by LC Lehesaho
Copyright © 2020 LC Lehesaho
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456
Cover design by: Linda Lehesaho
Editing: My Brothers Editor
Interior formatting: Linda Lehesaho
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America
For everyone who struggles.
Don't fight alone.
PLAYLIST
Theme Song:
"Follow You" - Bring Me The Horizon
"Adrenalize" - In This Moment
"I'm Not an Angel" - Halestorm
"Flesh" - Simon Curtis
"Venom" - Icon For Hire
"Fake It" - Seether
"Antisocialist" - Asking Alexandria
"Dear Agony" - Breaking Benjamin
"Life Is Beautiful" - Sixx:A.M.
"I Won't Give In" - Asking Alexandria
"MoodSwings" - KAMAARA
"Talk To Me" - Apocalyptica, Lzzy Hale
"Downtown" - Allie X
"Under Your Scars" - Godsmack
"F U Till I F U" - Call Me Karizma, Cass
"The Last Fight" - Bullet For My Valentine
"Without Me" - Fame on Fire
And much more.
Listen to the playlist on SPOTIFY
AUTHORS NOTE
Hey you.
Thank you so much for buying ANTIDOTE. It means the world to me. Now, let me tell you: this is a love story. However, it's not unicorns and rainbows and romantic lovemaking in the moonlight. ANTIDOTE is a dark romance with scenes that might upset some readers. For that reason, I want you to prepare yourself for whatever may come.
Just remember, everything in this book happens for a reason. Trust me.
**ANTIDOTE is a dark romance containing adult content, including violence, sexual scenes, and language. Only suitable for those 18+.**
Contents
Copyright
Dedication
AUTHORS NOTE
Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
EPILOGUE
Afterword
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Prologue
Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, beautiful boy. From the second the boy was born, his mother knew he was a fighter. It was an initiation that the boy was born under the sign of Leo. She decided to name her son after his zodiac sign and hoped that he would grow up to be the natural-born leader the stars foretold he could be. Little did the mother know, the boy would indeed become a leader, just not the kind his mother had in mind.
The years passed by, and the boy grew up in a loving home with his mother, who loved her creative and sometimes a little bit dramatic boy more than anything else in the world.
After his first school day, the boy came home with a question.
Almost every other child in his school had a father, but he didn't, and he wanted to know why. The mother didn't want to lie to her son, but he was too young to hear about the cruel world they lived in, so she told him a story. It was about the powerful king who loved his kingdom more than anything, and as long as there was nothing that could jeopardize his position, everything was fine in the world. What she didn't tell her son was that the kingdom was actually a city called Shangri-la, and she had lived there until the day she realized she was expecting a child from this particular king. Though he wasn't an actual king, he was the ruler of Shangri-la's underworld. A crime boss who had the entire city under his thumb. The mother didn't want her son to grow up in an environment like that, and more so, she wanted her son far away from his cruel and monstrous father.
All she wanted was to give her son a loving home and a normal life.
But she should have known that there was no escape from a man like him. Sixteen. That is the number of years she managed to stay hidden with her son and raise him to be a good boy.
Then came the day when the boy was forced to watch as this vicious man—his father—violated his mother and slit her throat open, painting their living room floor with her blood. The beautiful, beautiful boy had never seen a real gun before, not until one was pointed at his head. He was supposed to die.
He didn't.
The boy lived, and he was still breathtakingly beautiful, but on the inside, he was everything but. Whether from the horrors he witnessed or the bullet in his brain, either way, the boy lost his light. There was only darkness inside him as he sought vengeance.
He decided to take everything from his father, tear his kingdom down, and claim Shangri-la as his own. The boy made a plan. He gathered every sick and twisted soul he could find around him and became the natural-born leader he was meant to be.
But the boy didn't want to be like his father, who hadn't understood the value of family. No. His mother had taught him that the children are the future, and family comes first. So, the boy had an idea, and he decided to plant the seeds for the future, literally.
On his eighteenth birthday, the boy bathed in his father's blood when he took over his city and became the new king of Shangri-la's underworld. At the same time, five different women gave birth to his progeny.
The Beasts of Prey.
1
Present
"Is he dead?"
I pivot my eyes to my sister and cock an eyebrow at her stupid ass question. "No, he's taking a beauty nap, and that's cranberry juice. Heard it smooths wrinkles."
Falcon shrugs while wiping her bloody knife on her leather pants. "I thought I saw him twitch."
"Watch." I crouch down and lift the guy's arm in the air, and then let it go, so it drops back to the floor like a dead weight—which it is. "Dead. No twitching."
"Everything clear in here?" Our brother Wolf makes an entrance from the club's back room, takes in the scene, and continues before we can answer. "Good. Let's go. We're finished. Guys are driving our car to the front."
"Alrighty then." I get up, placing my knife back in the holster on my thigh. Falcon does the same to hers, looking like an agent on a mission in her black leathery outfit.
Only with the difference that we're not exactly the good guys, but... maybe it depends on the point of view. It's hard to draw a line because there is always bad when there's good and vice versa: yin and yang.
Water can kill you, but it also keeps you alive.
Wolf waits until we go out first, always checking our backs like a big brother—which he is on
ly by six hours. We're all born on the same day, so it doesn't mean shit, though he certainly thinks it does. But as an amazing sister, I can let him live in that delusion if it makes him happy.
Our black Expedition is waiting right outside the front door of the Clean Kitty, the shitty strip club whose owner fucked-up his business for the last time. Dad is a patient man, kind of has to be considering he raised six teens at the same time, but when it comes to business, his tolerance for things getting messed up is zero, zip, nada, and his bullshit detector is one of a kind.
The back door opens, the rest of our brothers already inside. Falcon jumps in before me, taking the middle seat beside Puma, so I make my way to the third row and sit next to Tiger. His dark eyes are glued to me, and when the doors are shut, every one of us on board, he pulls his skull bandana down from his face. His lips draw into a tight line when he lifts his hand and removes my bandana too.
Which I know has a cut, just like on my cheek.
"What the fuck, Cobra?" he hisses at me, scoping the wound carefully. "You're better than this."
"It's not a big deal." I roll my eyes. "The floor was slippery. Probably some wanker had jerked off and left me a trap."
Tiger is not amused at all. Instead, he scowls at me.
"Is everyone else okay?" He keeps his eyes on me, while talking to the others.
"Never better, bro," Bear answers from the driver's seat and navigates us through Shangri-la.
"I got the money from the safe, but guess what else was in there?" Puma says, the tone of his voice revealing it's something good. Or at least he thinks it is.
I break my eye contact with Tiger, but he keeps staring at me. "Let me guess, weed?"
"We got ourselves a winner!" Puma slaps his palms together, way too happy about his treasure. "And that's me. I'm gonna smoke it. All. Of. It."
"Like Leo would let you," Tiger states, lifting his hand back to my cheek, and slides his thumb on my skin, just below the cut. The gentle touch blossoms goose bumps all over my skin.
Tiger is not our brother by blood, more like a foster-brother, because Dad took him to live with us five years ago. We were fifteen at the time, and so was he, and I'll never forget it. Tiger has never told us what happened to him, but I know he's been through a lot. The fact that he had to spend the first week in our medical room told me enough.
But he's a fighter, and he made it, whatever the shit was he had to go through. He became a beast, just like the rest of us. No matter whose blood he is, he is our family.
"You won't tell him about this." Puma turns around in his seat, and in a nanosecond, Tiger pulls his hand away, and his eyes turn to our brother. "I swear that if you do, I will beat the shit out of your Yamaha and make you watch. After that, it's your turn."
I burst into laughter. "Ouch! Better keep your mouth shut, Tiger, or you'll feel the mighty rage of a stoner. Threat is real."
The guys start to argue about who would beat who, like always, but I'm too tired to listen to their ping-pong match. I lean my head against Tiger's shoulder and close my eyes. He slides himself lower in the seat so that I get a better position, which is nice because he is way bigger than me. His leather jacket smells like blood and cigarettes, but it's the scent I'm familiar with, and actually, Tiger wears it well.
It doesn't take long until the car slows down, and I know we're home. I open my eyes just when the car rolls into our underground garage. Dad is sitting on the hood of his new red Mustang and fingers the wooden bracelet on his hand. That's the only move where I can tell he is nervous.
We are well trained, we're the fucking Beasts of Prey, and he is still impatient to get us back home from a job. Sometimes, it makes me angry to see him worry like he doesn't trust us to handle it, but then again, seeing that bracelet that belonged to his mother… I know we are the only thing he actually loves, or I think it's love—he is not eager to share his emotions.
But I want him to love us, me, and that's why I want to do my job well. I don't want to let him down.
"How did it go?" he asks immediately when Wolf jumps out of the front seat.
Wolf takes the black duffel bag with him, lifting it in the air. "The money and coke from their deal is in here. Simple job—only ten guys inside, the ones we expected to be there."
Dad slides the bracelet back to his wrist and stands up. His casual black T-shirt and sweatpants make him almost look like a regular guy. Which he isn't, not by a long shot. "Good. Wong was there, right? He is dead?"
Bear swings his baseball bat in the air like he's hitting a home run. "Yup, bitches can enjoy a meatloaf tomorrow."
After all of us have dragged ourselves out of the car, Dad observes us for a moment. I wish I’d had something in the car to wipe my bloody face, but it's too late now. I know what is coming.
What I deserve.
Dad's eyes narrow when he looks at me. "Cobra."
Fuck me sideways. "I slipped."
I can feel everyone's eyes on me. Bear and Puma smirking because they always have way too much fun when someone else has to go through this. Wolf is like a soldier, and he shares no opinions with his facial expressions, and Falcon's eyes tell me that she feels sorry for me because of my fucking stupid mistake. The only one who is not looking at me is Tiger. He stares strictly straight ahead, his hands deep in his pockets.
"Meet me at the gym in ten minutes," Dad sighs, disappointed.
My body is already sore from the fucking fall I took because of the slippery floor, and it didn't help that the now very dead guy was still very much alive and jumped on me. I can say it didn't feel nice.
Not nice at all.
So, I'm not eager to get my ass kicked the second time tonight.
Everyone leaves from the garage, Wolf with Dad, because they always have a more explicit conversation about the job, others to their own flats in our gigantic estate.
I place my hands on the Expedition's hood and let my head drop down, closing my eyes. Exhaustion settles over me like a heavy blanket, making me almost yawn. Why the fuck did I let myself slip? I could be going to the warm shower right now and sleep like a baby after it.
The disappointment on Dad's face is carved in my mind. Yet again.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the last drops of energy in my aching body, but instead, I open my eyes after smelling him.
"Just go, I'm gonna be fine," I say, turning my eyes to meet his.
Tiger's dark brown gaze tells me that he is not a happy camper. Not even the slightest. He turns around without a word, and I close my eyes again, letting my head drop. I could easily fall asleep right here, right now. That's how tired I am.
I'm fucking drained.
I'm on the edge of consciousness when I'm being flipped around. My back hits the car as Tiger's body presses flush against mine. My heart starts to beat way too fast for its own good from feeling him so close. He takes hold of my jaw and turns my head to the side, wiping the cut on my cheek with a wet cloth. It stings like a motherfucker, but I bite my tongue, not showing it.
"Does it hurt?" he asks, scanning my eyes for the truth.
"No," I lie with a straight face.
He takes a disinfectant bottle from the hood where he had probably put it while I was almost falling asleep. Then, without warning, he pours it on my open wound. The sting earlier is nothing compared to this. Burning pain reverberates from my cheek all the way to my fingers.
"Fuck!" I growl at him, jerking my head back, but his firm hold keeps me in place. "You could've warned me!"
Tiger takes another cloth and wipes my cheek again, but there is a glint of humor in his eyes. "Still feeling tired, worm?"
I scowl at him. "You enjoyed that, you piece of shit."
"I did," he admits and gives me a wicked smile. "I don't want you to go there when you're not sharp. You know it only lasts longer if you fuck up."
Tiger is right.
If I don't give my A game, Dad makes me stay there for hours. My record is five hours a couple of yea
rs ago, but Puma is the winner in this loser-game. One time he was there for ten hours because he had smoked before the job and had actually dropped his gun in the middle of a shootout. Dad made him stand on a pole and shoot the target while he threw tennis balls at him. It took ten hours for Puma to shoot ten bullseyes in a row without falling down from the pole or dropping his gun.
In his defense, he was high as fuck, but needless to say, Puma has never dropped a weapon after that.
I let out a heavy sigh. "I know. Thanks for the wake-up."
It actually worked. There is no better wake-up call than the pain. Tiger leans closer, and I feel his breathing next to my ear.
"Anything for you," he whispers, his thumb caressing my jaw.
My breath catches, and as always, I'm extremely tempted to touch him. For the last couple of years, it's been like this between us. There is this fucking spark, which I'm trying to ignore, and he keeps pushing my buttons at every turn when no one is around.
Dad would kill us both if there were something between us. Not to mention Wolf. He would turn green in a blink of an eye.
But I'm so fucking tempted.
The heat between us is volcano-level hot, but at the same time, I feel sick and twisted, even thinking about him like that.
"I should go," I say, but my voice fails me. My words comes out hoarse, revealing that I'm very much affected by him. But Tiger knows it already. Otherwise, he wouldn't keep doing this, pushing me, testing my boundaries.
I feel his lips under my ear, scorching my skin, and just by the power of my mind, I stay still. In moments like this, I never touch him. Never. I'm Switzerland every time he makes a move. I don't want to say no, but I don't want to say yes either.
Tiger inhales my scent, his broad shoulders rising under his leather jacket. Then I feel his lips under my ear, placing a tiny kiss there before pulling away from me.
That's all he ever does.
And just by that, he leaves me breathless.
I look at his strong jaw, which has a nice five o'clock shadow, and his high, masculine cheekbones, which I adore, and then I end up staring at his gorgeous eyes which are decorated with a wicked gleam.
