Page 18 of Rebels & Rejects

I settle on the seat beside him, looking down into the swimming pool as two new fighters drop into it and another round begins to the chorus of hoots and hollers.

We both watch the fight for a bit before he speaks. “Satan’s territory looks promising. Small-scale gang; not very organized and cocky.”

I nod my head. “And the docks?”

“They would definitely work. There’s a nightclub in one of the buildings that attracts a good crowd on the weekends.” One side of his lip quirks up in a mysterious smirk before he continues, “We already know it’s drawing people in so it shouldn’t be too hard to add regular fight evenings to the schedule.”

We lapse into silence as the fight gets underway, a young blond man who’s all attitude and mediocre muscle, is up against a middle-aged brute of a fighter. The two of them circle one another for several moments, the young guy losing patience first as he goes in for an uppercut that snaps his opponent’s head back.

Blood gushes from the older fighter’s nose and drips onto the already stained swimming pool tiles at their feet. Unperturbed, he spits blood into his opponent's face, going straight in for a round of powerful jabs to his chest and abdomen. The two fighters get more and more aggressive, the young one becoming increasingly desperate as he resorts to trying to gouge his opponents eyes out and rip his ear off with his teeth every time the guy gets too close to him.

“How have things been here?” Oliver asks as the young blond fighter is taken to the ground, his body slamming against the bottom of the pool with a painful sort of thud.

“Our shipments were light again,” I inform him, my jaw ticking in irritation. It’s been an issue for the last few weeks, and I’ve a fair idea who’s behind it. The Grim Bastards have been a pain in my backside since I took control of the firearm distribution chains in and around Black Creek, and I’m pretty sure they’ve been stealing from me for the last few months. Somehow they’ve been gaining access to my shipments before I’ve been notified of their arrival and can send men to pick them up.

The Grim Bastards are my only other real competition for control of Black Creek—other than the Antonellis, but they’re a whole different ball game. Between the three of us, we essentially rule the city. The Antonellis have a monopoly on all things gambling and sex. They run a prosperous casino down at the Tideside Docks, as well as multiple high-end sex clubs. When the Beasts left Black Creek, the Grim Bastards took control of their drug distribution channels, while I already had the necessary connections that made it easy to negotiate deals with those who operate the arms trade on the West coast.

Since I started running the arms trade in Black Creek, I’ve been working to reduce the number of firearms on the streets. Honestly, I don’t trust anyone other than us to sell them. I’ve made it crystal fucking clear to my men who they can and cannot sell to. Namely kids, but I get my men to use some common sense when they’re trading, and not just look at the green that’s being handed over. I can’t say the same happens in the other gangs that buy the guns off us, so I’ve been restricting how much they can purchase, and slowly reducing that figure.

Of course, I’m not stupid enough to think I can rid Black Creek of all guns. Not only would that put me out of business, but it would be fucking impossible. Nor do I think for one second it would make a difference. If I didn’t provide them, someone else would, or they’d just be replaced by equally destructive weapons. I’m just trying to policetheir distribution.

However, the Grim Bastards are a problem I’m going to have to deal with. Soon. I can’t let that sort of disrespect stand. The difficulty is, part of me doesn’t give a shit. I didn’t get into this business to contend with rival gangs, argue over borders or dispute the consignment of firearms. No, I’m in this game for exactly one thing—revenge. Vengeance. Retribution. Whatever you want to call it. It’s a hatred I’ve been harboring for eleven years now, and with every passing day, it burns brighter, scorching my soul and turning it to ash.

“I’ll get some men on it.”

Oliver has fallen into his role as my second in command with surprising ease. Sure, having been a member of the Feral Beasts for years, he more than understands the hierarchy and what the role requires, but I know he has been confused and feeling a little lost since his release. Like me, he’s only in this for revenge. To correct past mistakes and make up for what we couldn’t prevent when we were barely more than children ourselves.

When this is all behind us, I imagine he’ll move on and find a life for himself far from Black Creek. Like Beck did. He was one of the lucky ones who actually made it out of this cesspit alive. Got himself a good job and a nice girl to love. He even got himself three other guys with whom he’s supposed to share her. Don’t ask me how that shit works. I couldn’t imagine sharing a girl with anyone for anything more than one night. Even then, I can be a possessive bastard. I like a girl’s attention to be solely focused on me when we’re fucking. Nothing wrong with that.

I give a sharp nod of my head, knowing he’ll get the job done. It’s not my main priority right now, though. Neither is taking over Satan’s territory—although that is important. No, my main focus has been on finding a way into the Antonelli empire. Their part of the city is separated from the rest of us by a winding river that opens up into the docks and is the namesake of our city of criminals—Black Creek. They’ve set up their own little kingdom over there, controlling everything that comes in and out of the docks and running high-end, high-stakes gambling nights, where the buy-in costs more than most Black Creek residents earn in a year.

The Antonellis wronged my family a long time ago. They forever changed the course of my life when they attacked our house and took my sister. On that fateful day, they stole the other half of my soul. Where I am cloaked in darkness, my sister was all radiant glow. She was the bright spark in my life, the one thing that kept me grounded, that prevented me from stumbling across that moral line and falling into devilry. In the absence of her light, I’ve succumbed to the darkness, bathed in immorality, and painted myself in blood.

Back then, Reaper Rejects only had four members. Four kids who thought they wanted nothing more than to grow up but were blind to the harsh realities of life. We thought we knew it all, thought we were invincible when we were actually ignorant to the horrors of this world.

Now, we are a hundred men strong, and every single one of us is ready for war. We’re willing to fight for our cause, to die for what’s right. I will sacrifice whatever is necessary to avenge my sister, to destroy the men who stole her, and obliterate the dynasty that has been the source of all my pain.

As if he can sense the hostile anger pouring off me, Oliver glances my way, watching me closely for a moment as if he thinks I’m about to storm out of here and head straight for the Antonellis before a cry from the pit has him focusing on the fight once again.

My hand is squeezing the whiskey glass in a death grip as a deafening roar goes up from the crowd, signaling the end of the fight, and the muscles in the back of my jaw are so tense that I have to work to relax them before taking a sip of my drink. I’ve been on this path of revenge for a long time now, but the closer we get, the more impatient I become. Now that we have sufficient manpower, I’m ready for us to take our next steps, but unfortunately, we can’t go storming into the Antonellis’ district just yet. We need to be smart about how we attack them. I might have plenty of men at my back, ready and willing to fight this fight with me, but the Antonellis will have many more people than us.

The Don—Giovanni Antonelli—is my main target, but between his right-hand man/bodyguard and son, not to mention the numerous underlings he has working for him, he won’t be an easy man to get my hands on. Besides, killing him isn’t enough. His son, or someone else, will simply take his place, and the cycle will continue all over again. Every single one of them are vermin infecting this city. Theyallneed to be eradicated.

With the fight over, and a lull while people top up their drinks before the next one begins, Oliver turns his attention my way. His own features are tight as he asks, “Any update?”

I know he’s as impatient as I am to move forward. Nothing is worse than all this sitting and waiting.

“Nothing new.”

His shoulders drop at my news, but it’s nothing either of us didn’t expect. The men I planted within the Antonelli organization several months ago are still too new to have made any significant progress yet, and unfortunately, any information they have been able to relay back to me hasn’t been all that useful.

I wish there were another way in, an alternative plan we could be working on in the meantime, but I don’t know what. The Antonelli empire is like an impenetrable fortress. We can easily get into their part of the city, and with the right clothes and enough money, into their casino and clubs, but then what? It’s not like Giovanni himself hangs out on the casino floor all day, and even if he did, the second I would make a move toward him, I’d be gunned down before I could do him any harm.

But they have to have a weak spot, some way that I can get close to them. Everyone does. No stronghold is entirely impregnable. If I look long and hard enough, I’m sure I can find a crack somewhere, a chink in their armor, their Achilles heel. All it takes is patience and perseverance, and while mine may be running thin, I’m nowhere close to giving up.

A roar goes up from the raucous crowd below, pulling me out of my thoughts as another fight comes to an end. Damn, I was so deep in my thoughts I hadn’t even realized another one had begun.

The heavy bass of the music has been turned up, and I can feel the tiled wall behind me vibrating. A server wearing only a bra and booty shorts climbs up the stairs, swaying her hips with each step in the sky-high heels she has on that make her toned legs look like they’re a mile long as she carries a tray with two new drinks on it. Without saying a word, she places them on the glass table between our seats, giving me a coy smile before she moves away. Her ass shakes from side to side, my eyes glued to the round globes as she disappears down the stairs again.

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