Page 70 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

Slither reached for Wraith’s hand, but she pulled away. I didn’t know why that eased me a little, but it did.

“This is business, Crow,” Slither stated.

“True. But she’s your sister, man. She’s fucking blood. And that’s one line we don’t cross here. We don’t fuck with blood.”

“That part, you got right. My blood. She’smyblood. And I’ll do with her what I want to.”

Confused and angry, I looked her way, my heart slowly bleeding out. “Is he making you do this? Is he forcing you to do this?”

Wraith didn’t move. She didn’t confirm or deny, and it was unsettling, to say the least.

“Wraith!” My voice sliced through the dark, and she yelped. “Answer me, goddammit. Is he fucking making you do this?”

She bit her lip, eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. “No,” she whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“No.” Her gaze cut to mine. “He’s not forcing me to do anything.”

My knees were no longer strong enough to keep me upright, so I crouched, hand in my hair. “Jesus Christ. This is not happening.” I straightened. “This is not fucking happening!” I yelled, and I wanted to break and kill something. I wanted to feel bone crack in my palms, see blood flow over my hands and stick to my nails.

“Oh, poor lover boy,” Slither mocked. “I hope you at least got a good fuck out of this, since the only reason she even looked your way was because I told her to.”

And here I thought the knife couldn’t twist any deeper into my back. “Wraith, tell me this isn’t what I think this is.” I gritted my teeth.

Again, she only stood there, pale as a ghost.

I frowned with disbelief. “So, I was just a target? You used me, to what? Get some inside information for your brother, here?”

“Ding, ding, ding.” Slither laughed. “Seems like you’re not as stupid as I thought you were.”

“I’m sorry,” Wraith muttered, tears lapping against her lips.

“Oh, God,” I breathed. “Today at the beach, when you talked about your past, and your brother, you were talking about…him?”

Tears kept streaming down her face, red blotches covering her face.

I grimaced. “Was any of it actually true, or was it all just a bunch of bullshit you fed me?”

“No. I told you the truth today.” Her bottom lip trembled, her jaw ticking as she tried to suppress the tears—tears that meant nothing to me. Tears that were unable to crack through the concrete wall of betrayal.

I retreated, the sight of her making my stomach twist inside out. “You’re a fucking liar. A fake.” That goddamn knife in my back jabbed all the way through my motherfucking heart.

Slither rolled his eyes. “Cut the drama, would you? You’re gonna give me an aneurysm.”

“Yo, shut the fuck up,” Manic said from behind me, and my instincts instantly flared up like the motherfucking Fourth of July. Slither reached for his gun, and so did the rest of his crew.

I had mine aimed and ready by my next breath, but Crow’s voice erupted through the chaos. “The first person who pulls a motherfucking trigger here on my street will choke on his own fucking blood, I swear to Christ!” His glare moved from me to Slither as he pointed at his crew standing behind him. “Both of you are heavily outnumbered here, so don’t fuck with me on my turf, or neither of you will see daylight again.”

Slither’s top lip lifted with a snarl, and I could see the bloodlust in his eyes. He wanted me dead almost as much as I wanted to bury him. But right now, the stench of betrayal was far stronger than the hunt for blood.

Bold, brave, and hurt like hell, I walked up to her, not giving two flying fucks that Slither was standing right next to her with a loaded gun in his hand. All I cared about was hearing the truth from her lips. “So, all this time, you were being the Python clubwhore who spread her legs to impress big brother, here.” Her expression was pained, like I had just slapper her in the face, but I didn’t give a fuck, my insides slowly being torn to shreds.

I stepped closer, so close I could smell her perfume. Perfume she didn’t wear for me. Not tonight.

She looked at me, black mascara smudges sticking to the skin around her eyes. If deceit and lies didn’t cling to my soul like dirt, I might have mistaken her despondent look for regret. Remorse. Maybe even a broken heart.

I bit my lip, and I no longer saw the beautiful woman who tempted me with her full lips, sharp tongue, and curvy body. I no longer saw the woman I would move heaven and hell for, give her my world just to keep her in my bed, keep her close to me. She was no longer the woman whose touch thrilled me, whose kisses seduced me.

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