by Jessica Ames
Nox glares at me. It’s a look that would intimidate even the evillest of people, but I grew up in this world, around these men. I knew Nox from when we were little kids. I’m not scared of him.
Although Nox the boy is different from Nox the man.
Worlds apart.
He’s always been a big lad, even when we were teens he was pushing six foot. Now, he’s maybe six-three, around thirty-years-old, if memory serves, and has a thin layer of hair covering his head. His eyes, which used to be filled with life, are too shrewd, too hard. He looks like a man who has seen shit and done shit he can never take back. Probably, that’s true. I have no illusions that these men are Boy Scouts.
This Nox looks like he’s contemplating putting a bullet in my brain. I feel a tendril of fear work up my spine, even as I keep my external expression neutral.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve coming here, Sash.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, “that’s me. A ballsy bitch. Are you getting Rav or not?”
“Not.”
My eyes slide to the prospect who is finishing up the call. He shifts on his feet and then says a little hesitantly, “Uh, Rav’s on his way. Sin’s coming too.”
Ice fills my veins and my guard must momentarily lower, because Nox’s lip twitches as he raises his brow. He thinks it’s Rav that caused my reaction, but it’s not him who makes my skin crawl. It’s Sin.
My lips curl up into a snarl like I’m a trapped animal ready to come out and fight. I have to push my disgust down. I’m not here to put old demons to rest. I’m here for my daughter.
Nox glares at me, his big arms folding over his chest, rucking his kutte up. Unlike the prospect’s, his is filled with patches—including the one percent badge and the number thirteen.
I resist the urge to fidget as we wait. I don’t want to show any sign I’m on edge, even though I am. It’s hard to keep still with Nox’s eyes boring into my head like sharpened daggers, though.
“Why’d you come back, Sash?” he asks finally. “You have to know Rav’s going to lose his mind seeing you again.”
I open my mouth to answer, but the sound of a door slamming has my eyes straying past Nox and the prospect towards the main clubhouse. For the first time in three years, I get a look at the man who was once my everything.
My heart clenches painfully.
His dark hair is pulled into a tie at the nape of his neck and the thick beard covering his chin is a new addition. He usually wore a little scruff when we were together. This makes him seem harder. The leather kutte he’s wearing is as beat up as my jacket and moulded to his body like a second skin, covered in patches. Beneath it he has on a dark shirt and a pair of jeans that should be illegal, they’re so well fitted. My gaze trails up his sharp jaw, and come to rest on his eyes, which are colder than a glacier.
I swallow hard and my heart starts to pound.
Then I see Sin and my world stops. He looks like his brother, sans the beard and his eyes are not hard, but amused, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I hate him for that more than anything. I hate that he ruined my life and thinks this is a big joke.
Lily-May’s face dances in my consciousness, and it gives me the strength to face the man who may or may not be her father. It gives me the strength to stand in front of a man I’ve killed a thousand times in my dreams.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Sasha?” Tyler’s angry voice demands.
No, not Tyler, but Ravage. Tyler would never have spoken to me like that.
I have to remember the two men are not the same, and I am responsible for the man in front of me. I created Ravage when I left. I cemented the man he is now.
“I need to talk. Alone.” I eye Nox and Sin. I notice the prospect has made himself scarce. It’s probably a good idea. Prospects tend to be on the firing line when rage is going around.
And this is going to get messy.
“Why don’t you drag your arse off my property before I do something we’ll both regret.”
He’s barely keeping a rein on his temper, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, as if it’s taking all his power to control his emotions. I don’t blame his anger, even if I’m not sure it’s justified. I had my reasons for leaving and if I had to do it again, I’d still leave because I needed that space between me, Rav and Sin.
I close my eyes, letting the first emotion slip through. When I reopen them, I see Sin is grinning at me.
I glance between the two men. Then I drop the bombshell.
“One of you has a daughter, and I need your help.”
Sin’s no longer grinning.
Rav’s expression is darker than a full-blown storm.
The next thing I know, I’m looking down the barrel of a gun. Fear dances across my skin, but I hold firm, my chin high, as I meet Rav’s gaze unflinchingly.
“My daughter,” I emphasise the ‘my’, letting them know who she belongs to, that she is nothing to them, “has leukaemia. She’s dying. She needs a bone marrow transplant like yesterday. There’s an appointment booked tomorrow at ten-thirty a.m. at Kessington General Hospital in the children’s department to see if one of you is a match.” I pull a photograph from my wallet of her three months ago and hold it against the fence. She’s smiling, her red toddler cheeks blown out as she laughs at something. Her blonde hair makes her look angelic. She’s also in a hospital bed, which is where she’s spent most of the last few months.
Rav’s arm shakes, his finger sliding on the trigger. I don’t cower, instead, I take a step back. I know he won’t shoot me. At least the old Rav wouldn’t have.
“Be there, or I’ll come back.” I let the threat hang in the air between the men, my expression telling them how serious I am.
“Move again and I’ll fucking shoot,” Rav warns, but I ignore him.
I hope that I still know these men, that no matter how much blood covers their hands, how many people they’ve made disappear, I hope they still hold to the fact they don’t hurt women—not without a solid reason.
“Deceitful whore,” Rav hisses at me. I don’t even flinch at his words, although they have the power to wound like bullets to the chest. Three years ago they might have.
I let my eyes slide to Sin, letting my disgust for the man pour out of me. I don’t miss Nox watching us, his shrewd eyes intent. Let him think what he wants. I don’t care.
When I bring my gaze back to Rav, I repeat, “Be there tomorrow.”
“We’re not done here,” he growls at me. “Fucking explain this.”
“You come tomorrow and I’ll tell you everything.” I glare at Sin then I stare at Rav a beat. Then I do what I did three years ago. I turn my back on him and on the club.
4
Ravage
I feel my knuckles crack as the next punch lands. Sin doesn’t beg me to stop, doesn’t say a word, but takes his beating like a good little cunt. The rage flaring through me is so electric, so heavy, I can’t stop it. I want to kill him—brother or not—for taking something that belonged to me, for throwing loyalty aside and shitting all over it.
After Sasha left the compound, I dragged him into the clubhouse and let my temper unleash. He’s lucky I didn’t put a bullet straight between his eyes, although I still might.
I’ve gathered an audience, no doubt all wondering why their president has gone off the deep end and is beating the shit out of his kid brother, but no one moves to intervene, no one asks why I’m suddenly giving Sin a beat down either.
This is the way of our world. My word is law and if I’m hitting him there’s a good reason.
And this time there’s a very good reason.
He and Sasha betrayed me and Sin is getting the brunt of the anger raging through me like a speeding train. The urge to pull the trigger on her had been a battle too, but no matter how much she’s destroyed me, I can’t play tit-for-tat with her.
I level a punch at my brother’s stomach, relishing the grunt he makes in response. Sin is already a bloodied m
ess—so am I. He strikes my jaw with enough force to snap my head back and I retaliate with another uppercut to the gut that nearly takes him off his feet.
No one touches what’s mine.
He doesn’t get a pass because he’s family.
“She ain’t exactly innocent in this, Rav,” he says through mushy lips. “I was drunk off my head. I didn’t know what day of the week it was.”
The idea of Sasha taking advantage of him is laughable, but doubt clings at his words—doubt I don’t want to feel. Did she do this? Who do I believe? Her or him?
“You still fell into bed with her,” I growl, circling him, my fists ready. Blood is spurting down the side of my face, soaking the collar of my kutte.
“It was dark. How the fuck was I meant to know! I wish it never fucking happened. I wish I could undo it. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d take her side.”
I laugh at his words even as uncertainty attacks my mind. My fist flashes out, catching him in the side of the head as his reflexes slow.
He absorbs the blow, weaving on his feet a little. “These bitches just want one thing. They’re all kutte sluts. She thought she could have the Prez and the VP eating out of her fucking palm.”
His words eviscerate me. It doesn’t match with the Sasha I know, but the evidence doesn’t suggest it could be otherwise.
Whether he seduced her or she took advantage of him, the outcome was still the same. Them fucking, her having a kid she can’t put a father to.
I seize the lapels of Sin’s kutte, dragging him closer. He hangs in my grip like a rag doll, his eyes rolling in his head. Without remorse, I pull my fist back and slam it into his face again. My brother grins dazedly at me through bloodied teeth and I want to wipe that fucking smirk off his face. I want to wrap my fingers around his scrawny neck for daring to touch her—even though I shouldn’t care.
It’s been three years since Sasha left me.
Three years and yet that bitch can still elicit a nuclear level of anger from me.
I hate her for that. I don’t want to feel anything for her, but knowing she fucked my brother before she left makes my temper boil over. Knowing she might have a kid with him makes me positively homicidal.
She’s the only woman I’ve ever let in and her betrayal cuts like a thousand knives.
Sin’s hardly moving now, and as I go in for another shot, Nox wraps an arm around my throat and pulls me back. I fight him. Hell, I’ll fight any fucker in this room right now, but his grip on my neck is like a vice. It’s enough to stop me in my tracks.
“He’s had enough, Prez,” he hisses in my ear.
“He’s had enough when I say he’s had enough,” I growl, bucking against the hold on me.
Nox is a big guy, but I’m bigger. Right now, though, he has a solid hold, and he’s not letting go, and my reflexes are slowed by the return beating I took from Sin.
“You’re going to kill him.”
He says that like it’s not my intention.
“I don’t care.”
I try to pull away from him, but Daimon gets the other side of me, and together both men manage to drag me back. Frustration roars through me and I pull out of their grasps, shoving the guy who happens to be nearest—Daimon—as my breath saws out of me.
I glance at the lump of meat on the floor behind them, my lips curled into a snarl.
Sin lies still, staring up at the ceiling with glassy eyes, blood covering every inch of his face. His breath sounds wet when he inhales and I’m sure I’ve done internal damage somewhere. I don’t give a fuck about that.
“You touched something that belongs to me!” I roar in his direction.
Day and Nox stand between me and him, stopping me from inflicting any more damage.
I should care that I’m doing this with an audience, but it might do the peanut gallery a favour to see what happens if you cross me.
“Was drunk… she came… on to me.” He repeats his shit story and coughs, a rasping wet sound as blood bubbles on his lips.
Pain slices through my chest.
“I don’t fucking believe you.”
“She left… ‘cause I… I threatened… to tell you.”
His words gore me. Deceitful bastards, the pair of them.
“Had no idea… it was her until after. It was dark, man… couldn’t see.”
I want to believe that. I want to believe it so badly. I don’t want to think my own brother could betray me like this, but I smell the shit coming off his words. Everything he says is a lie and doubts are creeping in over what else the fucker has lied to me about over the years.
“Get him out of my fucking sight,” I growl to no one in particular.
Whizz, our resident doctor, moves towards him, crouching at his side. I shake my head.
“No fucking pain meds, Whizz. I want that fucker to feel every bruise I gave him.” I lean around Daimon as Titch helps Whizz to pull Sin up. “We ain’t done here, little brother. Not even close.”
I storm from the room, passing Fury who is leaning against the wall, watching with a blank look on his face.
As I step into the corridor, I put my fist through the dry wall before I tear into my office like a man possessed. I clear the desk with one sweeping motion of my arm, the papers going flying. It doesn’t make me feel better.
Sinking into my desk chair, I reach for the Scotch I keep in my drawer, ignoring my torn-up knuckles. I don’t bother with a glass, I drink straight from the bottle, relishing the burn as it hits my throat.
My blood is boiling as I think about her with Sin, as I think about him taking something he shouldn’t have touched.
My head feels like it might explode.
She fucked my brother—a brother who has stood at my side as my vice president since she left.
A brother I all but raised and took care of better than myself over the years.
I don’t know who I’m more pissed at—her or him.
My thoughts calm slightly when I think about the little kid in the photograph Sasha showed me. She could be my daughter. She looks like me, but she looks like Sin, too.
If this kid is mine, I’m furious that Sasha hid her from me, that she stopped me from knowing my daughter.
If she’s not mine…
I tear a hand through my hair which has come loose from the tie and slug back another swig of Scotch.
I hear a noise and I don’t need to look up to know who is in my doorway. I should have expected it, because Nox is as predictable as the day is long.
“You level, brother?” he asks.
It’s a redundant question because he can clearly see I’m not even close to level. I’m covered in blood, mostly Sin’s, though some of it is my own. My little brother did land some good punches.
“Shut the fucking door on your way out,” I order, using the bottle to gesture in that direction. I’m not in the mood for a chit-chat right now.
He doesn’t do as I demand, but instead steps further into the room. Bolshy bastard. He’s the only man in this club that would get away with defying a direct order and only because I’ve known Nox most of my life. He knows me better than anyone, even my own brother—especially now.
“Sin’s a dirty bastard.”
I snort as a thousand betrayals stab at my gut. He’s not telling me something I don’t know.
“If you want me to keep wrecking shit, keep talking about that fucker.”
He runs a hand over his jaw, which is covered in a layer of scruff and I can see the cogs in his head working on overdrive. Nox has always been a thinker. I should have made him my VP, not Sin, but I chose loyalty to family over loyalty to a man who actually deserved it.
“Something about this situation stinks, Rav.”
My gaze snaps to his face and I let my disbelief play over my face. “No shit.”
Nox leans against the wall, his head slightly bowed and I can see he’s trying to figure this out in his brain. He’s a problem solver and right now he sees this as a pro
blem, instead of seeing it for what it really is—my little brother’s inability to keep his dick in his jeans.
“Sash… she didn’t seem exactly happy about seeing your brother. There’s no love lost there.”
I grit my teeth and lean back in my seat, my rage flaring again that he’d take her side in this.
“Jesus fucking Christ, are you eating that bitch’s pussy too? Because it sure as fuck sounds like you’re sticking up for a whore here.”
The words are said with anger and designed to wound, designed to get some of my own rage out.
I’m not surprised when he riles at this. “Fuck you, Rav. I would never go there with your woman and you know that.”
He wouldn’t and I should feel bad for suggesting it, but all I feel right now is fury that not even the Scotch is dulling.
“I know Sin’s lying,” I tell him, my voice a little less harsh. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”
His story sounds like something a fucking child would tell and I know my brother. I know all his ticks and tells. He’s lying his arse off. He knew exactly what he was doing and who with. He just didn’t give a fuck.
“Sasha… she didn’t seem right,” Nox presses.
“She fucked him and might have a kid with him. Ain’t nothing right here.”
The words are like ash in my mouth and saying them makes my stomach churn with bile. Rage starts to build again in my gut.
“She seemed… disgusted by him. Does that sound like someone who seduced a man in the dark and took advantage while he was drunk?”
It doesn’t, but I never thought Sash was a devious, deceitful bitch either. Now, I know different.
“I don’t know what the fuck to believe. I don’t even care. They both fucked me over.”
Nox weighs me with his stare.
“I’ve never known Sash to be anything but loyal. This ain’t like her.”
I snort at this suggestion even as doubts assail me. Nox doesn’t have a horse in this race. He has no reason to side with either of them.
I’m still seething, so I can’t stop my angry retort. “She’s no better than a club bunny.”
