Page 19 of Filthiest Of Them All

“You’re going fucking crazy, Denver. I never put a tail on your ass.”

“Bullshit, come say it to the two fuckers I have strung up.” He’s silent for a second and that unsettles me more. When Carnage is silent for too long it never ends well.

“Send me the location.”

I snort. “You want to join your men?” I taunt.

“Fuck you, Alex. If what you say is true, then the order didn’t come from me.” I can hear the waver in his tone, something is going on in the De Santis family and it's clear Carnage is trying to smooth things over. But, why?

“They aren’t leaving my shop… intact.”

“No repercussions will come from my family if what you say is true. You have my consent,Butcher.” Hearing him give the green light to embrace my monster and allow him out to play sends a thrill through me.

“I’ll text you the address,” I say, then end the call as I stride into the main house. Vatican, Halo and Omen all turn to me with weird looks on their faces. “What?”

“She’s in Omen’s room,” Halo says. I shrug, then head toward the internal garage with Omen and Vatican following after me. I toss my blanket on the back of the sofa as I pass by.

“What are you doing?” Vat asks when I start punching in the code to one of the floor-to-ceiling safes we have. I have all my tools locked away in here, it’s been years since I have touched these instruments and just the sight of them is getting my dick hard again. My mouth is watering at the sight of my favorite hunting blade—the weight is evenly distributed and makes it perfect for flaying the skin from my victims.

“I got the green light, we have two strung up and waiting,” I answer as I start placing my tools in a bag.

“Who gave you the green light?” Omen bites out.

I stop stuffing my bag and turn to face them both. “Carnage.” At the mention of their brother’s name both of them begin cursing.

“Why the fuck would he give you the green light?” Vat pushes.

“Because Damon picked up two fuckers who were tailing us. Carnage swears it wasn’t him who had us followed.” Omen frowns and drops his gaze mulling over my words.

“If Carnage didn’t order the tail, then who did? Wrath and Rage don’t have that kind of pull in the family to go behind his back.” I raise my brows and shoot him a deadpan look that has his eyes narrowing to slits.

“Desire is making moves of her own without the family knowing,” Omen supplies. I nod.

“Suit up, we leave in ten minutes,” I bark.

“Who’s gonna stay with the girl?” Vat asks.

“Pope and Halo?—”

Omen cuts me off before I can finish. “Halo won’t hang back if he knows Carnage is going. I’ll stay with Pope and keep an eye on her.”

My features harden as I stare at him. I fight against the need to rip his head off as a spark of something foreign flares to life inside me. “You don’t touch her,” I grit out, then stalk past them both.

* * *

Halo, Vat and I pull up in front of the warehouse we have on the outskirts of town. Unlike the De Santis family we don’t peddle drugs, we only distribute guns and Kevlar piercing ammo. I don’t fuck with narcotics, I won’t be the reason someone else loses a loved one because of that shit. I may peddle guns but that’s a different beast entirely. The three of us climb out and make our way toward the blacked out Lincoln that’s idling out the front.

At the sight of us approaching, Carnage kills the engine and steps out. Both him and Halo are sporting bruises from their earlier fight but Halo knows he needs to keep his shit in check tonight or he will be dealing with me.

“You better be right about this, Denver,” Carnage growls as he falls into step with us.

“You better hope he’s wrong or you’ll need to find a new pussy to pound,” Halo snarks as we enter the warehouse. Carnage doesn’t feed into his bullshit. I lead them through the vacant space toward the back where we take the stairs down to the basement level.

“How’d you find them?” Carnage asks.

“I have my ways,” I answer. I called Damon on our way here and had him and our guys move out for the evening. Carnage can’t know about the Denver Kings and seeing a production line of guns being readied to ship out is one way to fuck us over and get us killed. I had Damon move the fuckers to our empty warehouse where we conduct our… business.

Vat pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocks the door, then waves us in. I smile at the sight of the two bastards chained to a beam with their arms above their heads. They wear only their pants. Damon has already worked them over pretty well—one of them has a flap of skin hanging from his cheek.

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