Page 66 of Creep
I swear I feel my brain tumbling inside my skull as the dark world around me spins, about to suck me in for good, and my last conscious thought is the worry that Creep might think I’ve left him.
Creep. I only now realize Domino mocked his nickname. I’ve been using it so much it’s lost any connotation to its origin. I should know his name. His real name. He’s not a creep. He’s sweet, and loving, and I will die not even knowing his name. I swallow a sob and cover my head from another blow… but it doesn’t come.
Domino’s grip on my neck eases and I hear a familiar voice. Soft, and dark, a little louder than a whisper.
“You touch him one more time, and this blade goes between your ribs.”
Domino snarls, but I notice him stiffen as he pulls his hands away from me. “You gonna stab the road captain of the Hell’sButchers over some bullshit and put your friends’ lives on the line?”
Creep is standing behind him, so all I see beyond Domino’s massive forms is an arm. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, so you should be glad I’ve not gutted you yet.”
Domino chuckles darkly and turns around so I get to see the threatening patches on his back—two massive cleavers under a horned skull on fire. It makes me sick. I’m shaking.
“Oh, so that’s what it’s about? Is this some jealousy thing,Creep? You do know I’m all about pussy, right? The little shit stole my beer. I couldn’t just let that slide.”
Creep pushes the knife into the pocket of his jacket, so I think it’s over, but then he kicks Domino right in the shin, and the giant in front of me topples with a furious yelp.
Chapter 26
Creep
TheonlyreasonIput my knife away is because I’d fucking kill Domino otherwise. And while I want to smell his blood, he’s right that a war with the Hell’s Butchers is something I don’t want to risk.
But the bastard is full of shit. I know that because Angel doesn’t drink alcohol. Ever. Whatever’s happening here, Domino needs to learn some fucking respect. A little scuffle between clubs is pretty much expected at a rally like this, and I won’t be pulling punches.
I’m glad to see the shock on his smug fucking face when he falls. He has the audacity to try grabbing Angel for balance, but my boy backs away in time.
“What was it really, you fucking liar?” I snarl, and don’t wait for a second before slamming my boot down on his crotch.
The howl of pain brings a smile to my face, but he still has enough lucidity to grab my leg, and when he twists, the world whirrs around me until I slam into the dirt, protecting the side of my head at the very last moment. The grass smells of beer that must have been spilled here earlier, but when Domino’s towering form crawls up my body, I slam my elbow into his face.
A crack. Did I get the bastard’s nose? I don’t get to see, because he punches me in the stomach, and I tense my whole body to form a barrier of muscle and protect my organs.
“I’m going to break your legs, you fucking creep!”
The warning is a distraction, because his next punch is aimed at my face. I cover it with my arm, but the sheer force in Domino’s fist means a world of pain both in my arm and head. I’m dizzy, and I writhe like an eel under him, but the fucker is heavy. Still, I need him off me or he’ll pulverize me, so I slam my knuckles into his side in a series of ferocious punches.
“Help! Get your hands off him!” Angel yells, and next thing I see is his face behind Domino’s as he climbs the brute like a bloodthirsty gremlin. The slender arms wrap around Domino’s thick neck, and he pulls, showing so many teeth they gleam in the sparse light coming from beyond the narrow passage between trucks.
A low gurgle leaves Domino’s throat, and he uncovers his flank, reaching to the limbs around his neck. I jab at the vulnerable flesh, then punch Domino’s jaw from below, shutting his ugly muzzle with a sharpclack. He manages to toss Angel off him, and I see red when my boy rolls over the empty can lying in the grass.
“The fuck’s going on?” someone yells. Road’s voice? Blood pumps in my veins like oil set on fire. I can’t remember when I was last this filled with wrath.
I scramble from under Domino, grabbing the neckline of his T-shirt, and it rips.
“You’re gonna pay for this you fucking fag!” Domino yells as his punch manages to reach my ear, but I just laugh, because Road is in fact the one who arrived to deal with this clusterfuck first, and when homophobia rears its ugly head, he’s giddy to cut it off.
My ear is still ringing, so I don’t hear what Road is yelling, but he’s on Domino like a dog that’s found its favorite chew toy. Boot on chest, he has the bastard ready for butchering.
“I’m real fucking sensitive to that word, so if you throw it in my face, you might end up with no teeth.”
Prophet appears at the mouth of the passage, then more bodies pour in, crowding the space. Angel’s still prone on the ground, panting, and I reach for him when someone’s boot stomps uncomfortably close to his head. I pull him away in time, because a heartbeat later, an exchange of punches and kicks turns the narrow space into a war zone. My heart quivers when I see the red sheen of blood on his lips and chin, but then guys from both clubs are pouring in, some trading insults, others attempting to cool everyone’s tempers.
The big blue eyes focus on me in the dark, and Angel gently reaches to my face. “Oh no… your nose.”
I am aware of the pain in my face, but I’m disassociated from it in favor of making sure no one dares pull Angel into the mayhem.
“Just go back to our bonfire, baby,” I say and urge him back behind the line of our guys, but Prophet stops me.
