Page 5 of Blood & Loyalties
“Wait.” My brother scowled, grabbing my arm tightly and pulling on me.
I yanked it back as I seethed with anger. How dare his ass put his hands on me?
“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.” I bit out with what was left of my self-control, but he didn’t relent. Instead, he pulled me more firmly to him, making me gasp and no doubt leaving a mark on my body.
“You know we love you. We just want to protect you. If you’d listen to what we said about Antonio, I wouldn’t be here, cleaning up your fucking mess.”
A red, hazy film covered my eyes as I used every ounce of strength to rip my arm out of his firm grasp. He stood there in shock, looking at his hand like he couldn’t believe I had actually been able to get away from him. Apparently, I was stronger than I looked. He’d do best to remember that.
“You go clean up my mess, brother,” I snapped even though Scraper had said it was handled. I was just pissed he had made the comment in the first place. “That is your job, after all,” I sassed, leaving quickly with Scraper and my Ghost—who had come into play during the altercation—on my heels.
I just caught the smirk that played on Jag’s face as I breezed by him and Ace.
Outside, Scraper opened the car door for me, and I climbed into the passenger seat of the sleek, black automobile, feeling the coolness of the leather on my thighs. It did nothing to cool down the raging inferno inside of me, though. I only wanted to go home.
I replayed the night in my head on a loop, the alcohol simmering in my veins. My brother was at the forefront of the raging thoughts. He couldn’t expect me to continue on like this, being under his thumb, crushing me. He had flat out told Jag I was off limits. What right did he have to do that? None.
Before I could finish my thoughts, we were home.
Chapter Two
“HOLD HIM,”Val yelled from the nasty-ass alley behind the bar where the smell of sewer and garbage invaded my nose.
Before I could question their choice of location, I followed them into the dark corner. Looking around, it was actually the perfect spot: no walkers, dark, and two exits out—just in case. I shouldn’t have expected anything else from the underboss’s son.
Ace picked the sorry motherfucker off the ground, holding him up under his arms, the man’s slacked body held loosely like a fucking rag doll. Blood oozed from every surface visible, his hair matted, eyes swollen over, and cuts all over his face. That shit’s to be expected, especially if you’d had three guys working your ass over for the past fifteen minutes like it was nothing.
“Open your eyes, you seedy motherfucker!” Val punched the guy in the stomach, and his eyes flew open as he gasped for breath.
The guy’s sister did a fucking number on the asshole’s windpipe. Hell, she did a number on him in general. Now that shit was impressive—hearing what she did to the guy, how she didn’t roll over when she caught him screwing around on her. She stood up, took notice, and did a job without a second thought. She was one tough chick, but also showed great determination. I liked that.
Scraper had made one of the cleanup guys bring the asshole out to the alley to wait for Val, so he’d already been here, limp on the ground when we’d arrived. It wasn’t as much fun as when they were panic stricken, but it worked.
“You fuck over my sister and think you can just walk out of the fucking bar like nothing happened?” Val gave more blows to the man’s ribs, no doubt breaking or cracking them in several spots.
Blood dripped from the man’s mouth and head as he tried to speak, only to be punched in the mouth again for his attempts. He really was a pathetic excuse for a man. There was no fight in him whatsoever.
When my turn came back up for action, I punched and kicked, allowing Ace to let the asshole fall to the ground. Then I pulled out my knife, the sudden urge to do some carving coming over me.
“Hold him, hands and feet,” I barked, opening my switch blade and wiping the knife on my jeans. I really hadn’t planned on getting blood on myself tonight, but duty called.
I normally didn’t get my hands too dirty anymore when it came to shit like this. I had a shit-ton of men to take care of it for me, but the excitement that barreled through me was too much to deny. I missed this shit. I had always been fucking amazing with a knife—among other things—and it was a skill I was proud of.
Since taking over as aConsigliere, one of the boss’s right hand spots in the organization about five years ago, I had my boys to do the grunt work. I only stepped in nowadays when I felt the urge. Right then, I felt the fucking urge.
The asshole had wronged a family member. Now he paid.
“Antonio, is it?” I asked, kicking his leg at the kneecap and making the pussy screech.
“Gag him and lay him out.”
The guys let Antonio’s body fall to the ground, and then Ace reached over in the alley, finding some kind of dirty fabric and stuffing it in his mouth. He tried spitting it out, so Ace stuffed it farther down his throat, and after several attempts, he finally got the point and left it in.
Val had a sinister smile cross his face as he held the asshole’s arms above his head, no doubt getting off on this shit. Ace held his feet, ever patient and calm as could be.
“Last time I’m asking, did you disrespect Catarina Lambardoni?”
The fucker’s eyes rolled in the back of his head instead of answering, and I crouched low, flexing the knife before lifting it up and stabbing him hard in the beefy part of his calf. It would hurt like a bitch yet wouldn’t hit any major arteries.
