Page 12 of In the Light of Sin

Just another person you’ll fail, Darin. Just like you failed them all those years ago.

I breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth like the shrink told me to do when I started to feel angry, but it didn’t do a goddamn thing. The thought of Joslyn being dragged through that crowd of people, and they just let it happen?

I was going to use their blood as war paint.

Prez clicked the side of the recorder. Light static and loud music came through the speaker, as well as Joslyn’s slightly frantic breath. I could hear her trying to push through the crowd, shuffling the mic against fabric. Then the music began to dull as much as it could have, voices becoming clearer.

“What’s Joslyn doing here?”

“Shh!”Another voice hushed.“She can hear you.”

A snort.“No, she can’t. She’s deaf.”

Silence for a moment.“Didn’t know that. Maybe Jordyn brought her along?”

“Maybe,”he mused with an appreciative tone.“She’s a tempting little thing, isn’t she?”

I gritted my teeth, tempted to smash the recorder against the ground.“Sure is. She got her use a few years back. She was a crowd favorite.”

My body went rigid, anger seeping into the depths of my bones hearing his comment. I shouldn’t be surprised by it, women were just holes to the Flock and the Bloods. I just loathed the thought of her going through it.

It was silent for a moment, the image of what Joslyn went through trying to lace my vision but all I saw was read.“Wonder if Brian found anything useful in the Catacombs yet.”

“Don’t talk about that shit here,”the other voice hissed.“We’re meeting at the warehouse on Neva Thursday at eight to discuss it. If you’re not there, you’ll be bait at the next Blood match.”

Prez tapped the tape off before setting it down. “They got spies in the Catacombs.”

“Wonder why they had a bunch of pussy fighters down there recently,” Tyrant complained as he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet on the table. Uncultured bastard.

“So they’re rigging fights,” Knight pointed out. “Andre ain’t gonna like that if he finds out.”

No, he won’t. Andre ran the Catacombs with an iron fist. If he found out his money was being threatened, whoever was part of the scam would never be heard from again.

Prez looked over at me. “You see anything suspicious during your recent matches?”

I fought down in the Catacombs as recon for the MC. It was beneficial for both parties. I got to beat the shit out of an asshole, and Tyrant and Knight scoped the place out for anything suspicious. “No.”

“His competition has been shit lately,” Tyrant noted. They had been shit. One hit, and they were bleeding in the ring. There was no such thing as a fair fight, but I wanted more of a competition. “It’s only a matter of time before Andre gets tired of it. Sarge will beat anyone, but Andre likes the competition more… exciting.”

I was undefeated in the Blood matches. No one had ever landed a punch on me. I knew some fights I had to give and take to make a show and not raise suspicion, but lately, they’ve all been scrawny, cocky fuckers with bigger mouths than muscles. They were all bleeding with my first hit.

I’d even killed one with one hit. It was accidental, but it was deserved if he was rolling with the Bloods.Especially if he touched Joslyn.

“For years, we’ve been laying low. Shit hasn’t been workin’ well, so we’re upping the ante, brothers.” A malice grin that showed just how wicked our President was formed on his face. Before the… incident, we did things a lot different around here. But when Prez almost lost his life, we switched shit up. Something none of us liked but did because of the respect we had for him. “We’re goin’ back to the old way we do things.”

“Finally, Prez!” Tyrant slapped his hands on the table, excitement rippling through his high-pitched voice, giving me a damn headache. “What changed?”

“Nyla coming back into my life and her having a target on her back from the Flock because of that slimy piece of shit.” Nyla’s adoptive dad’s name was a banned word from the clubhouse. Prez promised to give anyone a strike if it slipped out. “Laying low ain’t doin’ us no good. We’ll show the motherfucker who runs the Flock just who he’s fuckin’ with.”

“Diamond Ridge already hates us, Prez,” Grim reminded him. “Gonna make them hate us even more?”

That was a fuckin’ understatement. One look at our cuts and up their prissy noses went. We weren’t good men, and our morals were even worse. The only people in town who liked us were the homeless and domestic shelters.

But that would likely change if we were truly returning to the old way we did things.

“Don’t fuckin’ care.” He was calm. “Takin’ care of our own is more important. Our mark on this town will be visible to anyone who crosses the city line. If they’re brave enough, they can stay. But if not?” The corner of his lips turned up, sinister and calculating. “Let’s just pray that they won’t need saving.”

The room was humming with excitement and curiosity. We’ve laid low for years, dormant on what our club truly was capable of. We didn’t know why. We could only suspect. But we followed our President blindly. He’s never given us a reason not to trust him, and until he did, I’d play my role as a soldier in his small army. Grim spoke up, buzzing from the news. “So, what’s the plan?”

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