Page 29 of Destroyed (American Street Kings 4)

After lighting my cigarette, Manic walked up and grabbed it from my hand. “I think I need this more than you do.”

“Asshole.”

After taking a couple of long drags, Manic leaned against the wall.

I glanced his way. “You followed me?”

“Yup.” Smoke slowly escaped his mouth as his lips parted.

“Why?”

“You were just too cool, man. After Crow basically told us we’d have shit on our front porch if we got hold of Slither and didn’t hand him over to the Sixes, you were just too fucking cool about it. And with you disappearing at nights, I knew something was up, so I followed you.”

Slither’s head lolled from side to side, eyes fluttering open every now and then.

I licked my lips. “You going to tell the others?”

I heard him inhale before flicking the cigarette to the ground, stomping on it. “If you asked me this yesterday, I’d say yes without hesitating.”

“But?”

“But…after what went down today,” he looked at me, “I know how much you need to do this. I know that if you don’t fuck him up, you’ll never be able to move on.” He turned back to staring at Slither. “It’s fucked up and all kinds of wrong. But I get it. You love her.”

I raised a brow. “So…”

“So, I won’t tell anyone.”

I breathed out a sigh of relief, like water flowing over dry land.

“But you will.”

My heart stopped. “What?”

Manic straightened, turning to face me. “Neon needs to know.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No way. She’s not ready.”

He stepped right up to me, and there was no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. “We’re all hurt over what this asshole did to her. We all need some sort of revenge for what happened. But Neon is the one who deserves it. She’s the one who deserves the satisfaction of driving a stake through this fucker’s heart. Not you. Not Onyx. Not Crow. Neon.” He pointed toward Slither, his jaw clenched and his eyes set. “She needs to watch him pay for what he’s done. She needs to be the one who ends him. Don’t you dare take that away from her.”

For a moment, it seemed like he was no longer talking about Neon, but someone else, and I was certain I saw pain flash across his blue-green irises. Even the large scar on his face seemed to ache. The thick mark that marred his face became more prominent with every passing second.

“Promise me, Ink.”

“She’s not ready. She’s not strong enough for this.”

“Do not underestimate her. Nothing is as strong as one’s need for revenge.”

“She needs more time.”

“No. She doesn’t. That whole thing about time heals everything is bullshit. The only way she’ll get over it is if you throw her in the deep end and force her to deal with it, because if she doesn’t, her mind just keeps on wandering in that dark place. The longer she stays there, that harder it will be to escape it.”

“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

“You bet your ass I am.” The hard lines on his face spoke volumes. For a man who never seemed to take anything seriously, he sure as fuck seemed serious right now.

I studied him for a few seconds, wondering what kind of ghosts lurked in his past. That scar on his face was hiding a lot of secrets, one of which he accidentally spilled after he got drunk off his ass. Since I was drunk too, I didn’t remember much of our conversation, but I remembered two words coming out of his mouth that night. Self-inflicted.

With a slight nod, I agreed. “I’ll tell her.”

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