Page 17 of Fragile Facade
Yates steps forward, but Riot flings a dagger. It embeds in Yates’ shoulder, and then Riot grabs me, and I have to goddamn go along with it. He spins me, my back to his chest, his arm around my throat and his mask beside my head.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers. “I like this look on you. Pathetic and weak.”
Reaching back, I snug a throwing knife up to his inner thigh and ask, “Pathetic and weak?”
He groans. “This is how it’s going to go, Yates. You wanna work together, you’ll send this one.” He taps my chest with his palm. “Messages come through him. If he isn’t available, I’ll take that one.” He points at Lock. “But if you ever fucking talk to me again, I won’t miss your throat.”
Yates leaves the dagger in his shoulder. “Fuck Vile House,” he snarls. “This was a warning. But I’ll make sure Moros knows you turned your back on it.”
“Moros knows where to turn for help,” Riot says. “And it sure as fuck isn’t you. Why not put that one in charge?” he asks, nodding to Lock again. “I’ll kill you and your pathetic son tonight and set the balance right in Moros when he takes over. How’s that sound?”
Fuck, he’s dumb. He’s going to get Lock killed. I press my ass back to warn him to shut up, but all it does is draw another groan from his throat.
Yates looks at Lock. “You fucking betraying bastard.” Lock hasn’t betrayed anyone, but he doesn’t deny it. He’s done taking Yates’ shit, just like I am. “Get the fuck out and don’t come back.”
Lock barely reacts to being thrown from the gang he’s been in for fifteen years. Looking at me, he asks, “You good, Sauder?”
“Oh, he’s good,” Riot answers for me. “He’s Yates’ little bitch now, and with you gone, he just moved up in rank.” Riot presses his hard cock against my ass before pushing me away. “Next time you want Vile House to save your ass, send Sauder. I won’t look at you again.” Riot turns and strides out of the park. “Lockan Tate,” he calls. “Let’s go.”
Lock gives me a nod and a secretive smirk, and then he stalks off with Riot, turning to walk backwards long enough to give Yates the finger and a smile.
I’m trembling. With rage. Because Riot just fucked me over so hard.
7
90 SECONDS
RIOT
After a meetingabout the kid’s dead dad, the homicide detective bullshit, and this supposed ambush on Saturday night, we’re all sitting around the cafeteria, eating dinner and decompressing. I’ve never truly felt Moros was threatened until now. Reaper Corp is rich, powerful, and merciless, and if they want our town, they have the means to take it. But we won’t let them have it without a fight, and now that my home is being threatened for real, I’m realizing how loyal I am to it.
Moros is everything to me. It’s the one place where I fit. It’s powerful in its own right, has a history I’ve become attached to, and has given me the means and the comfort to be exactly who I am without needing to hide all the time. I might not know who I am at my base, but I do know that belonging to Vile House has given me the time and safety to bring forth my instinctual urges. Director watches over us, but he doesn’t tamp us, and fuck, I hate him sometimes, but I appreciate him for recognizing and accepting all our traits.
The world would see us as criminally insane; Director sees us as crucial evil. It’s the perfect balance.
Ghost has been gone ever since the meeting last night. After I made him important and pissed off Yates, Ghost will be suffering the downfall of that. I grin at my plate, my blood surging to life in anticipation of how he’s going to take it out on me.
After I left with Lockan, we walked down Death Row in silence. He smoked, and I stayed quiet, but he knew.He knows. My voice was modulated, but he’s a smart, perceptive man, and he wouldn’t have walked away from his gang with a Vile Boy if he didn’t have another plan up his sleeve. When we got to the dead centre of town, he stopped, looked at me in my mask, and said, “Assume you guys have a plan?”
I nodded, and with that, we parted ways. Guess we’ll see how his plans mesh with Director’s plans, but for now, I’m staying out of it.
The cafeteria door opens, and I look, immediately grumpy that it isn’t Ghost. Director walks in with Psych and Media, the latter going to fill their plates and the former coming right at me.
“Where’s Ghost?” Director asks.
I shrug, not even attempting to tame my grin.
“He’s supposed to watch Lock for me tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because Yates won’t let him go freely. They’ll be coming for him.”
“Seems like he can handle his own shit,” I comment.
“Yeah, but with Ghost not back, it falls on you to keep an eye on him tonight. I want to see how Yates reacts, but I also want intel on what Lockan does. If he’s going to be our ally with The Misfits, I need to know he has the power to control them.”
Oh, he has the power. I spied on them before making myself visible for the meeting, and inside the hall, the gang members all flocked to Lock for advice and guidance. In their minds, he’s the rightful leader, and an overtaking isn’t going to be hard. Yates is a shifty bastard, so he’ll put up a fight, but if he has Reaper Corp in his pocket, that’s a whole other issue.
