DESTROYED Page 2

  Manic laughed next to me. “Little prospect got some balls.”

  “Shut up,” I snapped before tossing back the shot. It burned as it slid down my throat, but I loved the sting as it settled in my stomach.

  “Dude, you should lighten up a bit, okay? Get that stick out of your ass.”

  I held the empty shot glass out toward Dice. “Fill it.”

  Dice eyed me as he poured Jack Daniel’s right up to the brim. I kept his stare as I gulped it down without cringing. He waited a few seconds with the bottle in hand, until I waved him off.

  I turned to Manic. “I don’t have a motherfucking stick up my ass.” I glanced at Neon sitting next to Wraith. “I just don’t get that.”

  “Get what?”

  I indicated in Wraith’s direction. “That. I don’t get how no one sees her fucked-up brother whenever they look at her.”

  “It’s simple.” He shrugged. “Just stop obsessing about the fucker, and you won’t see him around every goddamn corner.”

  “How the fuck can you say that?” I clenched my jaw. “After everything that son of a bitch did? First Granite and Onyx’s dad. Then Neon. Alyx. And trying to rape Wraith, his own goddamn sister?”

  “Oh, so you do care?”

  “About what?”

  “Wraith.”

  “Not the motherfucking point.” I turned in my seat, frustrated as hell.

  “Listen man, just chill.” He placed a hand on my shoulder. “For one motherfucking night, chill the fuck out and hang with us. Get drunk, fuck a whore. Have a goddamn orgy. Just forget about all the shit that’s happened. Forget about Slither—”

  “Not a chance,” I snapped.

  “I’m serious. One night. It ain’t gonna kill ya.” He got up, grabbing his beer. “One night, dude. I can promise you, that rage will still be there tomorrow.”

  Manic walked off, and I called out over my shoulder, “I ain’t fucking no whores either.”

  “Yeah, yeah. We all know you lost your dick.”

  I cursed under my breath and gulped down my drink. It seemed I was the only one still obsessed with making Slither pay. Fuck knew why I was so uptight about everything, being a miserable shit. I had the fucker. I had him tied in a basement, with nowhere to go and nothing to do but wait for me to inflict more pain. A part of me wanted to tell the guys. I wanted each one of them to spill blood, blood that would atone for what that fucker had done to all of them. But with Wraith here, and Onyx being pussy-whipped, I didn’t know whether I was still able to trust him. Even though he had more than enough reason to want to carve Slither’s spine out after he tried to rape Wraith, what if she pleaded to his humanity in a bid to stop Slither’s suffering by my hand? What if Onyx had a change of heart, and decided to spare the fucker’s life to make his bitch happy? I couldn’t chance it. I wouldn’t. Nothing would stop me from eventually bleeding him dry.

  The girls laughed behind me, and I glanced at them for a few seconds. Alyx and Wraith both had smiles on their faces. Neon as well, but hers was different. Unlike the other two, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. She wasn’t happy. Not even close. As a man who had been standing in the shadows watching her for years, I knew every expression, every line on her face, and every smile. No one could read her emotions simply by looking at her like I could. There wasn’t a single motherfucker in this world who knew her as well as I did. That was why I felt the hate so strongly, bathed in the rage, because it radiated off her, reaching for me with its cold fingers of agony. How was I supposed to think of anything else when I could feel every goddamn thing she felt?

  The grief. The bitterness. The fucking pain. I felt it all the way to the marrow, and it was slowly gnawing away at my bones. Whenever she broke down, I fell with her. Whenever she cried, a part of me died. Every breath that tormented her haunted me. I was so consumed with her anguish, I no longer knew who I was without it…without her.

  For years, I kept my distance, thinking I wasn’t good enough for her, trying my best not to think of her, not to wonder how it would feel like to have her in my arms. Her infectious laugh used to fill the halls of this place, the most beautiful sound in our dark world. Whenever I was in my room and I heard her laugh, I would smile. It was the sliver of light that reminded me there was still some good in this life.

  But it was gone now. It disappeared the day they took her, and it never came back. They ripped it from her, ruined and molested it, turning it into nothing but a void of black. Because of him, I’d probably never have that again—never experience the laugh that made my heart beat for a moment. How was I supposed to live with that? How was I supposed to forget what they did to her, and what they stole from me?

  Never.

  Granite got up from his seat, and I narrowed my eyes as Onyx joined him, both walking in my direction. Fuck.

  I held up a hand, indicating for Dice to bring me another cold one as Onyx settled in on my right and Granite on my left.

  “Well, it’s not every day I get flanked by two dicks.” I shot them a cocky grin, and Onyx just lifted a brow.

  “Glad to see you haven’t lost your ability to crack a joke.”

  “Who says I’m joking?”

  Granite snorted. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  “Oh, so that’s why I got two dicks wanting a piece of me.”

  Onyx smirked. “Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding us for the last few days?”

  “Yup.” I picked up the beer Dice placed in front of me.

  “And that reason is?”

  “You know what the reason is, Onyx.”

  He shifted. “Wraith?”

  “She’s his sister, man.”

  “I know. But she’s not him.”

  I turned in my seat to look him in the eye. “All I see when I look at her is him. And when I see him, I see Neon, hurt, broken, and fucked up. So, forgive me if I’m not stoked about her being here and acting like she’s a part of us.”

  “She is a part of us.” Onyx straightened, squaring his shoulders and trying to shove that goddamn president tag in my face. “She’s my woman, Ink. Nothing will change that.”

  “Oh, I know that. The snake’s sister has you all pussy-whipped.”

  His jaw clenched, and it was easy to see the man was biting his tongue.

  “Ink,” Granite’s voice sliced through the tension, “I get that you might not like the woman.”

  “Might?” I frowned.

  “Fine. You don’t like her, and that’s fine. We don’t have to like everyone. Fuck, I don’t like my brother here half the time.”

  “Fuck you,” Onyx blurted.

  “Point is, you don’t have to like her, but she is Onyx’s woman, which means you have to at least tolerate her.”

  “What the fuck do you think I’ve been doing the last few days? But it’s like fucking ice scraping against my skin whenever I see her walking around here like she belongs with us.”

  “She does belong with us,” Onyx stated. “She belongs to me, which means she belongs with us. End of story.” He moved closer, eyes dark with warning. “Get used to it, Ink. Do whatever the fuck it is you need to do to make peace with the fact that Wraith ain’t going nowhere.” He retreated, but his stance wasn’t any less threatening. “And do it soon.”

  His warning hung like thick muck in the air, and I watched with narrowed eyes as he walked toward the bitches still sitting around the table, laughing like life was a fucking Billy Joel song.

  Granite cleared his throat, and I rolled my eyes, suppressing a groan.

  “You know what Slither did to her, right? To Wraith?”

  “Yup.” I didn’t look his way.

  “Yet you still don’t trust her?”

  “You know, it’s not so much a trust issue as it is a family-of-the-fucking-devil issue.”

  Granite leaned his elbows on the counter. “He almost raped her, Ink.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek.

  “She was ten years old when her parents started
whoring her out to friends. Her and Slither both.”

  “So, am I supposed to feel sorry for the fucker now?” I turned and met Granite’s gaze. “Am I supposed to forget what he did to Neon because sick fucks gave it to him up the ass when he was a little boy? Does that justify what he did to Neon?”

  “No. Slither will pay for what he’s done.”

  Oh, he’s paying.

  “But Wraith, it’s not fair punishing her for what her brother did.”

  “God, has everyone turned into pussies around here?” I grabbed my beer and got up from my seat. “Having a bitch seems to really change a man.”

  Granite’s irises darkened, and his lips pulled in a straight line. But I was long past the time when he intimidated me. In fact, none of these fuckers made me feel like crawling into a ball while rocking back and forth in the fucking corner.

  “You seem like you have something to say, Granite.”

  Granite smirked. “I get why you’re acting like an asshole. But here’s a little tip.” He moved closer, eyes glaring into mine. “Stop pushing us. We’re tolerating your shitty attitude because we know how you feel about Neon and what happened to her.”

  “No, you don’t.” I gritted my teeth. “None of you fucking know how I feel about her, and how it feels to know her life was destroyed, and I couldn’t do shit about it.”

  I pushed past him, knocking against his shoulder when he grabbed my elbow. “Look at her.”

  “Don’t fuck with me, Granite.”

  “I said look at her.”

  My jaw clenched, and I cut my gaze toward Neon.

  “Does that look like a woman who’s been destroyed? That woman is stronger than you think, stronger than any of us could have imagined. And she’s trying to move on with her life. You should do the same.”

  He let go of my elbow with a jerk, and I continued to look at her. Did he really think I didn’t know the level of strength that pulsed through her veins? I fucking knew. But while they all saw strength when they looked at her, I saw a woman who lost her light. It was something I missed every goddamn day. That might be Neon sitting there right now, talking and laughing, but I saw the cracks. I saw the broken pieces, and it gutted me that I couldn’t do shit to stop them from breaking her.

  Everyone, including me, was grateful she managed to survive, but that didn’t mean she had to move on without getting the justice she deserved—the revenge I was hellbent on giving her. Slither would atone for what he’d done to her. One drop of blood. At. A time.

  3

  Neon

  I saw the way he glanced at me every two minutes while he sat at the bar brooding. He’d been keeping his distance since I told him I needed space a few nights ago—the night I had the nightmare which had my screams tearing through the clubhouse.

  A part of me felt relieved he was no longer hovering over me all the damn time. But there was also a small part that missed him—yet, I’d rather swallow glass than admit it.

  “Neon, would you like a drink?” Onyx sat next to Wraith, draping his arm around her, a subtle display of ownership. God, he might as well just piss on her and mark his territory. What was it with these men and their need to fucking own a woman?

  “No, thanks.” I reached for my leg, shifting it in a more comfortable position. The leg brace was far more comfortable than the cast, but it was still a bitch to move around with.

  “You sure you don’t want a beer or something?”

  “I’ll pass. I don’t feel like waking up with a hangover. I feel shitty enough as it is.”

  Alyx leaned her elbows on the table. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “You seem a little…distracted.”

  “I’m not.”

  “You sure?” She slanted a brow.

  “Yeah. I’m sure.”

  “So, the fact that Ink has been keeping his distance from you the last few days doesn’t bother you?”

  I bit my lip, wondering whether me throwing her with my crutch would be a subtle enough hint for her to shut up. “I’m okay, Swan Lake. I just don’t feel like cheap beer right now.”

  By the look on her face, she clearly got the message in my snarky response, that message being back off.

  Everyone stared at me like a cracked piece of glass, about to shatter at any moment. I looked in Wraith’s direction. “How are you doing? Adjusting to your new environment well?”

  She and Onyx stared at each other all fucking googly eyes. “I guess you could say that.”

  I could practically hear the voice of cloud nine coming out of her mouth. Ugh. All the butterflies and unicorns flying around here lately were making me nauseated.

  “Okay, so, that’s my cue.” I grabbed my crutch and pushed myself from my seat when Alyx jumped up.

  Holding out my hand, I smiled at her half-heartedly. “Stay. You don’t have to call it a night every time I get tired and want to go to my room.”

  “But you know I always help you.”

  “I know. And I appreciate it. But I think I can manage getting myself to bed on my own now that the cast is off and I only need one crutch.”

  “You sure?” Worry lines formed grooves on her forehead.

  “Yeah, I’m sure, Swan Lake. Have another drink, a few laughs, and don’t worry about me.”

  Alyx smiled. “I’ll always worry about you.”

  I skipped on one leg and crutches toward the stairs. “Then I suggest you throw that expensive anti-wrinkle cream out the window, ’cause worrying about me will just make you fucking old.”

  Granite snorted while Alyx placed her hands on her hips, giving me one of her trademark glares which were a mix between I’m-not-amused and I-still-love-you-though.

  Alyx huffed. “At least let me help you up the stairs.”

  “Good night, Swan Lake.”

  I reached the first step and took a breath, focusing on the task at hand. Getting up these motherfucking stairs without breaking my other leg.

  “Let me help.” Ink’s voice came from behind, and I stilled.

  “I’m fine. I can do it.”

  He stepped in next to me, placing a hand on my elbow. “Just let me help you.”

  My first instinct was to jerk my arm out of his grip, but I didn’t. I stood there, not turning his way. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He sounded surprised.

  “I said okay. Now are you going to help me or not?”

  “Yeah.” He reached out, and I steadied myself by leaning on his arm with one hand.

  The first three steps weren’t so bad, but the farther up we went, the more tired I became. These damn stairs were like fucking mountains, and I felt the frustration knocking at my skull. I wanted to run up and down these goddamn stairs like I used to before…before…

  No. I won’t think about it.

  “You okay?” Ink asked, giving me a worrying glance.

  “I’m fine. You can let go if you want to. I can manage on my own.”

  “Never.”

  I paused, stilled, and hesitantly glanced at him.

  “I’m never letting go, Neon.” His brown eyes were a shade lighter than mine—more hazel with a honey tint compared to my darker color. I always thought his eyes were his most beautiful feature, while other women swooned over his boyish good looks and gigolo charm. Not to mention the tattoos that always seemed like a whore magnet. And walking with his dick on his forehead wasn’t exactly the kind of attribute I appreciated in a man—which was why he always annoyed the crap out of me. But he seemed different now. Darker. There had always been shadows hiding behind his quirky jokes and sexual innuendos. I saw it whenever he tried to act like he didn’t have past baggage like the rest of us. Maybe that was one of the reasons I kept my distance from him. I didn’t like the fact that he pretended to be something he wasn’t. But lately, he wasn’t pretending. He stopped pretending the day he picked me up off the pavement.

  I still remembered, but only flashes. The pain. The bone crushing agony whic
h was everywhere at once. And I remember him. His face, and the relief that melted away the fear when I felt him pick me up, telling me everything was going to be okay. Whispering the words, “I’m never letting go, Neon.” That was the moment I could finally let go of my strength and allow my body and mind to tap out—because I knew he was there. All of them were there. I was safe.

  But now, while I stared into his eyes, I no longer felt safe. My heart was starting to break through the wall it had been sheltered behind almost all my life, and I couldn’t allow it.

  Not now.

  Not after…

  I turned away, focusing my attention on the stairs I needed to conquer. On my own. “Maybe you should,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  I pulled my elbow out of his grip, steadying myself on the crutch, and moved up to the next step. “Let go. Maybe you should let go.” With effort and strained muscles, I hopped up the stairs, one step at a time. I didn’t look back, and he didn’t follow. He’d give up eventually. They always did. No man would endure one rejection after the other for long without their ego being bruised and battered. It was only a matter of time before Ink would let go and move on to an easier conquest. I was too damaged for him, anyway.

  Ink’s affection was quick, fast, and short-lived. It lasted about as long as yesterday’s news.

  “Neon,” he called after me, and I stopped as I reached the top of the stairs, now leaning heavily on my crutch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I didn’t turn. I didn’t respond. And I sure as shit didn’t entertain the thought that his words meant something more than a guilt-induced reassurance.

  Without saying a word, I showed him nothing but my back as I continued down the hall. It was only when I closed my bedroom door behind me that I exhaled, closing my eyes as exhaustion set in. I hated that I couldn’t even walk up a single flight of stairs without my body complaining with rapid breaths.

  I hopped over to my bed and placed my crutch against the wall, then flopped down on the mattress. Glancing down at the brace that was like a motherfucking crucifix around my leg, I wondered if it would make a difference when I’d finally be able to move around with no restrictions. Would one healed injury make me feel better? Would it make me feel stronger, give me another notch in my survivor belt? Probably not.