Page 28 of Revengeful Punks (Dolls and Douchebags)

“The hell?! Why didn’t anyone tell me? They didn’t say anything!” I panic, getting tangled up in the sheets as I try to scramble off the bed.

“Calm down, Mama. They know what they’re doing. This isn’t their first rodeo.” Dom sits up on the edge of the bed and wraps me in his arms from behind, dragging me between his spread legs.

“I fucking know that, but I don’t like it. I can help. I’m here and they’re out there putting their lives on the line!” I realize I’m shouting and panting by the time I’m done ranting in Dom’s face.

“You need to put your trust in us. We know what we’re doing, and that’s protecting you. At some point, one of us will be in danger, but we'll never be alone.” Tey paces back and forth across Dom’s guest room deep in thought.

He’s about to turn around to pace back towards the door but whips around with his jaw dropping as he stares at himself in the full-length mirror in the corner of the room by the windows.

“Tillie, my dearest love, what did you do to my hair?” He chokes out a laugh, trying to run his hands through his hair but his fingers get stuck in the braided strands.

“I got bored and can’t stop thinking about everything that’s been happening. It’s almost too much sometimes,” I grumble, blushing as they stare at me, and I reach over to grab the unicorn from the sheets to fiddle with it in my hands.

“Feel free to do anything to me to get your mind off things.” Tey cockily smirks, crossing his arms over his impressive chest, and clearly forgetting about the mess I made of his hair.

“Smooth, brother,” Dom says with a grunt and doesn’t notice when Tey turns his head towards him with clear shock on his face.

“Aren’t I,bro?” Tey comes bouncing over to us by the bed and lays a wet, smacking kiss on Dom’s cheek before backing away quickly, out of hitting distance.

Moments like this give me hope that everything’s going to be okay. It's a little glimpse into what my future could be.

I’ll fight for it.

Franco

“Forward the paperwork to my secretary and I’ll get back to you. Good doing business with you, David, and thank you for sponsoring my campaign. Elections will be here before we know it,” I grind out through a smile, hating how much I have to suck up to this ass, but his money will help me in the long run during the official race.

“Yes. Good. Good. Russo for 2021 has a nice ring to it. I’ll have my secretary get in touch with yours,” David mutters before a string of curses leaves his mouth, probably the secretary sucking him off, which is why he hangs up without saying anything else.

He owns companies and has connections to the right people that will open doors for me… It helps that he’s addicted to the coke Jin puts on the street. Everyone will be in my pockets, and no one will be able to stop me. He doesn’t even know I’ve been taking the missing shipments of guns and holding them until the time is right.

The elevator dings and I shove my cell into my pocket as I exit, walking into the main part of the huddle of desks where phones are ringing off the hook. Detectives and men in blue scatter around, shouting over each other, but somehow making it work like a well-oiled machine. It’s how we function. Coffee, chaos, and more coffee.

“Chief.”

I get mumbled responses as I pass by their desks, nodding my head without bothering to stop and say hi. This level of respect is well deserved, and if anyone tries to take it from me, they’ll have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands.

Shannon isn’t at her desk when I walk closer to my office, setting me in an already bad mood. For fuck’s sake, can’t she stay at her desk and do her job? I feel a kink in my neck, and maybe it’s a good thing she’s not typing on her fucking keyboard because I’d probably end up shooting it, or her.

I grasp my office door handle and am just about to turn the knob, but pause when I hear shuffling on the other side. Shannon knows better than to be in my office if the door is shut.

I don’t hesitate, I whip open my office door, and the sound of it slamming against the wall bangs loudly around the precinct. To say I’m shocked to find Logan sitting in my desk chair is an understatement. Quickly taking in the scene, I notice Nicky sitting in the chair on the opposite side of my desk, flipping a small blade in the air and catching it over and over, looking bored with his fucking feet kicked up on my desk.

“Son, what are you doing here?” I plaster on a smile, looking behind me to see some of the detectives pretending to be busy on their computers, but they keep glancing up and quickly looking down when I meet their stares.

I step into my office and quietly shut the door behind me before spinning on my heels with displeasure. Striding towards my desk, I loom over Logan, which he ignores as he leans back inmychair with his hands behind his head. I scan the surface of my desk, looking for anything out of place, but nothing is amiss. I still don’t trust it. I don’t like seeing my son in my chair, looking too comfortable. He doesn’t hold the power here. I do.

“I would have called but thought of stopping by instead. Can’t a son see his father in his work environment? So proud of you, pops, and all the good you're doing,” Logan drawls out, his eyes so much like my Helen's, staring up at me in judgment.

“Cut the shit. What do you want?” I grit out between my teeth. It takes everything in me not to whip off my belt and beat him until he loses that arrogance, but it’s been years since I last hit him.

The moment he grew into his body, becoming just as tall and muscular as me, he started standing up for himself. I remember the day he stopped my belt from meeting the skin of his back so clearly. He had turned at the last second and caught the leather in the palm of his hand. I was astonished and somewhat proud, but deep inside, I was fearful. It was then I realized my son wasn’t under my thumb anymore, and one day, I won’t have any control at all left.

“Nicky,” Logan calls out in an authoritative tone as he jumps to his feet, standing chest to chest with me for a second with a smirk before moving to the side so I can sit at my desk. The little shit paces around my office, touching my stuff, and finally stops near the door to face me, his arms crossed over his chest. Never turn your back to the enemy, I taught him that a long time ago.

I need to put him in his place before he thinks he can take my spot. He’ll learn, and I think I’ll teach him a lesson by playing with his little new obsession. Tillie’s pussy tastes sweet and just ripe for the taking… again. Seeing the anger and agony that was on my son’s face as I licked her pussy in front of him makes me almost laugh at the memory with delight.

“I’m sure you heard by now about the little accident with Carlos’ gang?” Nicky says in a tone that is void of any emotion. I can never get a read on him.

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