Page 43 of Revengeful Punks (Dolls and Douchebags)

Pushing through the swinging doors, I take the stairs two at a time and roll my eyes as I reach the top. Jin’s minions line the hallways leading to his office and a few guards reach for their guns when they spot me. I smirk, knowing they aren’t going to do shit. I’m tempted to sucker punch one of them and see how many I can fight off or kill. I’m not picky.

Logan stands by the door at the end of the hallway and looks at me with a blank face. He can’t fool me. His left eye always twitches when he's pissed off. I hope it’s a murderous twitch because I could do some more killing tonight. We didn’t kill enough of the bidders tonight, too many got away from the gunfire.

Shame.

“Lo.” I cross my arms and raise a brow while glancing at the closed door of Jin’s office.

“He and Franco are having a little chat,” Logan grinds out, his eye starting to tick some more.

“Yeah. Fuck that. I don’t take orders from anyone,” I state with a snarl and shove past him, throwing open the office door without giving a shit if I’m interrupting their little powwow.

I’m the fucking president of the Hell’s Devils. Nothing and no one tells me what to do.

Fuck them.

My gaze connects with Jin first. The smug fuck is nice and safe behind his desk as he counts money into piles. The only way you can tell he’s mad is the small tick in his cheek, otherwise, he looks like it’s just another day in the office.

The office smells of some sort of incense and the aroma of food from the restaurant underneath. It’s also hot as hell in here. There's only one running fan by the window, but I think Jin just likes to make people sweat. It makes you uncomfortable and nervous as your stomach sinks with that sick feeling.

“Where’s my son?” Jin asks in a cold, dead voice and reaches for another stacked pile of money to flick through as he counts.

Logan comes to stand beside me, his hands clasped behind his back, but I would bet my motorcycle he’s palming his gun that’s always in his belt at his lower back. We both stand there, not saying anything, covered in fucking soot from the fire. I hope my dirty boots leave stains on his flooring.

“Busy. He’s on-site at the warehouse to make sure everything runs smoothly,” I reply gruffly, staring him down with my arms folded over my chest.

I’m not scared of him, and he’s going to learn one day that he’s just a man who will be staring down a barrel.

“Is that so? I just got off the phone with Franco and he was asking where you all are.” Jin slaps his hand on the hard surface of his desk in anger and grabs the TV remote, turning up the volume.

I look at the screen and grit my teeth when I see Franco on the news giving a statement, acting like the concerned Chief of Police.

“As of right now, we don’t know how the fire started or how many casualties. We are looking at the scene and will know more soon. There’s been raves around these parts, so we are hoping just a few kids were messing around. I care about this city and its safety. We will find answers, and in the coming days, the drugs on the streets will be seized.”

Franco’s voice drones on and on about bullshit, answering every question the reporter has with an easy smile. He’s charming, saying the right words, but he’s a lying bastard. The people of Los Angeles don’t know this, they see someone who can clean up their city. He’s going to make it togovernor, it’s a gut feeling I have. We’ll have to move plans up faster before that ever happens.

“How about you start again and move out of my guest's way? You're blocking the door.” Jin gestures behind Logan and I as he hits mute on the TV again.

My shoulders tense. I don’t like knowing someone is standing behind me without them making a damn sound to alert me. Moving away from the doorway, my nostrils flare as Cruz steps into the office with purpose. I look out of the corner of my eye at Logan, his pupils are dilated and eyes narrowed on his target with death in his gaze. Shooting my hand out, I clamp it on Logan’s shoulder and squeeze so tight that I’m pretty sure I’m crushing his bones.

“Not here, brother. It’s not your kill. Remember that.” I whisper so low that only he can hear me.

Logan shrugs my hand off and straightens his suit jacket before clasping his hands behind his back again, but I can hear his teeth grinding.

“He’s busy. Did your clients make it out?” Logan asks, changing the subject to something that’s going to have Jin blowing a gasket.

I can’t take my eyes off of Cruz, watching as he plops himself down on the couch under the window and lifts his feet up onto the coffee table. He meets my gaze with a smirk, like he knows something I don’t.

If you look past the dead, blue eyes of his, you can see the murderer's rage underneath the surface. I refuse to break eye contact first, letting him know who’s the fucking alpha in the room.

“My clients are either dead or never doing business with me again,” Jin states calmly, and that raises my hackles. “But luckily, Cruz can help with that situation. He’s agreed to supply me with new, shiny merchandise that anyone in the market looking for fresh meat won’t be able to resist.”

Motherfucker!

“When you see my son, and he’s done playing with his pet, I want to see him. I want that fucker, Dom, dead, his head on a spike! I know it was his gang that interrupted my auction. I’m putting a price on his head,” Jin demands harshly and snaps his fingers just before he gets back to counting money.

Barely-clad women enter the room with silver trays of cocaine, offering some to Lo and I, but I just glare until they walk away in their high heels. One of them bends down to Cruz and cries out in pain as he grabs her wrist, dragging her down until she’s sprawled out on his lap. He grabs a baggie of pure powder and dips his pinky in, holding it to the girl’s mouth until she opens up. He rubs the cocaine along her gums and draws a straight line on the top of her breasts before snorting it.

“Tell Tillie I’ll be seeing her soon. I have to take a road trip but I’ll be back before you know it,” Cruz says, not even bothering to look our way as he watches the girl on his lap sway from the drugs before pulling out a knife from his pocket.

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