Page 42 of Filthiest Of Them All

“Word of advice, don’t push him when it comes to his past,” Halo 2 says.

“Your advice means nothing to me. This morning you were the enemy and that still hasn’t changed,” I grit out, then follow after Alex. Before I can get more than five steps, Omen grips my arm and spins me around to face him. “What.”

His gaze bores into mine. “I know you’re mad. I know he fucked up with you tonight, but you need to know the full story before you write him off.”

“And what is the full fucking story, Omen? I’m getting really tired of you all turning my life upside down and expecting me to control the monster sitting on that plane, the very fucking monster that your own sister created!” I suck in a deep breath and wait for him to respond.

“She may have created the monster, but we all know you’re stronger than her, Tate.”

“How?”

He smiles devilishly. “She may have created the beast but you’re the one who can control it. We saw that tonight when you brought him back from the brink of blacking out and going on a killing spree. None of us could have stopped him from doing that, but you did.” My jaw unhinges. “If he doesn’t tell you his story, I will, but it's better you hear it from him because he was the one who lived it.”

“Desire will try and kill you because it will hurt him.” I turn to see Halo standing beside Omen.

“Why would me dying hurt him?” I mutter.

Halo 2 comes to stand on Omen’s other side. “Because he never loved her or looked at her the way she saw him look at you today. You may know nothing about him, but that doesn't mean you feel nothing for The Butcher. You did what our sister couldn’t,” he says in a tone that brokers on the edge of pride.

“What did I do?” I ask, my curiosity piqued.

“You made him feel.” I frown at Halo 2. “He hasn’t felt a single ounce of happiness or any emotion really aside from bloodlust since he buried his little sister. Stew on that while you sit on your high horse and judge him for seeking vengeance against the innocent little girl your brother drugged, raped and strangled to death.”

Alexander

I haven’t spoken a word to Tatum the whole flight. She pushed me too far and I had to escape before I said or did something I wouldn’t be able to take back. When we landed, I chose to ride alone with Carnage while Vat drove her, Omen, Pope and Halo back to our house.

I can’t even find it within myself to be grateful that Carnage got my men released from jail and put on the next flight out of Chicago. The guys tried to get me to talk on the plane but I just ignored them and got lost in my own head.

Admitting to Tatum how I got the scars opened old wounds.

She has no idea the history I share with these guys or Desire. In her head she probably thinks I’m still hung up on my ex, when in truth, she was never my girlfriend. Carnage thought I was in love with her, so did Pope and Vat, but I never was. Desire isn’t someone you fall for, she is just someone to pass the time with. Sort of like me. I’m not someone who can love or express emotions. I show how I feel by ripping motherfuckers apart slowly. I’m the guy to get down on one knee and offer you the heart of the person you hate most, not some fucking ring.

“She wants answers, you gonna give them to her?” I just grunt in answer. I have nothing else to say to him or anyone else right now. The second we hit my driveway, some of the tension eases from inside me, knowing we’re home and I’ll get some peace. I hate the fucking city, it’s not a place I even like to visit unless I have to. All the noise and how busy it is screws with my head and puts me on edge. “So this is where you have been hiding, huh?” I don’t bother replying. Carnage knew my family had a home out here, and why he never snitched to his sister about it, I have no fucking clue. He parks behind the other car. I spot a few of my guys I left behind as I get out. I nod to them, letting them know to fan out and keep an eye on our borders. I wouldn’t put it past that bitch to have someone tailing us. How I missed my tail for months, I have no fucking clue.

Maybe she really was a distraction.

I push that thought away when I see Tatum climb out of the back of the car. She looks directly at me. I see the war of emotions in her eyes and right now, I can’t process my own let alone dealing with hers, so I look away and make my way toward my cabin out the back. It’s late and I need to sleep. I’ll deal with the fall out of everything in the morning.

“Alex?” I pause but don’t turn back to face Pope. “Tomorrow morning, we want an explanation.” I nod my head, then carry on to my cabin to enjoy one last night of peace before I shatter the rest of our lives with the truth in the morning.

Desire is the only other person that knows why I killed Roberto De Santis.

“Wait, what the fuck?” I hear Carnage shout behind me, but I don’t stick around. I head to my house, needing some fucking time to process this shit.

The second I step foot inside my house the tension evaporates. I make my way to the bathroom, needing to shower and to get out of these damp fucking clothes, then sleep. I stand under the spray of the shower and allow it to wash away my stress. I force my mind to go blank and shut down all my thoughts. Me getting lost in my own head never ends well, it’s been years since I released all my pent up aggression. The other night interrogating those brothers was just an appetizer.

That reminds me, I need to make contact with that fucker Devon and see what he knows. I know that little shit won’t double cross me since I’m the one with the keys to his brother’s freedom. He’s currently under guard at the local hospital. I paid the doctors to keep him in an induced coma, Devon needs to prove his worth before I allow his brother to wake up. I haven’t made contact with him, I need him to get closer to her before he can be of any worth to me.

Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and use another to dry my hair before I tie it up. I’ve been debating chopping it all off but I can never bring myself to shave my beard or cut my hair because my sister always loved it. She said it made me look like a fucking lumberjack from one of the books she used to read. I still have all her books in boxes. I just couldn’t bring myself to allow my parents to take them when they packed her room up. I know people say there are stages to grief and the final step is letting go, but I can’t. To let her go would mean my purpose in life has been fulfilled and that shit makes me feel like I would be acting like she never existed.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror and run my fingers over the tattoo across my heart.

Ellie.

I drop my gaze to the tattoo across my stomach,De Santis Cosa Nostra. At the time, I thought I would spend my life serving them and had no issues having that shit inked on me when Desire said it was something I had to do in order to prove myself to her family. How fucking wrong was I? The truth is, the only family I have is the Denver Kings. We aren’t a gang or some mafia fucking family, we’re just a family who is loyal and will go to fucking war for each other if need be. I turn away from the mirror and exit the bathroom only to come to a halt at the sight of Tatum sitting on the edge of my bed, holding a photo. I can tell from the frame that it's the picture of me and Ellie.

She slowly lifts her gaze to mine and I see the fire twirling in her blue eyes that has my abs constricting and bracing for a fight that I know is about to come.

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