Page 67 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

I hung up, eyes still glued on the scene in front of me. Crow got off his hog, and I was focused on Slither walking toward him when something caught my eye. The woman in red, her arm was covered in a sleeve tattoo, and something seemed oddly familiar about her.

I grabbed my phone and zoomed in on the woman—more specifically, her tattooed arm. I snapped the picture and leaned back, studying the image.

“What you got?” Manic leaned over.

“The girl,” I zoomed in on the picture I took, “she seems familiar to you?”

Manic stared at the image. “Nah. But she’s fit as fuck, though.”

There was something about her. I couldn’t place it. I looked back out the window, holding the phone to take more pictures when she flipped her hair over her shoulder…and time just fucking stopped.

“Wraith.”

“What?” Manic scooted over to get a better look.

“It’s Wraith.”

“No way.”

“Jesus.” Without thinking twice, I jumped out of the van and darted across the street.

“Yo, Onyx. What the fuck, man?” Manic followed. “Get back in the fucking van. Jesus Christ.”

I couldn’t. I couldn’t get back in the van because that woman in the red dress was my fucking woman. How the fuck did Slither get to her?

“Onyx, man. What the fuck are you doing?”

I started rushing. “I’m not about to let him hurt another one of our girls.”

“Stop, okay? Let’s call Granite and Dutch first before we rush over there and get our asses handed to us.”

I reached behind my back, pulling out my gun. This motherfucker was going down tonight, and I didn’t give a shit whether the entire Sixes crew was here. The closer I got, the clearer I saw her face. It was her, but she looked different. Her hair was different, her make-up was different. And the fact that she was wearing a mini dress and heels made no fucking sense. Where were her jeans? Her boots? Her motherfucking bad-ass expression? The sleeve tattoo on her arm was about the only thing I recognized about her.

“Onyx, stop! Jesus,” I heard Manic curse behind me, “I always knew a motherfucking woman would get him killed one day.”

There was a soft little voice inside my head urging me to retreat, to step back and stay in the shadows. The president of the American Street Kings knew it was foolish to go into the snake pit without backup, without a fucking plan. But the man in me, the man who marked that woman standing there, made her his, that man was ready to pull a Juggernaut on all their motherfucking asses, wrecking through them in order to get her as far away from Slither as possible.

My feet hit pavement, and I felt the adrenaline burst through my insides. “Wraith.”

She turned. “Onyx?”

I aimed my gun right at Slither, who stood closely next to her. “Step away from her, man.”

“Onyx, stop.” She tried to step in between Slither and me, but I moved to the side, gun aimed, rage loaded, and finger ready to pull the motherfucking trigger.

“You die tonight, you sick bastard.”

Slither started cackling like a maniac, and I’d never seen his expression filled with so much amusement before.

“Onyx.” Wraith jumped in front of me.

I gave her a quick once-over. “Did he hurt you? Did this fucker hurt you?”

“No, he didn’t hurt me.”

“He’s still fucking dying.” I straightened my arm, finger on the trigger. It was all happening so fast, not even Crow and his crew had a chance to intervene.

“Onyx. Stop!” Wraith’s voice cracked through the night, drowning out all the noise. When I looked at her, I could see her complexion had paled and the shock that shackled her blue irises. Something wasn’t right, here. I could feel it in my gut. From the corner of my eye, I saw Crow cross his arms while Slither stepped closer to Wraith.

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