Page 16 of Declan

I let that sink in, watching as realization dawns in his eyes.

“You should really do some fucking research before you take bets from people. Because they just might be family.”

His breath hitches.

Good.

I shove him off me, hoisting him up and throwing him into the backseat of his car. He groans, curling in on himself as I climb into the driver’s seat, locking the doors behind me. The car roars to life as I peel out of the parking lot, gravel kicking up behind us.

Jason sniffles from the back, his breathing ragged. When I glance at the rearview mirror, I see him wiping at his nose, his face a mess of blood and swelling.

Fucking pussy.

“Where’s the money?” I ask, voice flat.

“In the glove box,” he mutters weakly.

I pop it open, grab the stack of cash, and shove it into my pocket.

Then, I pull out my phone.

“Wesley,” I say the second he picks up, my tone leaving no room for argument. “I need you and Hux to meet me at Twisted Souls. Now.”

I don’t wait for a response.

I hang up and keep driving, my grip on the wheel tightening as Jason lets out a weak, pained groan behind me.

He’s lucky he’s still breathing.

I pull into the parking lot of Twisted Souls, and even though the place isn’t open until tonight, we never take chances. I don’t bother parking up front, I drive straight to the back, where the real business happens.

The entrance to the fight club.

Even during the day, this part of the lot is dark and secluded, boxed in by high fences and the weight of unspoken violence.

A pitiful whimper comes from the backseat.

“Please, I’ll get the money,” Jason begs, his voice hoarse, weak.

I don’t answer. Words won’t save him now.

I step out, open the door, and shove the seat forward, reaching in to yank him out. He struggles, limbs flailing, but against the adrenaline still coursing through me, it’s pointless.

His boot plants against the doorframe of the building in a feeble attempt to resist.

I chuckle, low and humorless. “For such a big talker, you sure are a fucking pussy.”

“Declan, what the fuck?”

Wesley’s voice cuts through the air, sharp with irritation. I glance up to see him storming toward me, his dark eyes taking in the scene. The blood on Jason’s face, the way I’ve got him by the collar like a disobedient dog.

The heavy metal door slams behind us. Jason is now ours.

I tighten my grip on his shirt and shove him against the nearest wall, pinning him in place.

“Time’s up,” I say, voice cold, controlled. “Saw him put his hands on a woman.”

Something in Wesley shifts. His already-dark gaze darkens further, a slow-burning rage settling into his features. He steps closer, his presence alone enough to make Jason flinch.

---