Page 7 of Serpentine

“Man, I’ll fix it,” he finally says, giving me a soft look that I fucking hate because it means he knows I broke. That the manic side of me had overtaken me, and I had no control.

I open my mouth to say I’m sorry, and he raises his hand and shakes his head. “Where is she?”

“The clubhouse, in the bedroom. Blaze said he secured her for me.”

“Blaze is in on this, too?”

I shake my head. “No, he told me you were going to fucking kill me.”

Miles stands, rubbing his hand through his dirty blond hair. “But he still helped you.”

“More like he’s afraid of me, so he listened to my order,” I counter.

A huff of air leaves him before he laughs. “Well, at least they’re still afraid. Even while you’re out making stupid fucking decisions.”

“What are we going to do about Walter and the plans?” I ask. It’s another stupid question because I’m the one who fucked up.

I don’t have the fucking right to inquire about how he’s going to fix it.

“I’ll figure it out. Give me some time.”

Sitting back in my chair, I watch him leave the house. As he heads to see her, I let my leg bounce, anticipating what we’ll have to do because of my mistake.

Part of me hopes he’ll see it, too; that little something in her eyes made me knock her unconscious and throw her into her trunk.

Then I’m off the fucking hook.

THREE

MILES

The trek to the clubhouse should be the time I use to calm down because the woman my brother had stolen doesn’t need to catch the brunt of the fiery rage simmering in my veins.

I can’t believe he did this!

It’s true. I really can’t. Brax has been my brother for most of my life, but he hadn’t always been so close to me. There was a time when we couldn’t stand one another. I couldn’t stand him because he wouldn’t speak to me. I interpreted his silence as him thinking he was better than me. Now I know it was pain that kept his lips sealed. Now, I love him for the same reason. He’s the only family I have left. Dad’s in prison, and I’m ruling in his stead. Mom’s still missing, and we never speak about Brax’s origin. Out of respect for him. Fear of what he’ll do if we do.

The clubhouse looks like a run-down garage—and for all intents, it is. I push inside using the door to the right of one of the central bays, where the electric garage doors are shut.

Two Cobras are playing cards near the fridge and kitchenette just inside, smoke billowing from cigarettes—one in the ashtray and one hanging out of Blaze’s mouth as it gapes at my presence.

Oh, I’ll be dealing with you later. Don’t you worry.

My eyes convey the message, and he nods in my direction. “Pres,” he says, making Sully turn and eye me. He’s one of the meaner of our crew. Sully dons a scar that cuts across his face, mangling most of his left eyelid. He nods at me, turning back around before slamming a hand of cards down.

“Oh, come on, man. How do you keep fucking winning? That’s it; I’m shuffling next time. You’re fucking cheating!”

I shake my head at the two, turning to the right and heading down the short hallway. There are two offices, one lone bedroom, and a guest bathroom. Dad spent so much time here that the bedroom had been added for the nights that he couldn’t be bothered to trek to the house where Brax and I stayed.

The house probably reminded him too much of her, so he stayed away.

Sniffling rings out as my hand touches the knob of the door. It’s dingy, the way you’d think one would look inside a club filled with men who couldn’t care less about the place’s cleanliness.

When I open the door, she sits up and shuffles toward the metal headboard. Her left wrist is bound to the frame, and I mentally add that to the list of things I’m going to bash Blaze’s skull in for.

“P—Please, don’t hurt me,” she begs.

Anger moves through me like a fucking snake. “I won’t hurt you.”

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