by J, Bella
Seconds after my scream sliced through the room, Granite came storming back in. “What the fuck?”
I looked up at him, feeling nothing but sadness and anger. For some unexplainable reason, I felt betrayed by him. It was my own fault; I knew that. In my head, I made him into something he wasn’t.
Granite saw the salad on the floor, closing the door behind him as he walked in. “Seems like you think you have a point to prove?”
I lifted myself off the floor but kept my back steady against the wall. “You might think I’m a weak, small, insignificant ballerina girl. But if you think for one second I plan on making this easy for you, you should think again.” I spat out the words like they were red-hot coals. But my words weren’t even cold when he came at me like a giant bulldozer.
I pushed myself off the wall trying to get away, but he was too fast. He grabbed my arm, pulled me back, and slammed me against the wall, pain shooting down my spine. I tried to take a breath, but his fingers wrapped around my throat, tightening.
Wild eyes glared at me, lips curled, and he was breathing rapidly. Granite was six-foot-five of pure muscle and malice, easily able to have crushed my five-foot-two body against the cold cement wall.
The door opened behind him. “What the fuck is going on here? I heard a scream.”
“Leave, Onyx,” Granite growled, but his brother didn’t leave. Granite glanced over his shoulder, nostrils flaring when he saw his brother still standing by the door. “I said leave.”
Onyx stood silent for a few seconds, blue eyes narrowed, scowling at his brother before he stepped out. But he didn’t close the door behind him, and I got the idea it was on purpose, to make it known we weren’t alone. Another kind gesture.
Granite turned back to me, his voice soft, yet fierce. “You better listen good, ballerina girl, ’cause I’m only saying this once.” His grip around my throat tightened. “Do not fuck with me. You have no motherfucking idea what I’m capable of.”
I grabbed at his hand around my neck, desperate for air. But there was no way I could make him let go.
Fingers dug deeper into the flesh beneath my jaw, pushing my face up toward his. “You’re not strong enough to fight me, ballerina girl. But keep on trying. I dare you.” He brought his face inches from mine. “By fighting me, you only make me want this so much more.” He let go, and I crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll, coughing and heaving.
Granite remained still, towering over me like a demon about to devour a soul. “Now, I’m going to get you something to eat. And you will fucking eat it, or this little shit-show that just went down will seem like foreplay. Got it?”
I was still trying to get air down into my lungs when he grabbed my hair and pulled my head back violently. “Do you fucking hear me?”
“Yes,” I cried. “Yes, I hear you.”
“Good.”
He let go and stepped back. As if my body knew he was out of reach, I managed to breathe in deep.
The floor creaked under his heavy footsteps as he left, leaving me gasping for air on the floor.
Exhausted and sore, I didn’t even try to get up. Every bone in my body felt like it had been cracked in half. My mind turned into a bottomless pit of nothing, and I was too tired to fight. Too tired to survive. So I gave up, just for a few seconds, so sleep could take me.
9
Granite
As soon as the door slammed shut behind me and I heard the click of the lock, I pulled my phone out and dialed. Ink answered on the second ring.
“Yo, boss man.”
“You have the kid-beater?”
“Yup.”
“He still breathing?”
“Yeah. Why?”
I rushed down the stairs. “I’m on my way.” I hung up and saw Onyx waiting for me at the exit from the bar.
“Want to tell me what the fuck that was?”
“No.” I brushed past him.
“Where are you going?”
“Same place you are.”
We walked out the front door of the bar.
“And where’s that?”
“The warehouse. We’re meeting up with Ink and Manic.”
Onyx didn’t question me further. Good thing too. The blood in my veins was fucking singing with the need to fuck shit up. Anger scratched against my chest, wanting out—like a contained demon ravenous for something to ruin.
Alyx pushed me. She pushed me too far, and I had to show her who was in control. I knew she had an inner strength everyone underestimated. I just couldn’t allow her to think she could use that strength against me. So I lost my shit—which ended up being a good thing because she needed to be afraid of me. If she wasn’t, this entire plan would get shot to shit. The success of our entire plan depended on her fear of us…of me.
Getting on my Harley Road King, I put on my lid and started the ignition. I needed to get the fuck away from this place. Away from her.
I wasn’t a guy for speed. It was about the cruise, the open road, the fresh air. The sound of the engine, feeling the power vibrate between your legs. God, it sounded like a porn movie. For me, it probably was. Nothing got my blood flowing like a good run. But this wasn’t a run. This wasn’t a goddamn cruise. I wanted to get rid of the rage that seared my veins, and it made me impatient.
I sped down the streets, cutting corners and hauling ass. Onyx wasn’t far behind and probably enjoyed it. He and his V-Rod loved the speed and the adrenaline.
It took us about twenty minutes to get to the warehouse where Ink and Manic had the kid-beater.
“Something going down here?” Onyx took off his lid and got off his bike.
“Something’s going down here, all right. I’m about to break some bone.” I didn’t check to make sure Onyx was following. My fists were already balled, nails biting into my palms.
Manic came walking out as we approached the entrance. “Everything okay, man?”
“Yup.” I brushed past him. “Just want in on the action.”
Manic and Onyx flanked me as we walked inside, and I spotted Ink in the distance, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his mouth. The kid-beater was tied to a chair next to him, and I could hear his sobs all the way over here. If it wasn’t for the pungent stench of dead rat and mold, I’d probably be smelling the fucker’s fear right about now.
“Typical.” I pulled my hair back. “The fucker can hurt kids but doesn’t have the balls to fight men his own size.”
“Um, Granite,” Manic started, “without stating the obvious, he ain’t exactly your size. None of us are. Except little bro, here. Ouch.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw Onyx slap Manic on the head. “I’m not little bro, you feel me?”
A smile tugged at the edges of my mouth, but my adrenaline was already spiked, and not even some simple club banter would be able to get my rage under control. The only thing that would help was blood.
I plucked my knife out of my pocket and started flipping it in my hand, staring at the bastard tied to the chair. “I hear you like beating up kids.”
“No. No, that’s not true.”
“Oh. It’s not?”
“No. I don’t know what that boy is telling you, but it’s lies.”
I leisurely started to circle around him. “And the bruises on his face? Those lying too?”
The kid-beater spat out some blood, a busted lip telling me Ink had already gotten in a punch or two. “That kid has been getting into all sorts of trouble. Drugs. Weed. It’s probably a dealer or someone.”
I shrugged, still circling him. “Could be. But the thing is,” I stopped in front of him, “I have eyes and ears all over this goddamn town. Nothing happens on these streets without me knowing, especially when it comes to drugs.” I crouched down so I was eye level with this ugly mofo. “I know for a fact the boy’s clean. The only dirty son of a bitch around here is you.”
He tugged at the rope tied around his wrists, the chair screeching across the cement floors. “I didn’t touch the lit
tle bastard.”
I tossed the knife in the air, caught it, then jabbed it into the side of his calf with every goddamn ounce of strength I had. The blade sliced straight through his flesh, ripping his calf wide open.
He screamed. I laughed. Ink howled like a fucking animal. Crazy son of a bitch.
The more the kid-beater screamed, tears mixing with snot, dripping off his face, the more it started to sound like music to my ears.
“I’m sorry,” he wailed, his head hanging down as spit dripped from his mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Oh, God,” he cried. Sobbed like the low-life piece of trash he was. “I’m fucking sorry. Please don’t do this. Please don’t do this.”
“Did you feel sorry for the boy when he begged you? When he asked you to stop?” Without blinking, I stabbed my knife through his foot, and I felt the blade crack through bone. The scream that came out of his mouth was deafening as it echoed through the empty warehouse.
Pain. It was there, in the sound of his scream. I felt it. Heard it. Fucking relished it.
“Granite.” Onyx stepped up next to me, leaning down. “Don’t lose your shit, man. He ain’t worth it.”
“But the boy is.”
“True. But we can’t afford the heat. If you kill this low-life, it will end up being another mess we need to clean up. And right now, that’s the last thing we need.”
His words were soft so no one else could hear, keeping the conversation close to our chests, because I was the president, and no one questioned the leader in front of others. But Onyx was my brother, and that put us on an entirely different level. We understood each other, respected each other, even if we didn’t always agree.
I glanced up, giving him a knowing look. My brother was right. We had to keep our heads down, stay out of trouble. At least for now.
Still crouched, I watched the blood pour from his leg, flesh and tissue hanging out. His leg was mutilated, the muscle destroyed. Yet I felt nothing. All I saw was that boy’s face, the bruises. Just like hers. Her face. Hurt and injured.
I held the bloody knife in my hand, rubbing my fingers up and down my beard. Just the sight of blood soothed me, calmed me, made me think clearer. Man, I was every fucking psychiatrist’s wet dream.
“Please, I won’t hurt him again. I promise.” The kid-beater cried some more, sweat dripping down the side of his face, his body shivering. “I swear to God, man. I won’t touch him again.”
I launched forward and grabbed his face in my hand, squeezing his cheeks. “You’re damn right, you won’t. You will take your scrawny, sorry, little ass and leave town. You will not come near the boy or his mom. And if I so much as catch a whiff of your stinking ass in the neighborhood, I will cut you from nose to navel. You feel me?”
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” He let out a few sobs. “Yes. I promise.”
I let go of his face with a jerk, then motioned for Ink to come closer. “Get him to a hospital. And you make fucking sure he leaves town.”
Ink nodded. “You got it.”
I didn’t stick around. The urge to kill this man was too strong, and if I didn’t leave now, his life would end with my blade stuck in his heart.
Onyx left with me, flanking me as we rode down the streets. This time I was in no hurry, my thoughts a complete mess. Going in, I had every detail planned out.
It was never supposed to be this way. But that was the cruel reality of our world. Nothing ever worked out the way it was supposed to.
Not for us.
Not for me.
10
Alyx
To wake up with a pounding headache was nothing new to me. I found it strange when I didn’t wake up with a skull feeling like it was on fire.
I moved and placed my hand on my forehead, cringing. Only when I touched my face, pain radiating from my temple to my nose, did I remember the bruise.
The smashed window.
Blurry faces.
Darkness.
Him.
Panic soared, and I shot up in bed.
“Easy, there, grasshopper.”
Frightened, I was about to leap out of bed when I spotted a woman sitting on a chair in the corner, reading a magazine.
“Who are you?” I clutched the sheets against my chest.
“My name’s Neon.” She turned a page, unfazed.
“Why…why are you here?”
She shrugged. “Granite told me to sit with you while they went on a run. Make sure you’re okay.” She glanced at me from under her lashes. “You okay?”
“Is that a trick question?” I glared at the blue-haired girl with piercings just about everywhere on her face.
She didn’t respond and just turned her attention back to the…Good Housekeeping Magazine?
“What?” she snapped. “They have good recipes in here.” She glared my way, and I realized I must have been frowning at her choice of reading material.
I cleared my throat. “Okay, I’m fine. You can leave now.”
“Nope.” She continued to browse the pages.
“What do you mean, nope?”
“Granite told me to sit here and make sure you’re okay. Now, in Granite’s terms, that means ‘do not move your ass until I tell you to.’ So, I’m not leaving until he gets back from his run.”
I snorted. “He doesn’t look like the jogging type.”
Neon dropped the magazine, finally turning her attention to me. “Say what?”
“You said he went for a run.”
“No.” She sat up straight. “I said he went on a run, as in on his bike. Ugh, never mind.” She waved me off, picked up the magazine, and leaned back in the chair again. “There’s some aspirin next to the bed for your headache.”
“How’d you know—”
“With a shiner like that, your head is probably on the verge of exploding. Just eat a cracker before you take the aspirin. Wouldn’t want you to burn a hole in your stomach.”
“I’ve been kidnapped, punched in the face, and almost strangled to death by a six-foot giant. Yet taking aspirin on an empty stomach is our main concern?”
Neon gave me a sideways glance. “Granite strangled you? Wow, he must really like you.”
“Excuse me?” I climbed out of bed, my body aching all over. “Granite almost strangling me is a sign that he likes me?”
She smiled, the piercing in her bottom lip glinting. “Yup.”
“Oh, my God,” I muttered, placing both hands on my head. “This is insane.”
“Listen.” Neon tossed the magazine to the ground then got up. She was tall, clearly worked out, and dressed in torn denim jeans and a black spaghetti strap shirt. “Granite only cares about his club and his guys. When it comes to women, all he feels and shows is indifference. Trust me, I’ve been here long enough to know his name ain’t Granite for nothing. That man’s heart is nothing but stone.”
Ignoring the cracker on a plate, I reached for the aspirin and swallowed it. “I really don’t need a class in getting to know my kidnapper better.”
Neon smirked, her dark eyes seeming amused. “Maybe if you know him better, you wouldn’t give him a reason to want to strangle you.”
“Maybe if you leave now, I wouldn’t feel the need to strangle you.”
The smile remained on her face, and she didn’t seem intimidated by me at all. Who could blame her? I was nothing but a tiny ballerina girl.
Neon placed her hands in her pockets. “I like you, little swan.”
My eyes widened. “Little who?”
“Isn’t that ballet thing called Swan Lagoon?”
My expression remained stoic. “Lake. Swan Lake.”
“Yes,” she snapped her fingers, “that’s it. Anyway. So, I don’t know if Granite gave you the grand tour, but there’s a mini-bathroom on the other side of those doors.” She pointed to right, and I was dumbfounded that I only noticed those now. Neon shrugged. “There’s no shower, though. Just a sink, and a toilet in case you need to pee. You know, you look like shit. You want to take a shower?
”
I flopped down on the bed. “First off, thank you. I feel like shit. And I don’t think a shower is going to make any difference.”
Neon scratched the side of her head that was shaved, her blue hair hanging down the other side. “Take a shower, would you?” She scrunched her pierced nose. “You kinda stink. That might be why Granite wanted to strangle you. He can’t handle the smell of mucky ballerinas.”
“Funny.” I glowered at her, and she winked while chewing her gum.
“Shower is across the hall. Be a good a girl, and I might give you something slutty to wear. But first…” She stepped up and started flashing a camera at my face.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“My job. Okay, all done. Now, let’s get that stink off you.”
I took a moment, trying to figure this woman out. She had the whole hardcore look pulled off like a pro. Tattoos decorated her inner arms. It looked like Hebrew text inked all the way from her wrists up to her armpits. When she turned around to open the door, I noticed another tattoo at the back of her neck. A skull. The American Street Kings patch.
“How long have you been part of the gang?”
Neon turned and narrowed her eyes at me. “A club. Not a gang. Go around calling it a gang, and you’ll get that tiny ballerina-ass of yours hurt.”
I bit my tongue. The feisty blue-haired bad-girl had me all confused since I didn’t really get the whole dangerous vibe from her…until now.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “Club. How long have you been part of the club?”
“None of your goddamn business.” She walked out, leaving me standing there. The door was wide open, and for a fleeting moment I wondered if this was the kind of place you could just walk out of. Would there be armed bad guys waiting around every corner? Or would it be easy and simple for me to escape? Somehow, I doubted it would be the latter.
I gnawed on my thumb nail, not knowing what to do when Neon’s face popped up at the side of the door. “You coming or what?”
“Yeah.” No matter how scared I was, my need to scrub the filth off me was stronger. The promise of taking a shower was just too damn good for my fear to keep me from following her.
