Page 37 of Mimic
“Fuck, you know why I’m calling?”
“Of course, baby. I got just what you need. Give me a couple hours and I’m all yours.”
“Okay, call me back.”
“Talk to you soon, baby.”
Angel made kissing noises before the line disconnected, and Jack burst out laughing. “What... the fuck... was that?” he asked between guffaws.
“How the fuck did he know why you were calling?” Jingles asked.
“Because he knows Blade hates him. So if he’s calling, it’s fucking serious,” King said.
“Think he knows the Death Dogs are up here?” Gunner asked.
“Yeah, I do.”
I agreed with King. That phone call did nothing to steady the concerns we all had running through our heads. According to Sypher, Steele and Stone murdered their parents to take over the club. Anyone who would murder their parents wouldn’t think twice about turning their back on their brothers. According to King, Steele already had when he sent Chasm into a warehouse alone before it blew up.
Chasm was another brother I didn’t know. His death was the catalyst for King asking for his own club. A club that was now at war, and it appeared we might not have the backing of our Mother Chapter.
We knew Skinner was in bed with Daniel Scott, and Steele was in bed with Skinner. What we didn’t know was what that had to do with Indie. She wasn’t twenty-six, that was for damn sure, but it looked as if she might have ties to the Gods of Mayhem.A club that was supposed to be our ally. Except, they were allied with the Death Dogs if the marriage that Kronos orchestrated between Aspen and Pepper was any indication.
I might have joined this club because I was ordered to, but this was my family. These men were my brothers. I would fight beside them to the death.
And it just might come to that.
Chapter Fourteen
Mimic
“Wakey, wakey.”
The sound of his voice was like a spike piercing my brain. Dakota Stone was thirty-seven years old, but he talked like a teenage girl. He spoke in a higher pitch when he talked to me, almost as though he was talking to a toddler.
I wasn’t a fucking toddler; I was thirteen. If I were Jewish, I would have been considered a man. After what I had endured since he found me, I was a fucking man.
The keys rattled in his hand as he held them above his head before unlocking the cell.
“Let’s go. It’s time for some fun.” He wiggled his eyebrows at me as I stood from the cot I slept on. Dakota’s version of fun differed from mine. His idea of fun was torturing me.
When I didn’t move fast enough, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me in front of him. It seemed today’s torture was physical, instead of the normal mental and emotional torture he was so fond of.
Dakota led me to a room I hadn’t experienced before. This one had windows. My eyes winced at the bright sunlight that flooded the room.
“It’s training day. Gotta make a man out of you,” he whispered against my ear. I tried to control the shivers that racked my body. Dakota laughed when he felt me tremble. “Are you scared, kid? You fucking should be.”
He shoved me forward until I fell onto the mat floor. The small amount of cushioning when I hit the floor was unexpected. At least I would have a little padding when he beat the shit out of me.
“Come on, kid.” He held out his hands, palms up, and motioned for me to come forward by pulling his fingers back toward his wrists. “Come and get me. You know you want to.”
I did want to. I wanted to fucking pulverize him into the mat under his feet. I knew I had no hope of besting him, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t try. The sadistic gleam in his eye called out to something inside me. Something primal, something I hadn’t known was there, but was now rising within me.
I didn’t know my family, my mother’s or my father’s. All I knew was what Dakota had told me. I was a bastard. Like my father. And bastards were worthless.
But there was something. Something deep in my soul, something that told me he was wrong. That I was someone he feared. Someone George feared. They were trying to break me, but I was stronger than they were. I had something to live for. Someone.
Rosebud.
