by Archer, Addy
The corner of his mouth twitches. He’s about to say something, but the ringing of his phone drags his attention away from me. He reaches for it and glances at the screen, and I swear a satisfied grin slides over his face as he answers the call.
“Brother, to what do I owe the honor,” Alaric says in a slick voice while his eyes twinkle with humor. “From what I hear, she’s not yours at all… No, Bruno. I said no.”
All humor has left his eyes, and anger makes his pupils grow black. He pins me with his gaze again, and his words register in my brain, making me groan. “He’s your brother? Really? For the love of God, how did my ass land into this pool of insanity? Why don’t you two idiots fuck off and leave me out of your pissing contest?”
I try to sit up, but my head is killing me.
“Lie back down,” Alaric snaps.
The headache prevents me from glaring at the idiot this time. “If you weren’t such an asshole, I might listen to you,” I grumble, making him chuckle.
Alaric’s amusement is cut short when he starts to growl into the phone again. “She’s my property. I don’t fucking care what you say or how long you’ve had your eye on her.” He gives Bruno a chance to rattle off some words, but it seems to be voiced to a deaf man’s ears when Alaric tells him, “I said she’s my property, fuckin’ deal with it.”
One click and it’s over. Well, the call is over since I have a feeling things just started for me with his eyes burning into mine.
“What?” I snap, unable to stay quiet when he keeps staring at me.
“How do you know my brother, and why is he obsessed with you? Other than the obvious part.”
I dig my fingers into my eyes in an effort to rub away some of the pain. “The obvious part? You mean besides me having tits and three holes up for grabs.”
Laughter comes from my left, and when I blink a few times, I see Hunt shaking his head.
“I like you.” A sigh rips from me, and I must have hit my head harder than I think I did to be blabbering out weird stuff. “Do you think we could be friends? The kind of friend who brings me some water and a painkiller? That would be awesome. I would like you even more. Especially if you can take me home afterward. I really need my bed and some comfort food.”
“Hunt, leave and get her some painkillers. Angie, eyes here and answer my damn question the normal way instead of making me angry,” Alaric snaps.
I deliberately slide my hand over my eyes and tilt my head toward him. “I really don’t want to, Alaric. I’ve had it with you. Lexi called to have me swing by for a cleanup. I’ve been awake all night from two jobs already. I run into you after you killed my stepsister—I’m pretty pissed about that little detail by the way, even if she couldn’t care less about me, but I’m not some heartless bitch. Then her snort buddy accuses me of not taking care of my family. Who, by the way, isn’t even my family, but that’s another technicality we’ll skip over. The point is, I still won’t let them down because, again, I’m not a heartless bitch. Hence the reason I’m pissed at you for killing my stepsister, even if I’ve never liked or cared for her. She always was a total bitch. I might have wished for her to die a few times this week, though. Hell, she even offered her pimp to take me on as payment, making me have no other choice but to call Bruno. And then there’s Hunt. He’s an asshole too. And here I was warming up to liking him, but then he locked me up in a dark room in the basement. And I don’t do the whole dark, spider, small-spaces thing. And then I wake up with a splitting headache. And you. You and your brother. Really? Your brother? Really? Did I mention my head hurts?”
“Lie down, Angie.” For the first time, I hear laughter in Alaric’s voice, and it makes my hand slide away from my eyes to glance at his features because this I have to see.
The crinkles around his eyes suddenly make him appealing, and, shit, he’s flashing me a dimple and a killer smile. Heat rushes through me—not something I need in this situation. I’d rather be back to anger and frustration instead of having him smile at me. Dammit, did I really say he wasn’t my type? I’m relieved when a knock on the door breaks our connection.
Hunt strolls into the room and hands Alaric a glass of water and a tiny bottle. “Everyone’s in church. What do you want to do?”
“For fuck’s sake, Hunt. Tell them I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Alaric is back to biting people’s heads off with his words and dismisses Hunt.
Alaric gives me two painkillers, and I pop them into my mouth to swallow them down with the water he offers me.
“Thank you,” I tell him and place the empty glass on the bedside table.
“Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?” Alaric rumbles.
“Now what?” I sigh, not bothering to answer him but demanding to know what’s next. This man is the most frustrating guy I’ve ever met. And here I thought Bruno was the worst one walking this screwed-up world.
C H A P T E R T H R E E
~ ALARIC ~
My brother wants her, and I can see his reasons why the more I’m in her presence. Back in Lexi’s office, I was blinded by fury of the whole situation with the missing money and Myk’s betrayal, but I have my eyes wide open now.
A female fixer. I’ve heard about her, but she’s always refused our requests. There are a few operating in this state we can call upon if we can’t handle our own shit, so her refusal wasn’t a big deal. If I knew who she was, I would have pushed her to work for us. But all of this is in the past.
Hell, maybe Bruno had something to do with keeping me at arm’s length, afraid I might notice and want her. None of it matters now—she’s mine. My brother challenged me, and he’s going to realize we’re not damn five-year-olds fighting over toys anymore. Once I’ve staked a claim, there’s no going back.
And when I glance at the feisty bundle of woman in front of me, I know this one is too good to pass up. I’m a president, trouble comes knocking on my door at a regular basis. I need a woman who can handle her own shit along with whatever comes my, or the club’s, way. She’s a fucking fixer. The queen fixer. A woman who deals with dead bodies on a regular basis; tougher than that doesn’t come around twice. So, I’m grabbing hold. She’s mine.
In my kind of world, things don’t revolve around love or sappy shit. Women and marriage—or in my case, taking an old lady—are a necessity. They involve having a status to maintain, a convenience, or forging alliances. Nothing more, nothing less. And to be honest? I never thought I’d take one.
She keeps her eyes pinned on me as if she’s trying to calculate my next move. I don’t like seeing her in Hunt’s bed, and since I just claimed her, she needs to be in my bed. Leaning forward, I quickly scoop her up, making her squeak as her hands automatically surround my neck.
“What are you doing?” she groans and buries her face against the side of my neck.
“Taking you to my room. My bed. You don’t belong here.” I stalk toward the main room of the clubhouse; my room is located right next to it.
I have the biggest room. It belonged to the former president—my uncle. He and my father never got along and when I was twelve I ran away for the eighth and final time. My uncle took me in, and I’ve never looked back. Well, that’s not exactly true since Bruno and I stayed in contact whenever we could. Bruno is four years older than me and helped me escape the house when I was twelve.
By then Bruno was already a made man. He killed his first guy at the age of fourteen when one of the bodyguards thought he could kill our father. He only managed to kill our mother and was about to take out our father when Bruno shot him with one of the guns my father had taped underneath the furniture in the hallway.
It was a fucked-up childhood that laid the path for the lives me and my brother have. Like I said, we keep in contact every now and then, but we certainly don’t swing by for visits or social calls. Bruno likes to keep it this way too because I still have a right to half of what our father had. Somehow, having the woman he’s been lusting after for quite some time in my arms make
s satisfaction roar through my veins. Hell, maybe it’s like stealing my brother’s new toy, but who fucking cares.
I unlock my room and head inside. “Are you able to stand on your own two feet?”
“If you’re asking how I’m doing, I’m happy to tell you I’m okay to go home now,” she grumbles, making the corner of my mouth twitch.
I let her slide down my body as I put her down. Then I wrap my fingers around her throat and tip her head up with my thumb underneath her chin. “You’re not going anywhere. Bruno is pissed, and this shit with Myk isn’t handled yet.”
“And don’t forget the pimp, you killed his money cow. Don’t repeat I called her a cow. I’m a nice person. I don’t call anyone a cow; it was a figure of speech. She might have been a bitch, but I never treated her like she treated me. I also think you’re an asshole for killing her. Did I mention that already?” Her shoulders sag, and she sits down on the bed.
“I have no regrets. The cunt stole from me knowing damn well what would happen if someone found out. It wasn’t a onetime thing either. We’re talking about at least three thousand dollars in total her grabby hands took over a few days’ time. I didn’t need to hear her excuses, I have her on tape and I don’t do second chances. Need I mention she received a fat loan that she never paid off? The money-hungry bitch had it coming. Those types never change, and they only think and care about themselves. Not to mention, there’s a brother involved, and I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you,” I snarl, unable to contain my anger about this fucked-up situation she landed cunt-first in.
“Like I said, you’re an asshole,” she snaps and crawls back on the bed to lean against the headboard. “So, I’m your prisoner? Any idea when you’ll be done with handling this thing with Myk? I have a company to run and a life to lead too, you know.”
“Me handling Myk isn’t your concern. You’re my property. You’re not leaving,” I casually tell her and then remember some of the words she threw at me. “What was that about the pimp you mentioned?”
She’s holding onto her head with one hand while pointing the other at me. “Oh no you don’t. Do not throw out I’m your property and then waltz over it by asking me about the pimp. You back the hell up and correct the fact. I’m nobody’s property but my own.”
I cross my arms over my chest and give her a fierce look. “Bruno challenged me. In his world, they have forced marriages, if you’re not aware of who he is and what he can do.”
“Says the guy who keeps me prisoner and stakes his claim. How is that any different?” she says calmly, and I know for damn sure she’s anything but, and it makes me slightly uneasy.
Surprising myself, I ignore her question and gently pull out the tie keeping her hair in a bun. When it’s all tumbled down, I slide it away to check her scalp. It’s annoying how she keeps moving away from me.
“Sit still, I need to see how hard you hit your head and where,” I snap.
Angie huffs and slides her finger into her hair, pointing out the spot while keeping her mouth shut. There’s a large bump and some blood; she did take a hard fall all right.
“You’re going to lie down, and we’ll talk things through when you’ve had some rest. I need to handle shit in church, and I like you better when you’re feeling well enough to yell at me without being in pain.”
She gives me a weird look, and I don’t even know why I give her an out. I’ve never cared about a bitch or how another person is feeling; when I want answers, I get them, even if I have to slice their damn throat. Without giving her another word, I spin on my heels and head for the door. As I’m about to leave, her voice stops me dead in my tracks.
“Discuss the pimp in church. I’ve dealt with him before because of Xandra. He’s the kind of pimp who arranges the high-class call girls. Xandra used him to obtain a closet filled with expensive clothes and to keep her nose white. She’s supposed to pay him back by giving him cash and take on clients when he needs her to. Like I said, money cow, that’s what she was to him. He’s going to be an issue for sure.”
I take in the chunk of information she freely offered me. “Appreciate the heads-up. Needless to say, this fucker is a threat to all of us, but one I will take care of. Did Lexi know about the pimp? Because I for sure as shit didn’t know Xandra was moonlighting. Well, obviously some whores do, and we don’t mind as long as it doesn’t interfere with the shit they do for us.”
Angie leans her head back on the pillow and closes her eyes. “Myk knew. He’s been her boyfriend for a while now. That’s also why she’s been dodging the pimp since Myk didn’t want her working for him anymore. Myk tried to talk to me a few times, and by talking I mean threaten me because I didn’t give my so-called loving sister the cash support she needed. With me having enough of it, in his opinion, I needed to learn how to share. He’s an ass, you know. I work hard for my money. I didn’t even get a proper education because my loving father only liked to spent money on himself. Everything is always about money and selfishness. I worked my ass off learning the ropes from my dad and took over his company when he passed away. I really hate people who think you owe them just because they think you have something they want or need.”
“Thanks for telling me. And Myk is no longer a problem. He was a prospect who was only very recently patched in. He will be dealt with accordingly. Now get some sleep, and I’ll be back later. If you wake up hungry, check out the cabinet in the corner. And there’s something to drink in the fridge. I’ll come check on you later. And don’t do anything foolish in the lines of walking away. I will find you. I just have to do it before Bruno or the pimp get their hands on you. Get my drift?”
She doesn’t open her eyes or say another word; she only raises her arm and flashes me a thumbs-up. I shake my head and chuckle as I stroll out the door and head for church. I slam the door shut behind me and glance around the full table as I take my seat.
“What Hunt is about to show you is the evidence to let you see Myk has betrayed all of us. I will give you the information to explain everything right after. Hunt?” I raise my chin, indicating for him to play the video on the large screen on the wall.
Satisfaction roars loud in my veins when all of my brothers express their disgust and anger. Hunt clicks away the evidence, and all eyes are back on me.
“The whore was tied up in a few things. I heard she had a pimp she owed money to, and since I’ve already sliced her throat, I can’t negotiate anything concerning her life. Not that it matters ’cause she fucked up with us, so there is nothing to negotiate. But you get what I’m sayin’; there’s a pimp we might have to deal with at some point. There’s also the matter of the whore’s stepsister, who happens to be the queen fixer. She walked in on the scene. Lexi called her in for a cleanup, but she showed up too damn early.”
I have to stop for a moment because of all the whistles and fucking admiration noises coming from around the table. “Fuckin’ horndogs, you just want to fuck the woman’s brains out because she deals with death, murder, and cleans up better than every single one of you. Now get your cocks back in your pants and listen. Bruno thinks he has a claim on her, but from what I’ve heard, he’s wanted her for a long time, and she’s always refused him. Either Lexi or someone else told Bruno that I have her, and he called me to demand I turn Angie over to him.”
Again my guys express their opinion, but this time it’s all anger. Everyone is aware Bruno is my brother, just as everyone knows damn well he’s a major player in the mafia world. We don’t have any bad blood between us, but we also don’t do the whole family visit shit.
And when it comes to pissing in someone’s territory, all of us are put on edge. Right now Bruno wants something we have. Bottom line, whatever it is, it’s not gonna happen. What’s ours, stays ours.
“I’ve claimed her. She’s mine, and I’ve let Bruno know. He wasn’t pleased, but he’s very much aware what will happen if he so much as points a finger at her.” Anger like nothing I’ve ever felt before surges through me
at the mere thought of Bruno getting his hands on Angie.
I’ve never claimed a woman, and I don’t have any feelings toward this chick other than wanting to get my cock wet, but something’s different when it comes to her. The way she acts, holds herself, her temperament, qualities, fucking looks and curves, it’s everything. I’ve always fought to protect what’s mine but this feels different. Fuck.
Instead of the roaring commotion of everyone trying to be heard, which is what usually occurs during this type of situation, the whole room falls eerie silent. Every fucker is staring at me as if I’ve just split the damn sea wide open.
Neo shakes his head as if to clear it. “You claimed her as in she’s now your old lady?”
I glare at the idiot who was clearly born yesterday. “Do. I. Fucking. Stutter?”
“No, Pres. Sorry, Pres,” Neo chokes out.
“Good, then it’s settled. We’ll celebrate later this week because we need to deal with the shit involving the pimp. I get the feeling this fuck thinks he can steal our merchandise. Moonlighting is one thing, but this pimp paints pretty pictures of mountains of cash, fancy clothes, and cocks with gold rings and shit. Motherfucker,” I thunder and flash out of my chair. “Pretty damn sure the pimp connected to the whore whose throat I sliced is none other than Romero. Everything smells like it’s connected to that asshole with his sleazy coke business on the side. Fuck. Hang on, I’ll check with the bitch in my bed.”
“Pres,” Hunt says, making my head swing his way. “Pretty sure you should start to call her old lady instead of bitch. You know, show her a little respect now that she’s yours.” The fucker is trying to keep his laughter in check.
“She’s mine. I can call her whatever the hell I want to call her. It’s you fuckers and everyone else who needs to be on their fucking toes when it comes to addressing and respecting my old lady,” I snarl, making sure to connect my gaze to everyone in the room to get my point across.
Silence settles in the room as I stalk out and head for Angie. When I enter and scan the bed, I notice how her wavy brown hair is spread out all over my pillow. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing is shallow.
