Page 16 of Blood
There are several large tables set in a circle with one gap to allow access to the inner ring. It’s the setup other people use to facilitate discussion, business meetings and the like. For the Brothers, it grants us a front row seat to witness whatever we’ve commanded: rape, torture, you name it. In some cases, it affords a front row seat to an execution.
Jimmy wrings his hands. He’s a scrawny little bastard with buck teeth, and right now he’s wriggling like the worm he is in the center of the tables. I never should have trusted someone like him to take care of this. He’s an underling, still trying to prove his loyalty to the Kings. He wants to be a bad-ass, to say he’s a member of a gang as powerful as the Kings, but he doesn’t want to put in the work. Worse, he doesn’t have enough at stake, especially for this job, or at least that’s how he saw it. All he had to do was make sure the job was done. I’m sure he thought he had nothing to lose by playing fast and loose with this one, since he didn’t know the whole story.
No one ever knows the whole story behind Kings’ business, other than the people in this room. Sometimes, even the Brothers don’t know the entire truth. And everyone has something to lose.
“It—it seemed like it was under control. So I, uh…figured things were set, once she went into the building.” Jimmy avoids my gaze, staring at the table before him.
This time, my words are deathly quiet. “Let me make sure I understand, Jimmy.”
He nods, a small smile of hope on his lips. I want to slap it off his face.
“You were asked by the Brothers to follow Everleigh. To ensure that the job was done and done right. Did you even go into the building?” I lean forward, my fist curled on the table.
He gulps and shakes his head.
“And now my sister is missing.”
He nods his head. “But I, um—”
I hold my hand up. “You fucked up, Jimmy. The Kings of Blood don’t tolerate fuckups.” I glance toward Dante. His dark expression and large frame underscore the authority he has as the Boss, and he’s the only one who can veto an execution at the last minute like this.
He gives an almost imperceptible nod, granting me permission to continue.
“Your blood will be spilled, Jimmy,” I utter the line that all Kings hear just before they die.
Then, I lean back in my chair. Jimmy’s eyes dart around in a panic, and I watch as they slit his throat.
It seems like the final word on the subject, and it is—for Jimmy. But not for me. There’s too much at stake here.
Where the fuckisshe?
13
Everleigh
Everythinghurts.IsupposeI should be grateful that Wolf brought me back to the cabin and cleaned me up. He could have left me for dead out there in the woods once he had his way with me. What does he want now?
I’m sore between my legs, more than I’ve ever been. Even more than I was after I was raped by one of the Sinners, a rival of the Kings. I think they thought they could get to Asher through me, but their plan backfired. I wasn’t wet for that at all, and it hurt like a bitch, but at least that guy was small.
The joke was on them, though. Asher hasn’t been my protector since he left home. I’m not sure that he thinks about me at all these days. But the rape was the incident that spurred me to ask for entry into the Kings, for protection from the other gangs in addition to the hope of Asher letting me back into his life. It never occurred to me that I could be hurt worse on this side of things.
Now that I think back on that time, I know this was different. I didn’t have a choice once Wolf caught me, and it hurt like fuck. But he warned me. I knew exactly what was coming if he caught me, and I ran anyway. And I wanted it. It’s half of the reason I ran. Maybe more than half, if I’m being honest.
I wanted him to catch me. I wanted him to take me.
I didn’t know about his piercings. But would I have made a different choice if I’d known all the details of the cock that was going to shred my insides?
My pussy clenches, and a wave of pain goes through me. Fuck. I curl my legs up until I’m in the fetal position.
At this point, I think he’s just toying with me. I know these types of men. Apart from my father and brother, they’re the only men I’ve ever known.
The men in my life view women as playthings. They have no qualms about playing with them any way they want and then throwing away their toys when they get bored. The tenderness Wolf showed me in the bath was all part of his game, wasn’t it?
The tears prick my eyes. How did this become my life? I’m about to let myself wallow in my self-pity when a scuffling sound makes me bolt up, and Wolf enters the bedroom.
He sits on the side of the bed. The mattress dips, causing me to roll slightly toward him.
“How are you feeling?” He strokes my hair back from my face.
