Page 47 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

I slipped into my jeans and pulled my shirt over my head. When I grabbed my boots, I looked over at the bedside table for my knife. Then I glanced at Onyx still sound asleep. It would be so easy for me to stab my blade through his chest right now without anyone knowing. He wouldn’t be able to fight back—if I was lucky, he would die without knowing it was me. In that moment, I was his biggest threat—the new president of the American Street Kings at his most vulnerable.

My heart felt heavy with the thought, the gravity of my guilt pulling it down to the soles of my feet.

Unshed tears stung the back of my eyes, and I knew I couldn’t stay any longer.

I inhaled deeply, loving his scent and hoping it was something I’d always remember. When I turned to leave, I caught sight of his knife on the table next to his keys. Just one thing. I just wanted one thing of his, so I took it, tucking it in the side of my boot.

I stole one more glance at him on the bed, the navy sheet draped over his big frame. When I walked into that bar and saw him sitting alone that very first night, I never could have anticipated how much my life would change.

“Goodbye, Onyx,” I whispered and sneaked out of his bedroom, gently closing the door behind me.

The lock clicked, and I leaned against the door, letting out a breath, and my heart aching.

“Early riser?”

I yelped, grabbed my chest, and spun around, staring right at Alyx and Neon. “Jesus. You scared the crap out of me.”

Neon smirked. “That happens when you get caught sneaking out like a cat who just stole a tin of tuna.”

“I’m not—” I rerouted my thoughts. “Hey, are you okay?”

Neon frowned in question, and I crossed my arms. “Last night, I couldn’t help but overhear what happened. That had to be some fucking nightmare.”

Her face turned a pale shade of pink, embarrassment spreading across her cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No. No. Don’t apologize.”

Neon smiled half-heartedly. “No one can create chaos in this clubhouse like I can.”

“They care about you.” The words just slipped out without me even thinking it. It was so obvious, even to a stranger like me, that everyone here cared about her—about each other.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, and Neon stared at me with confusion.

“For what?”

“I’m sorry someone hurt you.” The sympathy I felt for her was so strong, it clawed at my heart. It was like staring into a mirror, seeing my own reflection, witnessing my own anguish. Every tear she cried last night was a cruel reminder of how fucked-up this world really was. And I felt for her, without even truly knowing her.

She pinched her lips, prominent lines appearing between her eyebrows. “Yeah, well…shit happens.”

I smiled, recognizing the way she hid her pain behind snarky remarks. But her eyes said something completely different, and I saw it.

I rubbed my fingers across my forehead, diverting my eyes for a second before looking back her. “Just remember…the devil only wins the day you give up fighting.”

Her pale blue eyes softened, a sad smile appearing at the corners of her mouth. “Gotcha.”

Alyx cleared her throat, a subtle way to clear the heaviness. “Onyx still sleeping?”

“Um…yeah. I have this thing I need to get to, and I didn’t want to wake him.”

“Oh. You sure you don’t want some breakfast? Word around here is I make some mean pancakes.”

I pursed my lips, lowering my eyebrows.

“I know,” Neon remarked. “Her never-ending smile and ‘life is all rainbows and unicorns’ attitude gets on my nerves as well sometimes.”

Alyx chuckled. “Oh, my God. You are a horrible friend.”

“Wipe that fucking life-is-good smile off your face, then maybe I’ll be a better friend. Why can’t you just be miserable like the rest of us?”

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