Page 54 of The Demons We Hide

“Not entirely,” Vikson agrees. “I’ve never been one for blood family. I left Silverwood a long time ago and made my own family and I don’t need another one.”

“Then why the fuck?—”

Vikson holds up his hand, stopping my tirade. I don’t know how he manages to make such a simple action so unyielding, but he does. It sets my teeth on edge. I risk a glance back to the club. The line hasn’t gone down any at all as more people have arrived and now wait outside to be let in. Beyond those doors and walls are two of the most important people in my life—three, including Juliet.

“I should clarify,” he states. “It’s not just Alexio Medicci that I’m interested in.” Gray eyes the same shade as Lex’s meet mine. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. “I’m also interested in the Scorpion.”

My blood turns to ice in my veins. “Excuse me?”

Not by the flicker of an eyelash or a twitch in his facial muscles does Vikson betray his thoughts. He merely holds my stare and repeats his words. “I’m interested in forming a connection with both my nephew and the Scorpion.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

One corner of the older man’s lips quirks up. “You do,” he says, his tone not the least bit annoyed by my lie. “But I understand why you still wish to protect him. Believe it or not, I’ve met quite a few boys like the three of you. The bonds that form in hardship are hard to break.”

An old saying comes to mind at his words.The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.I can almost see it in his eyes that he knows that too. Whatever this man wants from Lex, it’s clear he’s serious about his intentions.

“I applaud your loyalty, Nolan Pierce,” Vikson says. “But there will come a time when you realize your loyalty cannot fix every problem. The Scorpion would be highly valued at Eastpoint and so would you.” He says nothing of Juliet or Gio, but I don’t comment. I keep silent, well aware that whatever time limit he’s set on this meeting is drawing to a close.

“I won’t push for more tonight, but it’s my hope that by approaching you here you might be able to ease Alexio’s…” Vikson drifts off for a moment, his expression creasing with contemplation, and it isn’t until he continues that I realize he’d been looking for the right phrasing. “Resistance to having me in his life.”

“Lex isn’t a commodity,” I tell him. “I can’t convince him of something if he doesn’t want to do it.”

Vikson’s smile is polite and sharp. The shadows peeking out from his sleeves and collar hide tattoos that only make me think of Lex all the more. Now that I know what this man is to him, I can see the resemblance beyond the eyes. They’re both massive beasts in size. Sharp, angular features. It might be easier to believe that they’re father and son rather than distant, half uncle and nephew.

Instead of responding to my statement, Vikson reaches into his pocket and withdraws a flat black card. His legs eat up the distance between us and my muscles go on lockdown a moment before he reaches me. He holds the card out.

“I’m sure you’ll try to get into Eastpoint under your own power, and I can’t say that it won’t happen,” he says. “But if you or Lex ever need a hand, Nolan, you should call me.”

I stare down at the card being held out to me. It’s not the first one. I take it anyway. If this man really is Lex’s uncle, then Lex needs to be the one to decide what to do with him or if we do anything about him to begin with.

“Don’t lose this one,” he says, smirking. As soon as the card is in my hand, he steps back and turns away. He gets about ten feet away and I’m still rooted to the ground, watching him go for a second time when he pauses and glances back at me over his shoulder.

“Oh, and one more thing—you can let Darrio Vargas know that the Eastpoint Heirs are on to his game.” My fingers tighten on the card in my hand.Darrio? This man knows about him too?

Not good. So not fucking good. Eastpoint is a different ballgame from Silverwood. I knew Darrio was an idiot for trying to come up here. I’d just hoped, though, that things would fall through over the next few months or that maybe this was all just the start of something that would be passed on when the guys and I left Silverwood. But if Vikson knows, and he knows about the Eastpoint Heirs—if he has connections to them as I suspect he does—then I was dumb as fuck for thinking I could play Darrio’s errand boy and disappear when I wanted.

“Unless…” Vikson hums again and stares at me thoughtfully. “If you wanted to get rid of Darrio, maybe you won’t tell him.” He doesn’t sound particularly mad about that possibility, but I’m coming to understand that this man keeps his emotions on lock. He doesn’t rage or beg or complain. He merely states facts and information and walks away to let the other party do what they will.

What does he think I’ll do?

“Have a good night, Nolan,” Vikson calls. “Tell Lex I said hello.”

As I stuff his damn card into my pocket, I contemplate his words as he disappears into the night. We have too much on our plate right now. With Lex looking into the Donovan case as well as the guys who jumped Gio, I’m not sure adding a newfound family member will do anything or send him into a spiral, and the last time he spiraled … I shudder to remember—it’d been three years ago and still, he never fucking told us what had set him off. It had taken the better part of two weeks to get him back onto a better sleep schedule and showing up to classes again.

The card burns a hole in my pocket as I turn and stride towardsHellfire. I can’t keep this information from him forever, but at least for now, I can hold on to it until he’s in a better place. It’s my responsibility, after all. I made the decision to kill, and they followed me into the dark and depraved violence that now taints our souls.

Their sins are mine and their pain is mine.

22

JULIET

Hellfireturns into something else when it’s full of people. The rock music blaring through the invisible speakers keeps the bodies packed on the dance floor grinding and moving. The red glow of lights in the otherwise darkened interior of the building gives off a sort of tempestuous feel. They pulse with the beat of the music, almost as if they’re flames licking across the ceiling and up the walls.

My eyes latch on to the glittering dresses of the girls and the way their forms move in time with the music, free and unencumbered by stress or anxiety or pesky inhibitions. I envy them.

“What are you thinking?” Gio’s words are a caress against my ear.

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