Page 62 of Ruthless Angel

“This burger is divine, Mr. Monroe,” Clover gushed. “This might be the best burger I’ve ever had.”

“Thanks, kiddo. Call me Desmond.” He winked at her, bringing a smile to her face.

If I didn’t feel confident in my relationship with Clover, I’d worry about him stealing her away. She beamed at him and nodded before taking another huge bite of her burger. Once I bitinto my own, I realized why she’d been so exuberant about it. Damn, it was fucking good.

“Any luck finding Brady Rollins?” Desmond asked, popping a bite of potato salad in his mouth. “My people haven’t managed to locate him yet.”

“We haven’t either,” Daire said, a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “We won’t stop looking though. He has to pay for what he did to Clover.”

Gage fake coughed into his hand while saying, “Hypocrite.”

Daire fired a glare across the table at him. “That’s a nasty cough you’ve got there, Gage. Might want to see someone about that.”

Desmond followed the exchange with narrowed eyes. A nervous heat spread through me. The last thing we needed was to air our dirty laundry in front of him. We needed his help to find Brady. If Gage opened his mouth about what we did to Raina, we were dead.

“No worries,” Gage quipped, drinking from his beer. “I’m fine. No guilty conscience here.”

“Who said I feel guilty?” Daire fired back, making me die a little inside.

Raina and Clover exchanged a worried look. Clearing her throat, Raina said, “I think we can all have a nice dinner. Can’t we, boys? Or do I need to punch you both in the face?”

“Raina Ann,” Desmond admonished with a shake of his head. “No violence at the dinner table.” To Gage and Daire, he said, “You two can either share with the rest of us why you’re taking shots at each other or you can cut the shit. Now who wants to go first?”

Tension gripped everyone at the table. Daire and Gage exchanged a hateful look before Gage said, “It’s nothing.”

Desmond nodded knowingly. “That’s what I thought. I’m aware there’s some kind of animosity between your two groups. Frankly, I don’t give a shit what that is. Either fight it out and be done with it or let it go. We have work to do together.”

“There’s no need for fighting.” Raina spoke between clenched teeth as she kicked Gage under the table.

Neither of them argued her, although Gage did shoot her a look that promised punishment later. If Desmond noticed it, he didn’t let on. No doubt he trusted his daughter to take care of herself. She didn’t want his interference. I was cool with that. I didn’t want it either.

The rest of the meal was dominated by talk of upcoming classes and Desmond’s latest business takeover. Like most mob boss types, he owned several legitimate businesses. A necessity when also running so many illegal operations. I was interested in learning more about his business.

When we’d finished eating, Desmond asked us to accompany him inside and down to the basement. Clover remained upstairs with Raina and the Gods. I knew where this was going when I caught sight of the metal brand hanging on the wall next to the fireplace where a fire already burned in the hearth.

“By joining my organization, you’ve agreed to become part of something big. Something special. This is how you prove your commitment.” He grabbed the brand off the wall and held it out for us to see. “Any questions?”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Daire chuckled. “Damn, that’s fucking wild, man. I like it.”

“Who wants to go first?” Desmond eyed us each in turn.

“I will.” All three of us spoke at the same time.

An amused smile crossed Desmond’s face. “Let’s go left to right. Blaze? Shirt off please. Kneel before the fire.”

A nervous tremor slipped through me. I’d faced torture at the hands of Brady and his friends. They’d done almost everything one could do to another person. Even though this wasn’t torture, it severely tested my mental strength.

I could do this. I had to prove my commitment and my loyalty to Desmond. Shallow breaths made me feel lightheaded. Focusing on filling my lungs with deep breaths, I pulled off my t-shirt and sank to my knees.

The watchful gazes of the other guys were heavy upon me. Desmond stuck the brand into the fire, getting it good and hot. I told myself repeatedly not to pass out as he turned and brought it close to my skin.

When the brand touched the flesh over my heart, it took all of my strength not to cry out. I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced pain quite like it. Jesus Christ, that seriously tested my will in every way. I fell forward, catching myself with my hands on the carpeted floor. The pain of the burn seemed to increase with every passing second.

“Motherfucker,” I muttered, swiping a hand through the perspiration that dotted my brow.

“I have some salve upstairs I’ll give you to help ease the sting.” Desmond turned to Daire, motioning him forward.

I shoved to my feet, picking up my shirt, afraid to put it on against the fresh wound. Goddamn, that hurt. I glanced down at the brand now etched into my skin. A small M that marked me as a member of the Monroe syndicate.

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