Page 11 of F*ck Steal Kill

Leaning back against the wall, my face became distorted in the reflective surface across from me. Something was different about my face, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

The door opened, dispelling my contorted face, and I brushed off the weirdness of the encounter. Within a few feet, I was at the door of our suite, pulling my key out of my back pocket. The card slid in smoothly, beeping as the door unlocked. The door stopped an inch open, and I smiled, glad Max had followed protocol.

His feet pattered toward the door a moment later, and the door fell closed as he disengaged the locks from the other side. When he opened the door, I slid in and immediately grabbed him by the throat and shoved him up against the wall. He let out a slight whimper, his eyes wide as he stared at me.

“What did you do wrong?” I growled, stepping closer into his space and pressing our bodies flat together. Max licked his lips as he tried to think. I flexed my hand around his throat, his pupils dilating at the pressure.

“I didn’t check it was you,” he gasped, and I released some of the pressure.

“One of these days, you’re not going to check, and someone’s going to shoot you in your trusting face. Is that what you want?”

My breathing was heavy as I pictured stepping into a room with Max on the ground, a pool of blood around him. I squeezed my eyes closed at the image.

“No-o-o,” he stuttered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Q. I’ll do better,” he wheezed, his boy vibrating against mine.

Letting go of his throat, I stomped away, needing some space between us before I crossed a line. Slamming the door to the bathroom, I leaned against the counter as I tried to regulate my breathing.

It was too late, though, and a panic attack seized me as flashbacks pounded my brain, not letting me forget what happened to people I cared about.

Blood coated the floor, and my feet slipped on it as I raced through the house, calling out for my mother. A man stood over her prone body, a blood-slicked knife in his hand. A hood covered his face, casting it into shadow. I froze, my steps faltering as I took in the scene.

My lip began to tremble as I realized my mother was dead.

The hooded figure stood slowly, keeping me in his sight. Backing away, he retreated, not dropping my eyes until he came to the door.

The whole time I’d been frozen in his trance, watching… waiting… The moment he turned, the spell was broken, and I raced to my mother’s body. She was still warm, blood sputtering out of her mouth. Gripping her hand, I cried, begging her to stay with me.

“Mommy, don’t go. Mommy, no. Mommy, I need you.”

Her hand squeezed mine slightly, my eyes jumping to hers. I leaned forward, praying she’d tell me what to do. Instead, she whispered her last words, the name of the family responsible.

The name that haunted my dreams and life still to this day.

The Savages.

The most ruthless, cutthroat mercenary family of my generation.

And they’d killed my mother.

I didn’t know much as an eight-year-old child, but I knew I wouldn’t stop until I avenged her death. It was the defining moment in my life that I held onto with everything I had. It both terrified and spurred me onward toward my goal.

It was why I didn’t get close to people, knowing what the future held for me—nothing but blood.

The guys understood the score, both on this team for their own reasons with the Savages. But it hadn’t stopped me from caring about them, and occasionally, my need to protect them would be triggered, sending me into a tailspin.

But especially Max, my brain whispered.

Ripping off my clothes, I staggered into the open shower, turning on the water and not caring what temperature it was. I needed to shock my system and regain my composure.

The cold water beat down on my skin, stinging me as it ran over my corded muscles. The scars I’d earned from years of training and combat seemed to rise, reminding me of who I was.

I wasn’t that timid little boy, too frozen in his fear to stop the man from murdering his mother. No, I was a lethal weapon sent out to destroy those who considered themselves above the law.

I’d become the nightmare.

Shivering, I regained my footing in the present, sucking in a large gulp of air. Water ran over every inch of me, washing away the last remains of my panic and fear.

I couldn’t allow myself to feel those emotions anymore. They were a weakness I wouldn’t accept.

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