Page 63 of His Favorite Color is Blood
Tooth pinched the bridge of his nose. “Stop with the bullshit. You wouldn’t call us all for a meeting if it wasn’t important. Spill.”
Grim tapped his fingers on the glass of water he was treated to and raised his eyes to all the men present. All humor was gone from his mind. “You surely heard about the issue with a trafficking gang in Louisiana,” he said, and just like that, all eyes were on him.
He made sure to leave out some of the more intimate details, but he related the whole story of Misha’s capture, the hunt after Misha, the chip in his leg, the abuse, the torture, and finally—the newest development—Zero. By the time he was done, the need to find Misha and hold him close was so overwhelming he had to convince himself not to go.
There were no silly gay jokes and not even a hint of a smirk on the faces of his brothers. Priest nodded. “What can we do?”
Grim clawed his fingers into the armrests and looked Priest straight in the eye, with fire blazing in his chest. “Can’t let this fucker live. No one will disrespect me, and no one will torment my property. But to get close to him, I need that kill.”
Priest exchanged glances with Tooth. “We have enemies, but there’s no one we can have just disappear right now. We’ll have to talk it through, think of the options, ask if another state has anyone convenient.”
“Doesn’t have to be anyone important,” said Grim. “Come on, there is always some rogue dealer or a guy that looks at you funny.”
Tooth frowned. “We’re not a slot machine full of prospective deadies. We have to think about this strategically.”
Grim huffed. “Is there really no one you really want to fuck up, but your morals won’t let you touch? I am your man. Just use me.”
Milk leaned closer over the table just as Tooth was about to answer. “I know a guy who fuckin’ deserves it.”
Priest’s sharp gaze strangled the air out of him even before Grim could ask. “Shut up. We can’t have him take care of some petty personal vendetta.”
“Well, I need to kill someone. Might as well be a guy who owes Milk a hundred bucks. I don’t care,” said Grim, increasingly agitated.
“That wouldn’t have my approval,” said Tooth. “You’re way too precious for the club to take a risk over something petty.”
Grim’s fingers were itching to strangle and maim. All he needed was a target. And then, once he got into Zero’s proximity, he’d find a way to kill the shitstain.
Milk groaned and leaned back in his chair.
“We’ll find a way,” Priest said, and it seemed that was the last word on the topic.
Tooth nodded, stroking his beard with a deepening scowl. “This Zero guy and his whole organization … It’s some dark shit.”
“No kidding,” said Grim, playing with the glass. The damn flash drive burning in the fire came to his mind and made him scowl. If only Misha hadn’t gotten rid of that data, maybe they could go after Zero with more ease. “The fucker’s a sadist. He’s only gonna get more ruthless if he goes unpunished.”
“Considering the raid in Louisiana, we’ve practically already gone to war with them.” Priest shook his head. “I feel your thirst for vengeance, but we need to think this through.”
“The two of you can stay here in the meantime. You know it’s safe,” added Tooth.
Grim nodded, utterly unconvinced. He only had a few days left to go through with Zero’s demands, and if the club wouldn’t give him anything, he’d have to pick out a random person, something he hadn’t done in years. Since he’d joined the club, the guys at Charleston had shaped him. They made him realize that attacking random people was not the way forward. There were too many ruthless bastards who needed to be executed instead. Grim kept to that rule, killed only when the club asked him too, but Misha’s safety and Zero’s demise were of utmost importance now. Grim would break the neck of an old lady if it got him any closer to getting his hands on Zero.
Once it was settled that the meeting was over, Tooth got up and patted Grim’s back. “We’ll work this out for you, brother. Just need to be smart about it.”
Grim sighed but accepted the gesture. Tooth was so tight-assed sometimes. He was all about the rules, and while that was sometimes beneficial, this wasn’t one of those situations. “Did you guys move the issue I talked to you about?”
Tooth stepped back, and behind him, Grim saw Milk glancing back at him, but for now, it was wiser to ignore him. “The documents ... they were for that boy? Your … boyfriend?” Grim nodded, and Tooth folded his arms on his chest. “We’re close to finalizing everything you asked for.”
The rest of the guys got up from the table as well, some of them already leaving, but the atmosphere was somber. It seemed that no one really wanted to talk about torture and broken birds with no legs.
Grim nodded and smiled at Tooth, relieved that at least something was going his way. “Thanks, brother. I appreciate it.”
Tooth gave him a nod. “Come down for a drink in the evening. I should be at the club.”
Grim patted Tooth’s shoulder. “I’ll try to convince Misha to come with me.”
They exchanged a few more words, but then Don wanted to speak to Tooth about some accounting, and Grim was free to go and see how Misha was doing. His feet guided him up the old creaking stairs, but instead of an empty corridor, he saw Milk leaning against the wall by Grim’s door and smoking a cigarette.
Grim stretched and slowly approached the brother. “You want a word?”
