Page 35 of Dragon Strife
Cash has been watching the Hell’s March compound for me since the week after Genni was taken, and this is the first time she’s been back there.
“I’ll call Bear and find out what’s going on,” I tell him as I grab my phone from my pocket.
“Nah,” he interjects. “No need. I tried calling him, but he’s not answering. I could hit up Malik?”
“He helped her set our shit on fire,” I snarl, making him flinch.
“You know how he is. He has no loyalty. We’ll give him a price and he’ll do as we ask.” Cash digs his phone out of his cut and unlocks it, waiting for me to give him the go-ahead.
“Fine,” I groan. I had Cash watching the men in my club for a while and he knows who I can and can’t trust. Malik was doing the same for Barrett and I would assume still is.
“I’ll text him instead. If he’s still inside, I don’t want him to have to explain his phone ringing.” Cash’s fingers slowly move over the screen, his age showing in the way he has to search for each letter. I swallow down the need to snatch his phone and do it myself. Patience is something I’m trying to master. “Okay, there. Sent.” He gives me a wide smile and turns for the door. “I’ll let you know what he says. I’m heading back over to see if they’ve left.”
“Thank you, Cash.” I mean it. Without him, I would be fucking struggling. It feels like he’s the only one I can trust these days.
“No problem, son.” He nods and leaves, the endearment once again making my throat swell. I miss my father.
The list of people I’ve lost in the last few months have only increased and it saddens me when I think my best friend is among them. Quinton has been drinking himself into oblivion, and even though I hate to see it, I don’t have the capacity to help him. I’m too busy stuck drowning in my own shit.
The new President’s patch sits nicely over the Dragon Slayer one and I can’t stop running my finger over its worn surface. It’s not the club I was meant to have, but it’s the position.
“I can’t believe my brother had the balls to take your sister,” Malik says as he puts away the things he needed to sew my new badge on. “At least you can rest assured he won’t hurt her. I’m certain his dick only works for men.”
“That’s not true.” I give him a sly look. “I’m pretty sure it worked for me.” Malik growls in my direction as I look over to Diego who’s pacing a path into the already-worn hardwood. “But I do agree that he won’t hurt her. Still, we need to move fast.”
Blood is still dotted on the table and chairs, and two large pools are staining the floor as we speak. I asked Cory to get rid of the bodies but to spike their heads on posts for a week at the front gates. It’s unorthodox for an MC club to be that cruel, but that’s how I will be dealing with traitors.
Currently, it’s just the three of us in here, trying to come up with a plan that will get Delia back but keep me safe at the same time. I know there’s no alternative but for me to offer myself as a hostage exchange. I’m trying to convince them that I can handle myself and that I can deal with Laith. He’s always had a soft spot for me and I know he’s appealing to his savior complex by trying to save me.
“Did he say anything yesterday that would make you think he was going to kidnap my sister?” Diego asks again for the fifteenth time.
“No, but he was adamant about me going home,” I answer again.
Malik’s phone pings twice in quick succession and when he opens up his messages, his brows come together. “What is it?” I ask as his fingers move over the screen.
“They’re back with Delia’s car, it was where the app said it would be.” He stands from his seat. “I’m going to go check it out and see what I can find.”
“I’m going to get Jones to hack into the bakery’s camera system. I want to know what direction they went in with Delia,” Diego says as he quickly opens the door and walks out. The music is blaring from the main room as the brothers celebrate the end of a terrorist rule.
“When I get my hands on your brother,” I tell Malik as we watch Diego leave. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”
“No, you won’t,” he snaps as he gives me a look. “You have some sort of past with him.”
“Malik Charles,” I singsong. “Are you jealous?”
“Just tell me I’m the prettier one and I’ll get over it.” He pushes up from his chair and tucks his phone back in his pocket as he stares at the door, avoiding my eyes.
“You two are identical—”
“Slayer,” he growls in warning.
“So much prettier.” I nod with a smirk as I get out of my chair to follow him.
The music is at an octave that I can feel each beat deep inside my chest, making me miss my old family. The sounds of the music and the brothers’ laughing combined with the smell of weed and cigarettes nearly brings me to my knees with grief. It feels as though the whole club died the day my brother put a bullet in my father’s head.
“Wait.” Malik holds out his arm, stopping me from walking into the main room. We stay standing in the shadows of the corridor, and I follow his eyesight to find two very familiar faces.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snarl, my body tightening with the need to fight.
