Page 72 of Filthy Few

Like I am.

Sitting here and gazing out at the creek that runs through the back part of Nikoa’s property, I can’t stop my mind from replaying the events of that night. I had a gut feeling all day, I could just feel that something was wrong—all day I felt off. I never said anything tohimor the others until before we left.

Learning the truth about who I am rocked me to my core but that wasn’t what broke me. It was seeing that headstone withournumbers carved into it.

4221.

Forever together to love one another.

That was what we had lived by since we were kids. We didn’t need a large group of friends or ever felt left out when we didn’t get invited to parties because we didn’t need anyone, we had each other. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, I haven’t been able to stop crying or get the picture of his face out of my head. The forever frozen terrified look in his eyes will haunt me for the rest of my life. I bury my face in my hands and cry.

Waylen is gone!

My Waylen!

I left him there.

I should have stayed but Nikoa made me a promise, he vowed to help me end the Saints and enact my revenge against those who hurt my best friend and he promised to help me find my mom. I thought he had her, if I had known otherwise I would never have defied Nexus. I would have worn that fucking stupid collar and knelt in the cafeteria until my knees bled. I would have done whatever he wanted. Instead, I chose to be selfish. I let my feelings for Vox Hatchett cloud my judgment.

I knew the texts from Waylen sounded weird. I should have known when he didn’t reply to my 4221 message that it wasn’t him, but I was too wrapped up in Vox and his evil dick to notice my best friend was kidnapped.

The numerous calls from him the night he left make sense, he was calling me for help and I was too self-absorbed and throwing myself a pity fucking party, so I ignored the calls. If only I had answered…

“You need to eat, Nova-Scotia.” At the sound of Nikoa’s voice, I turn rigid. I keep my face buried in my hands not wanting to look at him, every time I do all I see is Ezekiel. The knowledge that he is my biological brother still tastes bitter.

“Not hungry,” I force out.

“You haven’t eaten in nearly five days, enough is enough—” I lurch to my feet, feeling dizzy, and spin around to glare up at the fucker who stands on the porch, holding a plate. I try not to sway on my feet.

“It will never be enough!” I scream.

Nikoa’s eyes shine with pity and I fucking hate that we have the same color hair and eyes. Unlike Ezekiel, who looks nothing like me with his blond hair and blue eyes, Nikoa does look like me and I fucking loathe it!

“I know but starving yourself and sitting out here all day, every day until you finally fall asleep isn’t going to get you your revenge. If you want to slaughter those bastards that robbed your friend of decades worth of his life, then you need to woman the fuck up and get strong.” His words may be crass and blunt but they resonate with the darkness that has been festering inside me since that night.

“I want them all to pay,” I force out through clenched teeth.

“Then start by eating, showering and acting like you are actually living instead of walking around like a shell of a person.”

“Fuck you,” I snap.

“That fire, the one I see burning in your eyes, is what will give you the strength to carry yourself through all of this. Use it.” He bends down and places the plate with a sandwich on it on the steps, then stands and looks at me. “Until you can show me that you are ready for this fight, I will not lift a finger to help you.”

“You promised to help my mom?—”

“And I intend on keeping that promise. I have people searching for her and my informant is looking into it as we speak. Everything else is on hold until you prove you are ready. I will not bury another fucking member of my family, understand?” When I don’t acknowledge his questions he just shakes his head and stalks back inside the house, leaving me alone to wallow in the turmoil of my thoughts.

I know he’s right. I’m not in the right headspace to go up against the Saints let alone theFilthy Few. I know Nikoa doesn’t support my thirst for his nephew or his friends’ blood but I don’t care. If they had all just left me the fuck alone Waylen would never have been… I can’t even think about what they did to him before they eventually… did what they fucking did to him.

I force myself to think about something else, anything aside from my dead friend and missing Mom. I slump back on the stairs and stare at the sandwich, my stomach rumbles for the food but just the thought of eating it makes me feel ill. My cell begins to vibrate beside me and I look down to see it’s Vivian calling, again. She calls me at least a dozen times a day and texts me nonstop but I never open them or reply. I know she wasn’t the one who killed Waylen, but I can’t stop myself from placing some of the blame on her.

My phone begins to ring again and this time it isn’t Vivian, it’s Nexus. Red-hot anger soars inside me at the sight of his name. I still haven’t listened to his voice messages or read the texts he sent, too afraid of what I will hear. I allow the anger riding me to take control and hit answer bringing the phone to my ear.

“I’m going to destroy you,” I vow.

His laughter grates on my nerves and has me grinding my teeth. “Stop it, you sound like a spoiled little girl who lost her favorite toy.”

“And you sound like a dead man on borrowed time,” I grit out through clenched teeth. A range of emotions are warring inside me, pain and hatred are the strongest but there is also deep seated guilt. Nexus warned me not to cross him and I didn’t listen. I chose to believe that I had somehow outsmarted him and I was untouchable because I had Vox and theFilthy Fewat my side.

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