Page 37 of Destroyed (American Street Kings 4)

He lifted a dark brow. “Want to go get a drink?”

“God, yes. I thought you’d never ask.”

Taking a step back, he held out his hand. It was more than an invitation for me to place my hand in his, it was him asking me to walk out of this room with him…together. It was a request to make whatever this was between us official so everyone would know who I belonged to. Him.

I licked my lips, my heart beating so fast with just a sliver of excitement bubbling in my gut. It was probably the closest I’d ever come to having the metaphorical butterflies every soppy love story talked about. The ones that made the heroine do stupid shit, all in the name of love.

Slow and hesitant, I reached out, my hand hovering above his, every second stretching for an eternity. A war raged between the beat of my heart and the screams of monsters in my head. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, willing my heart to win the battle—and the second my palm touched his, it did. My heart won, and the monsters had to retreat. I just prayed they stayed away…for good.

14

Ink

I didn’t carewhat anyone else thought or said. All I cared about was holding this woman’s hand and never letting go. Something shifted between us. The open disclosure of our pasts, the stories behind our scars, connected us on some deeper level. Something I knew in my heart wouldn’t be broken easily.

I wasn’t a fool. I knew our road together would be no fucking walk in the park. But I was determined, and I would walk through hell with a flashing fuck-you sign on my forehead if it meant we’d find just a sliver of happiness on the other side.

Tightening my hold on her hand, I glanced down at her, loving the fact that she was walking beside me. That was where she belonged, next to me…with me.

“Yo, Ink.” Manic came rushing around the corner. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, man.”

“What’s up?”

Manic glanced at Neon. Either he didn’t see we were holding hands, or just didn’t feel the need to crack a joke about it.

Neon let go of my hand, and in my mind I dropped an entire vocabulary of fucks, fucking, fuckers and fuck-this-shits.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” She smiled before walking off down the hall.

I glared at Manic. “I hope someone is dying. If not, I’ll have to kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.” The challenge clung to the arrogant smirk on his face. “But seriously, though. We have trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Crow. He suspects we know where Slither is.”

I crossed my arms. “How?”

“I dunno how. All I know is the Sixes are watching us like hawks.”

“How do you know this?”

He backtracked a little, and for a fleeting moment I saw a strange look in his eyes. “I just know.”

“How the fuck do you know, Manic?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at the ground, looking guilty as sin.

“Manic, what the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Manic,” I growled, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his back against the wall. “What. The fuck. Is going. On?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying. I saw that look between you and Crow the other day.”

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