Page 31 of Poisonous Savage

Ichuckled at that.Hewasn’t wrong.Ihad contemplated gutting him afterIgave her over to him.I’mnot even sure what stopped me.Maybethe fact that she’d have been lost to me forever ifI’dfollowed through.

Laterin the afternoon, we all met up at the warehouse.Inside,RatandStiltlounged on empty crates, smoking cigars and chugging beer.

"AngeloDeMarco,"Ratsaid, jumping down from the pile of crates he’d been on and butting his smoke on the cement. "Thebastard crowned himself king ofTheBlackHands."

"Sonof a bitch."Heatflared in my chest, anger coiling tight. "Vitto'slapdog thinks he can run the show?"

"Seemsso,"Stiltmuttered, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists.

"Meanswar, then.Theycoulda just dissolve.Can’tsayIwon’t enjoy poisoning the bastard and watching his skin crawl as it burns."Isavored the memories of the past. "Westrike first, hit where it hurts.They’vegot that warehouse downEastside.Burnit to the fucking ground."

"Strategic,"Marcoadded. "Cold, calculated."

"Damnright."Mylips twisted into a half-smirk. "We'llrain hell onAngelo'sparade.Makehim wish he never left his mother's tit."

Thetension broke, replaced by a grim resolve.Ratwas the best with infiltration.Greasylittle motherfucker, but he got placesIcouldn’t.He’dhandle the logistics, andStiltwould handle clean-up.

Stiltcleared his throat. “Idon’t thinkAngelois stupid enough to start something right now… not withVittofresh in the ground.

“Comeagain?”

Hestuttered as he saw fury creep onto my face. “I…Ijust mean it’s not whatIwould do.”

“Right, and that’s why you don’t lead the mafia.Ido.Rat, get this idiot in the loop.Ihave better shit to do than explain it as if he’s a child.”

Stiltcowered under my stare before nodding. “Gotit, boss.”

I’dhave to keep my eye on him.Somethingdidn’t feel right.Thewarehouse door slammed shut behind us.Marcostrode beside me, his towering frame a silent pillar of support.Didn'tneed words between us; we’d done this a few times.Justanother fucking day.Brothersin arms, ready to bleed the world dry if it meant safeguarding what was ours.

Theride home was similarly silent.Ikept trying to push the image of my brother fucking my wife out of my mind, but it wasn’t working.

“Puton some fucking music, damn.”

Marcolooked at me before pressing the radio.Somestupid ass country song played, and it only made me more angry.Slammingthe button, the station changed to somerage metal.Finally.Musicto match my mood.Iknew she needed this.Neededhim.Goddamn,Iwas trying!Whatthe fuck else couldIdo?Isthis why she wanted him, too?Hecould give her everythingIcouldn’t?Whatkind of shitbag wasIthatIcouldn’t even drag my own damn wife out of depression?

Whatkind of leader?

Thegates groaned open, revealing the estate, windows dark, bar one small light.Shewas in there, probably curled up in bed, her soulless eyes staring at the wall.Asurge of protectiveness clawed its way out, butIknewIwasn’t the man for the job.Iwas relinquishing control toMarco.Justfor this.

Steppedthrough the front door, the air thick with the scent of anticipation.IknewMarcowas trying to be patient, but he was itching to get to her.Hemade his way to his room, andItold himI’dsend a message when she was ready for him.

Imade my way to our room.Thedoor creaked open, revealing her silhouette against the moonlight.Aspredicted, her back was to me, and she was staring at the wall.Ileaned onto the bed, kissing her forehead, informing her thatMarcowould be staying the night in here andI’dbe taking the couch downstairs.Shenodded, curling further into a ball.Maybethis was a fucking mistake.

Istripped off the leather jacket and tossed it on the chair before grabbing my good booze.I’dneed it to get through the night.MessagedMarcoto meet me in the kitchen asIclosed the door and went back downstairs.

Poureda glass of whiskey, liquid fire that burned all the way down.Neededthe edge gone.Tookanother swig, felt it carve through the tension.Marcosat across from me and just watched, knowing better than to say shit.

"Tonight,"Igrunted, "we fix her."

Marcojust nodded, his silence an agreement.Heshifted awkwardly before reaching for a glass. “So… uh…”

“Idon’t wanna know what you two do.Just… fix her.”Ihated how patheticIsounded, but it didn’t matter anymore.Icouldn’t lose her, not afterI’dfinally won her over.

“Onit, boss.”

“Brother.”Isighed, standing and grabbing his massive shoulder. “Ifmy wife had to pick anyone…I’mglad it’s you.”

Yet, even as the words fell andMarconodded, downing his drink in one gulp before heading up to where she lay,Ihad to work to unclench my gut.

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