Page 83 of Deranged (American Street Kings 3)

“He almost did the same to you.”

I cringed at Neon’s words, grinding my teeth just thinking about what that sick bastard wanted to do to his own goddamn sister.

Wraith looked down, nervously picking at her fingernails. “I knew he was cruel, heartless.” She glanced at Neon. “But he’s my brother, and the only family I have left. I guess I didn’t want to see the monster he has become.” She inclined her head. “But now I know.”

Wraith chewed on her lip as her gaze drifted from Neon, to Granite, to me. She was weary, I could see it. Like prey trapped by a pack of hunters, unsure whether she would be spared or slaughtered.

Neon placed her crutches against the wall, hopping on one leg toward the chair. I knew better than to offer my help. She’d rather chew on wood than accept it.

“No one blames you for trusting your brother, Wraith. Everyone here knows how important family is.”

Wraith simply nodded, folding her hands in her lap.

“I can see you’re uncertain. You don’t know who to trust anymore, which is why you want to rush out of here.” Neon took a seat. “But let me tell you this. These men might look like mean motherfuckers, but behind those stone-cold expressions, filthy mouths, and muscle bags are teeny-tiny little unicorn hearts.”

Granite snorted, and even among all the drama and hurt, I had to crack a smile.

Wraith snickered, and I loved the sound. It was fucking beautiful, and it woke this urge inside me to go to her and wrap my arms around her tiny frame. To just hold her, and tell her everything was fucking fine, even if I didn’t know the whole truth yet.

Neon righted herself in the chair, grimacing a little. “Listen, pretty, Slither is one fucked up individual. I know he’s your brother and all, but that man,” Neon’s expression turned to pure hatred, “that man isn’t human. To say he’s a monster would be a fucking compliment to whatever the fuck he really is. But here’s the thing.” She leaned forward, and everyone could see how fucking serious she was. “When I look at you, I don’t see him. I don’t see the same evil in your eyes. He’s disgusting, vile, and absolutely revolting—an immoral fucker who probably won’t burn in hell one day, but rather rule alongside the fucking devil. But you,” she shook her head, “you ain’t the same. You ain’t him. And even though he’s your brother, something tells me there’s more to it.”

Heavy silence draped over all of us, the atmosphere in the room palpable as we all waited in anticipation for Wraith to tell the truth, to tell us why she did Slither’s bidding. I prayed to God it wasn’t merely simple sibling loyalty. To think she was his rat only because she wanted to be was insane. It was something I couldn’t comprehend since I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and there was nothing more disgraceful than a motherfucking rat.

Wraith cleared her throat, the bruise on her jaw growing more prominent by the minute, the blue and black colors a stark contrast against her pale white skin.

“Our mom, she was hooked on heroin.” Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “The only way she could afford her dirty habit was to…” she closed her eyes, her expression pained, and my chest ached for her, “…the only way they could get the money was to have some of our dad’s friends use us—” She choked on her tears.

“Jesus,” I cursed.

“How old were you?” Neon urged her to continue.

“Ten.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” I wanted to slam my fist into the wall, break fucking skin. It was too much. Ten years old? What the fuck?

Rage erupted, searing the inside of my veins. With my fists balled and my blood smothered with anger, I was on the verge of starting fucking Armageddon in this goddamn city.

Granite shot me a knowing look, a subtle way of telling me to keep my shit together—for Wraith’s sake. So, I bit my tongue and clenched my jaw. The last thing Wraith needed was to see me lose control.

“Did they rape him too? Slither?” Neon kept pushing for more, like she wanted Wraith to let it all out. Meanwhile, I was standing there feeling sick to my motherfucking stomach.

“Yes,” Wraith mumbled softly. “They hurt both of us.”

I scoffed. Somehow, the idea of Slither being hurt as well settled my rage a little. I knew he was young and innocent back then, but not even that reality was able to make me hate him less.

“For how long?” Neon asked.

Wraith pressed her lips together before answering, “Five years. It continued for five years.” Wraith blinked, her eyes red and moist as she looked in my direction. “Until he killed them.”

I straightened. “Who?”

“Slither…he killed our parents.”

That was when a puzzle piece slid into place. “At the beach, you said your brother took care of whoever it was that hurt you. You were talking about Slither killing your parents.”

She simply nodded, her shoulders slumped forward, tears falling from her cheeks and onto her lap. With the back of her hand, she wiped at her face. “Slither joined a biker crew, made some friends in pretty dark places. On the night of my fifteenth birthday, he brought some friends home, and it all ended.”

“He killed them?”

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