Page 69 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

But he ignored her, keeping his glare pinned on me. “Dahlia, meet Onyx, apparently the new president of the Kings.”

“Slither—”

“Onyx,” he smirked, “meet Dahlia. My sister.”

Religion wasn’t my thing. Gods, angels, devils, and demons—I didn’t want to believe there were higher powers playing a game of chess with us as their pawns. But at that very second, I was sure the gods had pulled the universe right out from under me.

My heart was lodged in my throat, my skin clammy and cold even though it felt like the heat of Satan scorched my inside. “What?”

Slither grinned. “You heard me.”

“Oh, fuck.” Manic stilled next to me.

“What the fuck is he talking about?” I looked at Wraith.

Her silence, the way she just stood there staring back at me, I could have sworn I heard her scream the answer I didn’t want to hear. That Slither was telling the truth. It wasn’t a sick, twisted ploy to mindfuck me. It was the truth. It was right there on her face, her pale cheeks, and red lips.

I cleared my throat, trying to stop my heart from choking me so I could take a damn breath.

“You’re—” I choked on the words, swallowing hard. “You’re his sister?”

“Of course she is.” Slither pulled her closer, rubbing his cheek against hers. “Can’t you see the resemblance?”

I knew he was being a melodramatic fuck, milking this grave moment for all it was worth. But there actually was a resemblance, something I never would have noticed did he not push his goddamn face against hers.

“Wraith, is he your fucking brother?” I gritted, heart about to rip from my chest.

Without looking at me, she merely nodded, no trace of the confidence she always seemed to carry.

“No,” I breathed in disbelief as I stepped back. “No, no, no. This isn’t true.”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” Slither mocked.

While my heart turned into shards of glass tearing through my spine, it was impossible for me to form any kind of coherent thought. A sentence. A motherfucking word. My entire world just got shot to shit, and I didn’t know how the fuck I remained standing.

Crow turned to face Slither, and by the way Slither straightened, letting go of Wraith, I could only guess Crow was glaring at him. “So, let me get this straight. She’s your sister?”

Slither lifted an arm. “Am I speaking fucking Japanese? Yes, she’s my sister.”

I kept my attention on Wraith, her eyes red and cheeks wet. She was crying, but I was too busy clawing the knife out of my back to care.

Crow walked closer, arms hanging down his sides. “Earlier, you said she was one of your girls,” he stilled, “but that she was mine for tonight.”

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, pulling at the roots of my hair, my skull practically in fucking flames.

“Yeah,” Slither responded without hesitating.

Crow glanced toward me with a frown, then back to the Slither. “So, you’re telling me your sister is your clubwhore?”

“I’m not a clubwhore,” Wraith spat out.

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” Slither glared her way, and I was ready to smash his skull against the sidewalk.

He walked up to Crow, clearly picking up on a vibe from him. “How we do things is none of anyone’s business.”

Crow held up his hand, his entire demeanor turning hostile—even I could see it simply by looking at his back. “You brought your little sister here, to my club, with the intention of whoring her?”

“Motherfucker,” I cursed under my breath.

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