Page 27 of Princes of Carnage

She spits toothpaste into the sink and rinses her mouth before splashing water on her face. Before she can leave the bathroom, I quickly and stealthily move back to her bedroom and her closet, tucking myself inside to watch as she comes back to her room.

I gaze through the slats as she changes into pajamas, taking in her body. The curve of her hips, the sway of her breasts, the softness of her hair. The tattoos that stand out against her skin, decorating her body here and there.

She slips into bed and under the covers, tossing and turning for a while before finally dropping off into sleep. The moonlight from the window slants over her face, and I wait, just watching.

I wait until her little movements go still and her breathing evens out completely, and then I wait even longer after that.

I know she’s tough as a viper, especially given what Nico told us about what she did today when he went to go speak to her in private. I don’t want to risk her waking up and finding me here. For a number of reasons.

Once I’m sure she’s deep in REM, I step forward, creeping silently out of the closet, just wanting to get a closer look at her.

I stand at the side of her bed, gazing down at her. Her lashes fan out over the tops of her cheeks, and her hair spreads out over the pillows, falling like teal waves shining in the moonlight. My fingers itch to touch her, but I don’t give in to that impulse. Instead, I watch the rise and fall of her chest, the minute movements of her muscles as she sleeps, the way her lips twitch with her dreams.

Her pulse thrums at the side of her neck, slow and sure, and it’s almost hypnotic, the way her breathing and her pulse make a rhythm, the way she’s so captivating even in sleep.

It would be tempting to stand here and watch her all night, but there are other things to do. I draw away from her bed and slip out of her house the same way I came in.

No one is out at this time of night, and I make it back to where I stashed my motorcycle several blocks away without incident.

I climb on and rev the bike, the roar of it shattering the quiet of the street, and then head back to the Carnage clubhouse.

It’s a short ride to the place where we keep our headquarters, which is in a somewhat isolated area bordering an abandoned park and some woods. We have our privacy there, with no nosy neighbors to wonder what we’re doing and call the cops, and we like it like that.

The clubhouse is fairly full when I get there. People are hanging around outside, smoke curling up into the night air from their cigarettes, and even more of our members are inside.

They nod respectfully to me as I walk past them, then get back to their activities, playing pool or cards or shooting the shit.

“Hey, Killian.” Atlas’s ex-girlfriend Zoey smiles at me hopefully from her spot on one of the couches as I pass by.

I don’t even glance her way. I don’t like her, and I know she’s only bothering to smile at me like that because she’s hoping I’ll somehow help her get back together with Atlas. Before they broke up, she was more than happy to keep her distance from me, and I wish it had stayed that way.

Finally, I get to the back of the clubhouse, pushing through the door to the office where I know I’ll find Nico and Atlas.

Sure enough, that’s right where they are. There’s a bottle of whiskey on the table between them, and Atlas takes a sip from his glass as they talk in low voices. Both of them look up as I enter, and Nico smiles slightly.

“Report?” he asks.

“All fine,” I tell him. “No signs that she has any plans to betray us.”

He nods. “Good. We’ll have to keep an eye on her, but this is a good start.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Atlas asks, frowning at him.

“Yes.” Nico nods again. “It’s going to benefit us, in one way or another.”

Atlas looks highly skeptical of that declaration, but instead of arguing, he just pours himself another drink and knocks it back. Although all three of us are tight like brothers—or at least, as I assume brothers would be, since I never had any—Nico is the official leader of the Princes of Carnage. He’s led both me and Atlas through thick and thin, and when he has a plan, it’s on us to go with it. Even if we think it’s a bad plan.

In this case, though, I happen to be on Nico’s side.

It’s better to have Quinn close.

I pull out a chair and slide into it, sitting with them. I don’t usually drink, so I leave them to it, watching as they drain more of the bottle. Nico swirls his whiskey in his glass, murmuring something in Italian under his breath. He knows that neither of us speak it, but he was raised by two Italian parents, so sometimes when he’s lost in his own thoughts, he switches languages unconsciously. It’s one of the ways I can tell he’s got a lot on his mind at the moment.

“He has a plan,” I tell Atlas, even though that goes without saying.

“I do,” Nico agrees, looking up from his glass. “I’m trying to keep us safe. Quinn was right that we’re stronger together, and the marriage will broadcast that in a big way. With our two organizations on the same side instead of at each other’s throats, we’ll be able to deal with whoever’s been thinking they can come at us with no consequences. And if the alliance between Enigma and Carnage doesn’t last beyond that… well, it’ll already have been worth our while, won’t it?”

Atlas just grunts, but once again, he doesn’t argue.

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