Page 83 of Thunder's Reckoning
I caught her wrist, hard enough to make her hiss, and shoved it away. “You mattered when you stayed in your lane. You stepped out of it tonight. Hit the door and keep walkin’.”
Her eyes narrowed, fury burnin’. “You’re firin’ me. You can’t be serious”
“Dead fuckin’ serious.”
She staggered back like the words hit her gut. Then her lip curled. “You’ll regret this,” she spat, snatchin’ her clothes in a storm. “That girl doesn’t got the spine to last. She won’t satisfy you. She won’t survive this world. And when you crawl back, don’t forget, I warned you.”
I smirked, grim and cold. “The day I crawl back to you, Leena, is the day I sell my bike and start wearin’ khakis. Not gonna fuckin’ happen.”
Her face went red, twisted with rage. She stormed out, slammin’ the door so hard the glass rattled in the frames on the wall.
I stood there, breath steadyin’, starin’ at the desk she’d spread herself across like an offer. My gut twisted, not from temptation, fuck no, but from the truth crawlin’ up my spine.
Leena knew things.
Schedules. Entrances. Weak spots.
And she wasn’t the type to take rejection like a bruise. She took it like a blade.
I picked up the phone, thumb heavy on the buttons. Devil needed to know. He was the kind of man who could make sure she understood the cost of crossin’ us.
But even as the line rang, I knew the truth: Leena wasn’t the kind of problem you scared off with threats.
She was the kind that came back meaner.
***
AFTER DEVIL PICKEDup, I gave him the short version—Leena, the desk, her bein’ outta her damn mind. His answer came clipped, unshakable.
“She’s trouble, always has been. I’ll deal with her. You did right.”
Line went dead. Devil didn’t waste words.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and stepped out on the floor. The Pit was alive, chips slappin’, dice bouncin’, smoke so thick you could chew it. Men hollerin’ over wins, cursin’ over losses, the kind of racket that seeps into your bones if you hang around too long.
Horse leaned against the bar, glass in hand, eyes cut toward the door Leena had stormed out minutes back.
“Caught the tail end of that,” he muttered. “Leena tearin’ through here like her damn hair was on fire. You finally send her packin’?”
“Yeah,” I said, reachin’ for a drink. “She’s out.”
Horse smirked, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “’Bout fuckin’ time. Woman’s been hangin’ on like a tick. She’ll make noise, though. That kind don’t go quiet.”
Before I could answer, Wrath strode over, flippin’ a chip between his fingers. He leaned casual against the bar, eyes slidin’ from me to Horse.
“Who’s the guy Brenda’s seeing?” he asked, tone smooth, like it was nothin’ heavier than askin’ about the weather.
Horse froze. Didn’t blink. Didn’t drink. Went still as stone. “What’d you just say?”
Wrath tipped the chip, caught it easy. “Saw her in the park off Broad last night. She wasn’t alone. Some man I didn’t recognize. Tall. Dark jacket. Looked close.” He shrugged, all casual curiosity. “Figured you might know.”
The vein in Horse’s jaw ticked. “I don’t.”
Wrath held his palms out like it wasn’t meant to stir shit. “Relax. Just asking. Didn’t know she had someone in her life.”
I cut in, voice flat, rough. “What the hell were you doin’ in the park at midnight, Wrath?”
His eyes slid my way. He let the silence stretch a beat too long. Then that half-smirk tugged at his mouth. “Stretching my legs.”
