Page 106 of Whispers of Fire

“I’ll take you to Ares,” he says, awkwardly showin’ me the way with his hand.

“Already know the house, brother,” I answer blankly, patting his shoulder.

The large metallic door of Ares’s office stands in front of me, and I don’t even bother to knock. Ares isn’t the forgiving type, but I’ve got an idea and I fuckin’ hope it’ll work.

Cause he needs to understand what the Raven Sons means to me.

Won't have much leverage here. It's gonna be either a bullet in the head or another one of his twisted mind games he likes to play.

Either way, it was fuckin' worth it.

The door of his office opens, and Ares' massive figure comes out, looking like a mix of a professional wrestler and a biker, barely passing through the doorway.

“Well, if it isn't Judas himself.” His raspy voice echoes around me, the room filled with metallic and wood furniture, the light so dim it looks like the middle of the night at a poker game.

“Let me explain–” He cuts me off with a palm in his hand.

“Don't fuckin' bother, brother, ” he says, pronouncin’ brother like an insult, a fuckin' joke.

“Took you out of the streets, fuckin' shaped you into the man you are now, and what do you give me in return? You fuckin' disobey me?” His chest is heavin’ and his mouth is a straight line, fury roarin’ from his dark eyes.

“I've never betrayed you. For ten years, I've followed you like a shadow and I always fuckin' will if you let me make it up to ya.”

A cold laugh escapes his mouth. “Make it up to me? How the fuck do you plan on doin’ that? You fucked up, Vox, there's no goin’ back from it.”

“I couldn't let her die, Prez, just couldn't. You could have asked me anything, but not this,” I say, comin’ clean cause he fuckin' needs to know why. “Truth is, I'll do it all over again for her, there's not fuckin' doubt about it.”

“Oh, so now you’re just fuckin' insane? Ya trying to get shot or somethin’? You killed one of our clients and went on savin’ that chick instead of movin’ like I fuckin' ordered you!” His fist punches the wood table.

“Think it was fuckin' easy to do that?” I bite my fist.

“You think I care ‘bout that sort of emotional shit?” he yells back.

“Course ya do.” I stare at him, daring me to lie to me. Cause I know behind his tough act, he's a fuckin' softy. Always keeps our business away from human trafficking and any form of physical abuse of women. Even gave the younger prospects a talk on consent.

“I only disobeyed cause whether you had put a bullet in my head or not, I would have fuckin' died from losing her,” I say with every fiber of my being.

A moment passes, both of us in a silent standoff.

“Fuck, you fuckin' suck, Vox,” he grunts, taking his head in his hands, then pinching the bridge of his nose.

Good.

That’s good.

He's pissed but it's not irreversible.

“The thing is, I can't fuckin' trust you anymore,” he says, holding the top of his leather chair with both hands.

“You can.” I nod.

“How?” he asks with a cold chuckle.

He wants retribution, and I have to find a fuckin' way to make it up to him or it will be the end.

“Got a deal for ya.”

“Better be a good one. It's not everyday I get rid of my VP,” he says, tilting his head.

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