Page 77 of Depraved (American Street Kings 1)

“Whoops.” Slither laughed. “There goes another finger. Guess now we’re down to eight.”

“Mother—”

“An hour, Granite. You have a fucking hour.”

He hung up, the screen nothing but black. I couldn’t stop staring at it, my mind unable to process what the fuck I just saw.

Ink cursed then screamed as if he had the hounds of hell mauling him, tearing the flesh from his bones. Glass shattered, steel clattered, and Ink’s cries ripped through his chest like a thousand demons, the echo of pain resounding from his roars. Slither was torturing Neon, killing her slowly, and there was nothing we could do about it. The one woman my father asked me to protect, and I couldn’t do it.

I was just about to crush the phone into pieces when a message alert chimed. My heart sank to the soles of my feet, and dread churned in the pit of my stomach. That message chime was like the fucking church bells before a funeral—foreboding and ominous.

I stopped breathing when I waited for the message to open. And when it did, my fear was confirmed.

“Jesus Christ.”

“What is it?” Ink grabbed the phone from my hand. I didn’t want him to see it, but my reflexes were delayed as shock still zapped through my system.

Neon wasn’t hanging upside down anymore. Still bound by her ankles, her upper body had been hoisted up, a giant hook pierced through the skin of her back. Her face…oh God, her face. It was…it was horrifying.

Ink stumbled back as he looked at the picture, falling flat on his ass. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring and eyes protruding as anger started to set in.

“Jesus Christ. Neon,” he muttered, her name nothing but a soft sound from his lips.

I watched as the phone slipped from his grasp, the veins in his arms bulging, and tears slipping down his face. I’d known the man for years, but I had never seen him shed a tear. It was one of the most heartbreaking things I ever had to see. The strong, big-mouthed man-whore tearing apart at the seams.

Dear God, this was not part of the plan. This was not how shit was supposed to go down. We were losing control over this war, and it had hardly fucking begun.

“We have to take Alyx home,” Ink gritted between clenched teeth.

I sat on a crate in the corner. “You know we can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

My eyes met his, and I knew he knew why we couldn’t let Alyx go. It was no more an option than getting Neon back was a guarantee.

My throat felt like a desert as I tried to swallow. Words escaped me, my lungs numb and unable to expand.

“Motherfucker!” Ink lost his shit, jumped up, and with one violent sweep, he knocked every tool that was on the table next to him to the ground. “What the fuck? She has nothing to do with this, man. How…why the fuck did he—Jesus, Granite. What the fuck do we do now?”

Weaving my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots, I tried to focus, as I couldn’t fucking think straight. “He made it clear, man. If we don’t take Alyx back home within the hour and publicly take responsibility for her kidnapping…he kills Neon.”

“No!” Both Ink and I turned and looked at Alyx standing next to Dutch, eyes wide and face white. “What is going on?”

“Jesus. Dutch, get her out of here!” I yelled.

“No!” She yanked away from him and stormed toward me. “Where is Neon?”

“Dutch!” I called out, needing her gone. She couldn’t be here. Not now.

“Granite!” she yelled with fire in her eyes. “Tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Don’t, Alyx. This does not concern you.”

“Does not concern me? I heard you say if you don’t take me home, someone is going to kill Neon. What the fuck is going on?” Uncertainty, fear, and determination turned her intensely blue eyes almost colorless. This had turned into such a huge shit-show, there was no use in denying anything, or trying to cover up shit.

“Tell me,” she pleaded, and I knew I was in a corner. With Ink quickly losing his mind, and Dutch staring at me like I was keeping the cure to cancer all for myself, I had no way out of this.

“The Pythons. They have Neon.” The words sliced up my throat.

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