Page 45 of Clover

Phoenix

“W

hat the hell did you do?” My most annoying sibling bursts into my home way too fucking early. Stomping through my living room, demanding I tell him something when I don’t even know what the hell he’s yelling about. Okay, that’s a lie. I know what he’s yelling about because last night Beau and I gave Braxton a beating he won’t soon forget.

“You’re going to have to be more specific. I do a lot of shit.” I don’t even look at Griffon as I continue eating my breakfast sandwich of eggs, bacon, and cheese on whole-wheat toast. Naturally, I have two sandwiches on my plate. Growing boy’s gotta eat. Clover sits next to me, eating a similar sandwich but with avocado sans cheese. While Beau has doubled up on the bacon. None of us stand to great Griff as he makes his way into my home, stopping only when he enters the dining area and rounds so I can see him. He actually looks pissed.Weird.

“You know what specifically.”

“Do I, though? So, I guess now we’re having meetings in my dining room at breakfast in our pajamas? Can’t this wait till later? Like, after we get dressed?” I ask between bites of my sandwich, not really giving him my full attention. That is still focused on Clover’s tits and perky nipples that are poking out through the sleep shirt she’s still wearing.

“It’s eleven in the morning. Most people are dressed by now, Nix.” He booms at me. Standing there glowering like it’s unusual for us to be up so late.

“Well, some of us work nights.”

“You mean like last night? When you snatched Braxton and tortured him for hours before dumping him in a parking lot naked and zip tied.”

“Ha, ha, ha, yeah, that was pretty funny. I had a still printed from the security camera to keep as a souvenir of him unconscious propped against his stupid Ferrari.” When I look up, I find Griff almost sneering—almost. He’s trying really hard, but he hasn’t had much practice, so it’s a little like he ate something bad that’s not agreeing with him. Beau tries to stifle a laugh with his breakfast sandwich, and Clover is sitting there slack-jawed watching me.Shit.I hadn’t told her about the Braxton thing yet. Fuck she’s gonna be pissed at me for not telling her.

“You did what?” Her big sapphire eyes blink wide at me, waiting for an explanation. I highly doubt she’ll be opposed to what I did, considering she supported the idea of killing him, but she doesn’t know the specifics of what I did. I told her last night I wasn’t a good guy, and I meant that. I feel no remorse for what I did to that worthless slimeball. He got what was coming to him, and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

“We only roughed him up a little and then took him back to his car. Don’t worry, he’s still alive.” I growl to Griff. “I obeyed your rules. No killing. All the rest isfair game.Right?”I spit his words from the other day right back at him.

“You fucked him up the ass with a cattle prod.” I watch Clover to see her reaction. She doesn’t do much, just purses her lips together and looks down at her plate. Picking at the toast. “You may not have killed him, but you’re stirring shit up, Nix. I don’t appreciate having to deal with this shit first thing on a Monday morning.”

Straightening, Griff rights his tie that got a millimeter out of place and brushes his hands down his vest straightening out nonexistent wrinkles. Like he’s better than us as if he doesn’t have just as many scars and tattoos hidden under that five-thousand-dollar suit. If it weren’t for our appearance and mutual penchant for violence, I would question if we were really related.

“Your actions have consequences Nix.”

“Yeah, like Braxton has to sit on an inflatable donut for the next six months.” Griff is not amused. Even though Beau and I both chortle under our breath. Even Clover cracks a grin. I knew my strong warrior woman would appreciate what I did for her.

“No. like we’re going to have to start watching our backs now.” Griff bites out.

“We’ve always had to watch our backs. That’s not new.” Beau chimes in from across the table, giving Griff aso whatkind of look.

“Except now we have to do it within the Syndicate from the Shaw’s.”

“They’ve always hated us and vice versa. This is nothing new and just one more thing on the ever-growing pile of why we hate each other.” Griff turns his glare on Beau, now trying to manifest the superpower to fry him with laser eyes, from what I can tell. Or he’s constipated and needs to take a shit. It could be whatever disagreed with his stomach to twist his face up before.

“Chill the fuck out, Griff. He’s alive. No accords have been broken. If the council won’t do a fucking thing about what he did to Clover, then they’re not going to do a fucking thing about this.” My brother stands over all of us, authoritative, hands gripped in fists at his side. The only sign that he’s any kind of angry. Everything else is flat and indifferent as usual now.

“All of you will be at my office inonehour. We have things to discuss.” With that, he leaves just as abruptly as he arrived. None of us hurry to finish our food. Clover only takes a few more nibbles off her’s before we eventually rise and get dressed to head to my demanding brother’s office.

Just to piss off Griff, we stroll into his office at CCS headquarters one hour andfifteen minuteslater. He doesn’t even lift his gaze from his computer to greet us. Just barks out a one-word command.

“Sit.”

I lead Clover to sit in one of the chairs. They’re the same exact one my father has in his office but with much less wear on them. Griff doesn’t have people in his office if he can avoid it. He much rather prefers conference calls, e-mails, and pigeon carrier letters with wax seals over dealing with people face to face. He’s not exactly the public relations type. If they plan to grow C.C.S. beyond local drug lords and gangsters, they’re going to have to hire a P.R. person of some sort or marketing magicians. I’ve heard mentions of Griff trying to expand to other types of faction all along the eastern coast. Trying to make us the top name in private security for a number of industries. Including celebrities, businessmen, lawyers, politicians, judges, police chiefs, etc., some of which are all in someone or another’s pocket. When you get in bed with criminals, you tend to need a little extra security when you go about dealings with them.

After Beau settles in the other guest seat and we wait for a moment, my father and mother both enter Griff’s office. Beau stands and offers the seat to my father. Out of respect, of course, because he is in no way elderly and unable to stand for long periods of time. Hell, if we went at it right now, he’d probably still kick my ass. Man’s got just as much muscle as me but with decades more experience.

My mother, who is just as capable of handling herself, takes a seat on the crisp leather couch along the wall. Sitting on the edge and crossing her ankles like a proper lady. Which is contradictory to the knuckle tattoos and fitted leather pencil skirt she’s wearing. Somehow my mother manages to balance badass and boss lady into one outfit. She helps out at C.C.S. with client relations but prefers to handle the money. Accounts receivable and payable, billings, payroll, that kind of stuff. I think that’s where Raven gets it from. My father is really the only one that is good with face-to-face client relations. Even when dealing with the less than respectable, you need tobe respectable. Otherwise, you’ll just run off all your clientele. Kill’em with kindness and if they’re still assholes, then just plain kill’em. It’s a family code of conduct of sorts.

My aunt Pearl also makes an appearance and takes a standing position near Beau. She’s probably only here because she’s the second council member for our family. This means this is going to be a serious and loud conversation.

Sloan barks from Clover’s lap. She insisted on bringing the little furball with us. Apparently, she’s going to train her to go everywhere with her and be her personal doggy-guard. She wants to train her in English and Russian because she read somewhere that it's harder for people to command them if they’re trained in a different language. German is the norm for training, but everyone knows that now because of the internet, so she chose Russian cause it sounds cool. Can’t disagree with her when she’s right. It does sound fucking cool to tell a dog to sit in Russian. ‘Sidet’pronounced see-dee-yet. Fits right in with our lifestyle, I suppose. Let’s just hope the Russian mafia doesn’t ever come after us.

Pops sees the blue-eyed Pitbull and reaches out to pet her from his seat next to Clover. Since Sloan is still a puppy and hasn’t learned yet not to let strangers pet her, she wags her stub adamantly and licks at his hand.

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