Hellions: Badlands: Next Generation

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Hellions: Badlands: Next Generation Page 8

by Natalie Bennett


  “Ew, did you just call it a member? And charming charismatic appeal? I think you need to pull over. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

  I figured she was joking, but I searched for a lock button anyway. “I expected more of a reaction, that’s all. You know, freak out or some shit.”

  “I don’t ever freak out, and if I were going to, it wouldn’t be over something so…” she trailed off and began playing with an invisible thread on her jeans. “That isn’t that bad, Malik.”

  I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, letting her complete disregard for my actions wash over me. This was what I’d meant about her never judging me. I could talk openly and not be accused of being some psychotic, deranged fuck. I wasn’t evil. I was just wired differently.

  “Did you apologize?” she asked after a minute.

  “I wasn’t sorry.”

  “Oh, well…still wasn’t that bad.”

  “So, if Charon were to—”

  “If you go near my bird, it will be the last thing you ever do.”

  I grinned. I’d never hurt Charon. Z thought the whole crow thing was stupid, but he just hadn’t studied the bird long enough to know that it actually had intelligence.

  “And, FYI, I think keeping it contained is a mistake. You’re only making things worse by fighting who you are.”

  “You sound like Z.”

  “That just means two people have told you the truth. Why are you still holding back?”

  There weren’t enough words in the English language for me to answer that correctly while still conveying the real meaning behind it. “It’s complicated.”

  “Right.” She hmphed and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, giving them a decent lift. I glanced and then looked away before I rear-ended the SUV. “You should put your shirt back on.”

  “Um, you shouldn’t be a perv. It’s hot. Do what I do when you parade by in your boxers. Think of it as nothing more than a bikini top,” she said, gathering her hair atop her head.

  “Nyx, I’m beyond thinking of you in a bikini. Right now, I’m thinking about you bent over with my dick in your ass and my fingers in your pussy.”

  “That makes you delusional, Maliki.”

  Maliki, not Malik.

  “We both know you want my dick, Nyx. I’m just not giving it to you…yet.”

  From my peripheral, I watched her look towards the felt ceiling and release a heavy sigh.

  “Don’t you use it enough every time you find a Gwen replica?”

  I couldn’t say I was surprised she pieced that together; it wasn’t exactly a secret. Her tone could not be any less bitter about it, though and that shouldn’t have bothered me, but it did.

  “I already told you that isn’t what you think it is.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I knew she’d ask about this sooner than later, but I still wasn’t answering that. She’d accepted everything I had to say, but this wasn’t remotely the same.

  I mutilated women and sodomized them for my own sick gain. They resembled that bitch for a reason.

  “It doesn’t matter. They aren’t you.”

  “Thank you for pointing out the obvious,” she retorted.

  “That isn’t an insult, babygirl.”

  “You don’t need to make me feel better. It doesn’t matter, anyhow. It isn’t my business, and I shouldn’t have asked.”

  I started to laugh, not bothering trying to hold it back. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing I could have done, but holy shit. Her condescending tone was a direct contradiction to everything she was saying. I tried really fucking hard for her, and she hadn’t the slightest clue.

  She clamped her ample lips together and readjusted in the seat, tracing a finger over where I’d bitten.

  A distressed groan came from the backseat, filling the tense silence between us.

  I didn’t put forth the effort to make her feel better. My mind was already wandering elsewhere, the man now awake being one place. She and Z both telling me to just be myself the other.

  They had no fucking idea what that entailed. At seventeen, the darkness took root. At twenty-six, it had had years to do nothing but flourish as I ignored and caged it.

  I hadn’t wanted to be that man.

  I came to the same conclusion I had earlier. It was time she found out.

  Chapter Seven

  septem

  V3 turned out to be nothing more than an old nursing home the Venom had decided to claim.

  The large brownstone building sat adjacent to an abandoned church in the center of a rundown neighborhood that looked just as forgotten.

  A large chain-link fence had been erected around its entirety, curled barb wire affixed to the top of it. Three Venom stood guard near the only entry point onto the grounds.

  Tank top now back on, I leaned forward some and took in the few cars already in the parking lot. Off to the right of the main entry was a bonfire just getting started.

  It reminded me of one of the Savage club houses—just full of Venom.

  Hearing the sound of the vehicles, heads turned to see who had arrived. Zane swung the SUV into one of the empty parking spaces and Maliki pulled in right beside him and killed the ignition.

  "Let's go," he said, hopping out without so much as glancing my way.

  That was the most he'd said to me in a while.

  I expelled a noisy stream of frustration. We had gone from joking to this in a matter of ten minutes. I knew I should have stuck to what I had been telling myself to do, what I'd been doing since I'd met him—minding my business.

  I think I understood where the term 'crush' came from. The feeling could truly feel like it was crushing you.

  If anything, this only asserted the fact that he and I should remain strictly friends. I didn't know what other avenue we could travel down without our past turning one another into targets.

  I watched him through the window for a few seconds and then popped my door open, having to throw my shoulder into it to get the damn thing to cooperate.

  Before my booted feet could even hit the ground, Zane and Maliki were at the van's back door and a small group of Venom had made their way over to see what was going on. Each one looked eager to speak to them; it was like a mini fan-club.

  I moved back and stood beside Addy, who was watching the spectacle with an unreadable expression on her face.

  Knowing my cousin as well as I did, I knew she wasn't feeling this dynamic at all. Her eyes fell on a pair of pretty women who looked as if they could be twins, both standing aside with wide smiles on their faces.

  "You know, this is exactly how girls act around my brother? They're like cats in heat, pushing their pussies in his face."

  I let out a small laugh. I knew exactly what she was referring to. Luce loved the attention. I’d heard excessive details about my cousin's sex life, but recent rumors would suggest he'd found himself a steady thing for once. He, Cam, and Butcher...

  I swallowed thinking of the two brothers. I missed one more than I even thought was possible and fucking hated the other with everything I had in me.

  "They have definitely tapped those asses," Addy remarked, watching the twins—I was convinced that's what they were—interact with the large Venom men.

  Zane said something that made Twin A laugh a little too hard right before he climbed into the back of the van, leaving Maliki to carry on their inside conversation.

  "Oh, definitely, but you don't ever have to worry about Zane cheating on you."

  Her long, uncharacteristic pause had me glancing over in concern.

  "Ads?" I questioned quietly. If this man had cheated on her, his dick was about to find itself smashed into his stomach.

  "He hasn't," she quickly replied. "I just wouldn't hold my breath on that."

  She didn't get a chance to go into detail, and for that, I was partially grateful. This wasn't the time or place to have that kind of discussion.

  There was a soft gasp, and then the few people who had come
over stepped back with the same look of disgust written across their faces.

  The smell of intense body odor and vomit had me going forward, shouldering a man with a spiked mohawk out of my way.

  Zane handed off our panhandler, who was so drenched in sweat that his shoulder-length hair had begun to curl. A fedora hung around his neck by a thin string, and traces of pale puke lingered in a graying beard.

  Buddy wasn't a tall man. He had maybe an inch or two on Addy and I. He was missing one of his mentioned cowboy boots, and the wound on the corner of his head was still trickling blood.

  "Let's get him to the OR," Zane said, keeping hold of one arm.

  Maliki held the other, and they set off across the parking lot. "Search the van for anything useful, and then burn it," he ordered mohawk guy as they went by.

  Neither of us being told to come with them, I nudged Addie's arm and trailed after the small group on my own.

  "Do you think he really means an operating room?" she asked.

  "Uh, do nursing homes usually have things like that?"

  She responded with a shrug.

  We walked the expanse of the parking lot and entered the brick building through a side door, our group shrinking to the original six as Zane shooed everyone else off. The hall we stepped into was lined with various sized cardboard boxes, but otherwise, it was clean.

  "Get that door," Zane directed at Greer.

  He jogged ahead, doing as he was told. There was a miserable creak as old wood gave away under pressure, and I was staring into a room with cracked tile walls and a stone floor.

  Zane and Maliki continued right on through, practically dragging Buddy along since his legs suddenly didn't work. He'd remained quiet up to this point, but he began yelling as soon as he was pulled over the threshold.

  Once Addy and I got inside, Trix pulled the door closed, shutting the six of us inside with the now hysterical panhandler.

  A colorful variety of sonsofbitches, pussies, and a few creative death threats all came flying from his mouth, along with spittle and the revelation of a slightly southern accent.

  "You can't do this to me! You don't know who you're fucking with. Just like your daddy, dumb as hell!"

  Unsure if he was speaking to Maliki or Zane, Addy and I shared a quick look.

  "Let's get him in the chair," Zane suggested, ignoring the taunts completely.

  Using his boot, Maliki spun a chair that looked as if it belonged in a salon, and then helped slam Buddy down onto it.

  "Nyx, grab the chains from the corner," he demanded, throwing an elbow into Buddy's nose when his struggling intensified.

  A bellow erupted, echoing through the air, and blood jetted from upturned nostrils.

  "Hold still," Zane grumbled, barely batting an eyelid as some landed on his shoulder.

  "He broke my nose," Buddy complained.

  "Did he? Good, it looks great with your head wound."

  I glanced around the room in search of the chains Maliki was speaking of, spotting them in a box beneath an old tool bench covered in various items that gave light as to why they called this room the OR.

  Going over and peering down at them, I saw they were rusted and showed obvious signs of having been used many times before. I lifted them out, feeling grit against my palms.

  Without needing instruction, I worked around the two massive, beautiful men who held Buddy still so I could swaddle him.

  When I was all done, ensuring there was no way he could escape or break free, I took a small step back, catching Maliki's cold stare resting solely on me.

  What the hell? Was he really that pissed?

  The acceleration of my pulse and the feeling of him seeing right through me had my gaze flitting away after a few seconds. Brows furrowed as I noticed the way Zane was looking at Addy.

  She stood by the door, still, staring back at him with the same amount of animosity he was directing at her. I was confused, and not the only one. Trix and Greer stood by, looking as lost as I felt.

  "You remember what I told you?" Zane asked, speaking to Maliki but still staring at my cousin.

  "Yeah, I got it. Do whatever you need to do. I'll find you when it’s done," he replied.

  Zane stepped away from Buddy and slowly made his way towards the door where Addy was standing. She released a humorless laugh and placed her hands on her hips.

  "You seriously want to have this discussion right now?"

  "No time like the present."

  "And if I don't want to?" she tested.

  "Princess, I can get extremely creative." He grabbed her one of her hands and flung open the door, pulling her out into the hall and muttering, "It's time to sort your shit."

  I was still staring after their retreating forms when Maliki spoke up.

  "You two watch the door and make sure we're not interrupted."

  Before I could ask who he was talking to, Trix and Greer silently exited the room, pulling the door closed behind them. Now alone, I glanced down at the man who had been all but forgotten, sitting in a state of silence, blood dripping down over his lips from his crooked nose.

  "You're not going to talk, are you?"

  "He will, with a bit of persuasion," Maliki said, stalking over to the tool bench.

  I watched him with more than a little curiosity.

  He grabbed three things I couldn't see until he turned around. When he did, I made a quick mental note of all he had, which was what looked like a dental tool, an odd looking set of pliers, and a glass jar.

  "Hold his head," he demanded in a tone that was all about business.

  I stepped behind Buddy's chair and placed my hands on either side of his sweaty face, applying pressure to keep him still.

  "When someone is interrogated for answers, most people doing the interrogating start with little shit and work their way up. They like making the pain build, slowly instilling fear." He sat every tool but one on the floor near the chair. "I don't do slow."

  Positioning himself on the other side of Buddy, he placed what I'd confused as a dental instrument at the back of Buddy's ear. "We don't need to waste any time with sentimental bullshit, do we? You didn't seem that surprised to see me. You knew I was coming. Tell me what you did with the redhead and the man who was with her."

  Buddy swallowed audibly, keeping his stare aimed at the door.

  "If that's how you wanna play it." Maliki laughed dark and low. Brown eyes found mine and held. "You know what I love most about torture, babygirl?"

  I gave a small shake of my head.

  "When they squeal." He hit a button on the round object in his hand and brought the circular blade to the back of Buddy's ear, bending the upper flap forward.

  To Buddy's credit, he withheld screaming for almost a solid three seconds. When he began, it was enough for me to flinch as the agonized screech assaulted my eardrums.

  I had no choice but to thread my fingers through his sweaty curls and hold tight to keep him still, tensing my entire upper body. Blood spewed like a hydrant, hitting my fingers, arm, and my chin.

  I kept my mouth clamped shut so as not to risk some finding its way in there as well.

  You could hear the blade cutting through cartilage and spinning out flesh perfectly. Maliki stood and eased the tool, a pleased look on his face.

  "All right!" Buddy wailed.

  The saw immediately cut off, but there was no hope for the nearly severed ear. It seemed to be dangling by pieces of tissue that hadn't been cut yet, leaving extraneous amounts of blood to run down Buddy's face.

  "You've got ten seconds."

  "Wait, please. I need—"

  "Five."

  "Fuck you," Buddy rasped like a complete idiot. His jeer was followed by him spitting in Maliki's direction.

  A slow, carnal grin spread across Maliki's face. His hand shot out and tore the ear completely away with the snapping of something and a wet plop as he tossed it down.

  Buddy began screaming again, rocking his body in the rusted chains, in tur
n forcing me to have to use more strength to hold his ass upright.

  "We should do something about that," Maliki intoned with fake concern. He snatched the jar from the ground and popped the lid, bringing it to the place Buddy's ear used to be, and slowly tipping it forward.

  A clear liquid spilled out, splashing onto the bloodied wound. It took a millisecond for the smell of what it was to register as Buddy continued to thrash.

  Alcohol.

  Maliki stopped when the man began to twitch as if he were freezing, his head shaking non-stop.

  Replacing the bottle on the floor, he moved around to the front of the chair with the saw back in his hand.

  "Ten seconds," he repeated.

  Buddy continued to groan pitifully, still refusing to talk.

  Maliki nodded to himself and then looked to me. "You got em?"

  "I got em," I reassured.

  Taking the pliers, he flipped them around and slammed the solid handle into Buddy's mouth with such force I heard the crack just before two teeth flew out with a bloodied string of saliva detaching from them.

  "All you have to do is tell him what you did with his friends, and this can all be over," I soothed, taking on the role of the good guy.

  "I...saved them..." Buddy garbled, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He lifted his green eyes and stared up at me, a red tinged smile creeping across his face. "That lil sick bastard was there when I came upon the scene. He's kin of yours?"

  Samael. He had to be talking about Sam. It took everything in me not to demand an update on his condition.

  You never gave someone a weakness to use against you, no matter how badly you wanted to crumble.

  I began to wonder if he was getting minimal treatment, or the Stags were slowly letting him wither into nothing before he was found. Buddy having just confirmed that Ace and Darrian had at least been with them meant this could lead to nothing, or it could give us a desperately needed answer as to where they could be heading.

  I highly doubted the Stags remained in one place, at least not one someone could 'happen upon', as Buddy had put it. We had to find Ace and Darrian.

  I shoved Buddy's head back down with more force than necessary, deeming the man insane when he began to laugh

 

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