Page 15 of Satan
Yeah, well, I’d shouted at Chet, something I’dneverdone before. Something I’d always vowed I never would. Hehatedbeing scolded, and I’d lost my shit on him over something so dumb. He’d been expressing his feelings and his worries, and I’d shovedthem to the side because I was being my overprotective, jackass self as usual. Now, he was holed up in another man’s fucking room in an attempt to avoid me.
I felt like my skin was two goddamn sizes too small, but I didn’t let any of that show. Chet was safe, and for now, that was all I needed to focus on. Once the president of the SDMC was dealt with, I could come back home and grovel to my man. Once the threat to his life was neutralized, I could begin earning his trust back.
“You don’t talk for shit, do you? I see you talk to Chet a good bit, but you’re a cold mother fucker to the rest of us.” Rurik hummed. “I like it. Less chance of you saying something to piss me off.”
That earned him a snort. He flashed me a grin before focusing back on the road. “I’m going to use context clues and say your pissy mood is because of your man. Let’s take care of this mother fucker, and then, we’ll stop by his favorite food spot, grab him food, and after, we’ll stop by a store so you can grab him a couple of things he may like. It’ll soften him up.”
A bowl of shrimppho, a bag of skittles, and a teddy bear would be right up Chet’s alley. And while he didn’t like anyone else knowing he enjoyed softer things, I knew Rurik would never say a word. The Russian man might like running his mouth, but when it came to the important things, he could be trusted.
“And what do you plan to do for Malik?” I asked gruffly, curious even if I didn’t want to be.
Rurik’s lips twisted into a devilish smirk. “Chain him to the bed and fuck him stupid.”
A small grin quirked at my lips. Yeah, that sounded right up their alley.
“You’ve gotto be fucking kidding me,” Rurik growled as we stepped into the SDMC’s clubhouse. We’d double-checked everyone would be asleep before we’d infiltrated the building, but low and behold, someone was sitting on the couch, a beer in hand. He had one ankle resting on his knee, and he was slowly drumming the fingers of his free hand on the armrest, looking like he wasn’t the slightest bit alarmed that the enemy had just infiltrated his home.
“Hello to you, too,” the man drawled, lifting his chin to look up at us. “Rurik, right? You’re Malik’s husband. Barged into that bar when he and I were having a drink and dragged him out like a dog.”
Rurik stayed silent, but the way he cocked his head to the side just thetiniestbit sent alarm bells ringing in my head. Whoever this man was, he was treading on very thin ice with Rurik by mentioning Malik. Rurik was a possessive son of a bitch, even worse than me. “Malik called me and warned me you were coming.”
Malik did fuckingwhat?
“What do you want, Kaleen?” Rurik asked calmly, seeming unbothered by that bit of information. He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks. Despite his relaxed demeanor, I knew he could put a bullet between Kaleen’s eyes before Kaleen was even aware of him moving. Rurik had not become the second-in-command of the Washington chapter of the Russian Bratva justbecause he was close to the Pakhan. He’d gotten that position because he was a calculating monster.
“He told me your plan.” Kaleen set his beer down, then stood. “I offered my assistance on one condition, and he assured me you’d give it to me.”
Rurik hummed in curiosity, but I got the feeling he was also planning a punishment for Malik for butting in like this.
“What’s your condition, Jacobs?” Rurik asked him. “And it better be a fucking good one for ruining my night.”
“A trade deal with the Russians,” Kaleen said. “A vote will be cast for a new president once ours is taken out by you, and I know we all have an interest in partnering with Anatoly Balakin. I’d like your word that we will have that.”
Rurik smirked, but he didn’t seem all that amused. “Going for the big bucks, huh?”
“Doing what’s best for this club, and the current president isn’t it,” Kaleen said. “So, what of it, Tarasov? Will you give me what I want, or do we prolong this war?”
Rurik held out his hand. “You have a deal, Jacobs. But the only way you get to keep it,” he added before Kaleen could shake his hand, “is ifyouare sitting at the head of that table. You’re the only person in this fucking club I trust not to come after my man again.”
Kaleen dipped his chin. “I’ll make sure it happens.” Then, they shook hands, officially sealing a trade deal with the Russian Bratva. I cleared my throat, dragging their attention to me.
“I have a man to get home to,” I rumbled. “So, let’s get a fucking move on.”
Kaleen waved his hand and bowed dramatically. “Last door on the right.” He grabbed his beer and took his seat again. “I suggest you be quick. He’s a light sleeper.”
Without a word, I headed down the hall, the knife Chet gifted me a couple of years ago held in my grasp. I eased the door open, Rurik right on my heels. As soon as the hinges squeaked, the mother fucker woke up, just as Kaleen had warned us would probably happen. But I didn’t give him time to move before my knife was at his throat, the sharp tip digging in, already drawing blood. The son of a bitch froze, though his eyes were narrowed on me, not the least bit afraid.
I recognized a psychopath when I saw one.
“Want to know why they call me Satan, mother fucker?” I asked calmly. He only glared at me. “Because I’m the mother fucking devil. You fucked with the wrong one. Targeting my husband was a dumb fucking decision.”
With that, I jabbed the knife clear through his throat. When I yanked it out, blood sprayed all over my skin and my clothes, but I didn’t fucking care. In fact, I relished in it. I’d fucking bathe in the blood of Chet’s enemies if I could.
Rurik pulled his phone to his ear. “Clean up,” he ordered. “Quick and silent.”
With that, he hung up. Kaleen whistled low from the doorway, shaking his head. “So,you’reSatan,” he drawled, running his eyes over me. After a moment, he pursed his lips and nodded. “Fits.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the hallway. “I suggest you clean up. You can use my shower and some of my clothes. Then, you two need to go so I can settle this issue with the rest of the club.”
Rurik looked at me. “Five minutes,” he ordered. “More than that, and we run the risk of being caught, and this blows up in our faces.”
