Page 8 of Echoes of Fear

Alexander Hayes, thirty-seven years old. Born October 31, 1987, to Cecil Hayes and Evelyn Bright. Raised by his older brother after his parents both passed from cancer three months apart.

Benjamin Shaw, thirty-one years old. Born October 25, 1993, to Marsha and Donnie Shaw. He once cornered a gay man in an ally and beat him until his face was unrecognizable because the man flirted with him. He was acquitted of all charges for lack of proof because the police suck at their jobs. I don’t think we’re going to be friends.

And finally, Anthony Taylor Jr, thirty-nine years old. Born June 19, 1985, to Anthony and Kathy Taylor. Quit the force after his partner was killed while on the job. Not only did he get his revenge, but he and King saved a truckful of women that were about to be sold. He’s president of the Dark Sentinels and owner of Sentinel Security.

Currently, each of you is a member of the Dark Sentinels and seems to be on the legal side of things. I know better. But don’t worry, I’ll keep your secrets.”

Holy fuck.

“Dude, you are scary as fuck,” Hayes exclaims.

“Not scary,” Knox says, looking back at the floor. “Just smart.”

“I didn’t beat that fuckin’ faggot,” Ben yells, jumping to his feet.

“You did, Benjamin,” Knox says to the floor. My fist clenches when I see that he’s pushed himself further behind the twins.

He’s scared.

But so damn brave.

“There’s no proof,” Ben yells.

“The police found no proof,” Knox says softly. “That doesn’t mean there isn’t any. Buffoons, the lot of them.”

I think it’s about time I do something about Ben. His time in my club has been on a timer, as it is.

“The man survived and is now happily married,” Knox continues. “I have no intent on messing up his life just to throw you in jail. I won’t be sending the proof to the police.”

Ben visibly relaxes.

“This time,” Knox finishes.

I couldn’t help the smile that spreads across my face even if I wanted to.

I like this boy. He’s feisty.

“I think you and I are going to be great friends,” Mitchell laughs.

“I doubt it,” Knox shakes his head. “You’re a monster. Who doesn’t like chocolate?”

“What if I change my ways?” Mitchell asks. “Could we be friends then?”

“Only if you share,” he answers after thinking it through.

“That I can do, buddy.”

Knox sits on the floor between his two bodyguards and crosses his legs. He looks up and meets my eyes for a split second before his whole face turns red, and he lowers his gaze once more.

So fuckin’ cute.

“Why are you sitting on the floor, little one?” I ask. “There is a comfy-looking sofa by the window behind you.”

Little one?

I need to slow the fuck down. Even if this boy wasn’t scared out of his mind, he couldn’t deal with the level of control I need.

“Safe,” he answers, reaching out to place a hand each on Blaze and Steel’s boots.

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