Welcome to the Dark Side (The Fallen Men 2) - Page 57

“Not sleepin’ with her yet, brother, and don’t plan on doin’ any sleepin’ when I got her in my bed for a good long fuckin’ time.”

He laughed even as he shook his head at me. “Luckiest fuckin’ man I ever knew.”

My grin turned into a grimace. “Try tellin’ me that again when Queenie and H.R. rip into me about Lou.”

His laugh was even louder. “Fuck but I’d like to see that.”

“Makes one of us,” I muttered.

“Yer serious about the girl, then? I mean, can’t blame ya, I got young pussy like that lustin’ after me,” he whistled, “Well, I’d near to sell my soul for a shot’a that.”

I grunted as we came to a stop at the doors to the storm shelter round the side of the farmhouse. “Give ya a pass on that one, B.J., but next time you call my woman ‘young fuckin’ pussy’ I’m gonna have to tear a strip off you.”

His pale eyebrows shot into his pale hair but he laughed as he held up his hands. “You got it, Prez. This one means somethin’, good to know.”

I nodded at him, done with the conversation because talkin’ about Lou had reminded me of the rage eatin’ away in my gut at what that fucker dealer had done to her. I’da been pissed he played those fucked-up tricks on any one of the girls at The Lotus but that it was Lou made me feel like skinnin’ the man with a dull blade. I let the anger dope me up like a shot of heroin as B.J. held open the doors to the storm shelter. The air hit me like it always did in the deep cellar, earthy and decomposing. I rolled my shoulders and cracked my knuckles as I descended into The Fallen owned corner of hell where we kept the worse kind of sinners.

Traitors.

“Quentin!” I called out happily as I rounded the corner into the big concrete room and saw the drug dealer danglin’ by his shackled hands from a metal hook in the ceiling.

Priest had already gone at ’im. The right side of his torso was purple with bruises, red with blood and lumpy in a way a man’s ribcage should never be.

He’d left Kade’s face for me.

I nodded at my brother in gratitude as he cleaned his bloody hands over at the sink against the wall. The blood was the same colour as his hair and it always seemed kinda poetic to me that the club enforcer had hair like that.

“Did the rat bastard give us anythin’?”

“Nah, boss, he was feelin’ real tight-lipped. Was about to take out the pliers when Axe-Man told me you were on your way.”

I nodded as I pulled my tee up over my head from the back of my neck. No reason to get blood on anythin’.

“Oh Kade, you think you’re gonna get outta this alive? Let me tell you,” I said conversationally as Priest handed me my favourite brass knuckles and I fitted them to my fingers. “You’re gonna tell me everythin’ you know about those motherfucking Nightstalker bitches and you’re gonna do it screamin’, then garblin’. Why’s that, you ask? ’Cause I’m gonna cave your motherfuckin’ face in for playin’ fucked up games with my girl.”

“Your girl?” the rat bastard finally sniveled, fear sparking so fuckin’ pretty in his eyes. “She told me she was nothin’ to you!”

I grinned, flexed and released my fist as I drew closer to ’im and then reared it back as I said, “She’s every fuckin’ thing to me.”

My bronze fist hit him straight across the left cheek. I felt it crumble under my force. Heard the brutalized scream of the man a second later and knew, a second after that, when my fist reared back to connect again, I’d hear the pathetic excuse for a fuckin’ man break and start fuckin’ talkin’.

“They’re comin’ for you,” he said through his tears. “And this time, they’ve got help.”

The next night at The Lotus was crazy busy. It seemed every single brother of The Fallen and every single one of their friends was in the club, laughing, drinking and reveling in the beauty of the dancers. I was so busy behind the bar and backstage helping the dancers that I didn’t have a single moment to make my way over to Zeus’s booth. I’d had a brief flare of creativity and a good giggle that morning when I’d gone into the big department store halfway to Vancouver and got a little plaque made specially for the booth. God of Thunder, it read in red letters on a black lacquered background. I’d had Harlow help me drill it into the end edge of the table that morning so that when Zeus arrived, it would be there glowing under the red-tinged lights for him.

I’d been too busy to see his reaction when he showed up just after eleven and I was dying for a chance to hear what he thought. It was a stupid gift really, the kind a little girl might give her dad. But in some ways, I knew I would always be that little girl Zeus had saved in the parking lot of First Light Church and he would always be that guardian monster. There was something beautiful about the fact that our relationship had changed and evolved as we aged but that purity would always remain.

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