9. Theo
NINE
THEO
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS OLD
Theo pulled back on the throttle of his bike. The powerful engine grumbled and growled, a roar in the vapid, desolate night, the heavy metal vibrating through him as he tore down the street.
A street that was seedy as fuck.
Filled with corruption and depravity.
Half of it meted by his own dirty, tainted hands.
He’d been partner to it for so long that he no longer recognized anything else. Had been this way since he’d found himself homeless at fifteen. A bus had dumped him in the middle of LA after he’d run from the place that could no longer be considered a home.
A scoff ripped from his throat at the memory.
Home.
That was something it had never been.
His parents had hated him since the day he was born, a sentiment he’d easily returned, and it had been only a matter of time before he split.
He wasn’t exactly sure how he’d found one here. The family that had been built with his brothers during the time when the only thing they could do was survive.
Nah.
Otto, Cash, Kane, and River weren’t blood.
They were better than that.
Their loyalty was scored on their souls.
It had only grown deeper since they’d been running with the Iron Owls. All five of them fitting in with the perversion like they’d been made for it.
Powerful and feared.
No one brave enough to touch them.
No one to abuse or torture or neglect them the way most of them had been when they were kids.
They’d risen above it.
Gave themselves over to brutality, because they all knew what it was like to be weak.
They wouldn’t allow themselves to be that again.
Bent and broken to another’s will.
And that power rolled from him as he wound in and out of cars as he traveled through the city.
Wearing his leather cut with the Iron Owls emblem emblazoned on the back.
The vicious owl with its wings outstretched and in full flight.
A skull hanging from its claws.
Warning every motherfucker what would happen to them if they even considered crossing them.
The engine chugged as he slowed and made a right, driving deeper into the sordid. To that squalid place where you could taste the wickedness oozing from the decrepit buildings.
At least he and his boys had gotten out of this area.
Bought a house thirty minutes away that was safe for Raven. The one they protected with every fiber of their beings.
Didn’t matter if they’d moved themselves out of it, though. It would always be a piece of who they were. Each of them cut from the fabric of immorality. Sewn into the mold.
Night rained down. A cloth of iniquity that bound around him like chains, and he slowed even further as he cut across the road and took to the barely visible alley that ran the back side of a metal building.
An old fabrication shop.
A building they used for exchanges and drops.
Theo fought against the ball of guilt that threatened to roll up his throat.
This was the part he hated. The part that contributed to poverty and pain and shredded, broken families.
The part that preyed on the vulnerable and susceptible.
He tried to tell himself that none of them were innocent. They made the choice for themselves. But not even he was a big enough liar to convince himself of it.
Doing his best to squash his shame with the heel of his boot, but never quite managing to stub it out.
But this was who he was, so he eased his bike up to the back of the building and stopped near the door.
He killed the engine, the roar cutting off and giving way to the quiet shout of the city.
The drone of traffic and the cry of faraway voices and the unmistakable sound of gunshots in the distance.
His attention scanned the desolate, dimly lit area as he strode for the door. He always watched his back, not fool enough to get complacent. He swung open the door to the dingy light inside the building.
Three Owls were inside waiting.
Dom, Toga, and Flea.
Unease rustled through Theo.
That loyalty he was speaking of? It didn’t extend to all the Iron Owls. Only his brothers and a few other guys, their vice president, Trent Lawson, and his brother, Jud.
He knew most of these assholes would be happy to stab him in the back the first chance they got.
“What’s up, brother?” Toga lifted his chin at Theo.
They called him Toga since he was a frat, pretty boy type, though he clearly had a thirst for the dark side.
Theo returned the gesture, though he didn’t take time for pleasantries. “Transaction complete?”
Trent sent him to do a job, so he was going to do it.
The money these three had collected from Deik in exchange for two kilos of coke.
Toga gave a nod as he tossed the leather satchel to the floor at Theo’s feet. “Yup. Fuckers tried to short us five large, but we made sure to emphasize that we aren’t in the game to be played.”
“Good,” Theo grunted.
Deik never could fuckin’ be trusted.
He snatched the satchel from the floor and tossed open the flap so he could thumb through the stacks.
“Everything’s there,” Toga said, jutting his chin. “Counted it myself.”
Theo could hardly keep from rolling his eyes. Like that prick could be trusted, either.
It’s what happened when you surrounded yourself with swine.
But it was, in fact, all there, so Theo gave them a dip of his head as he tucked the satchel under his arm and headed out, going right for his bike and securing it in one of the saddlebags.
His chest squeezed with guilt.
He thought he and his brothers all knew this was coming up on a dead end. Theo just had no idea what that would look like for them when they hit it.
He swung back onto his bike and kicked it over. Arms outstretched and hands wrapped around the handlebars, he eased back onto the alleyway in the direction of the street.
He didn’t know what it was that drew his attention to the right.
Out into the overgrown field littered with trash.
To the shape that was almost concealed in the shadows.
He slowed and squinted, peering into the grim night.
It was a person.
A body, likely.
Crumpled and discarded like garbage on the ground.
It would serve him well to mind his own business. To move on and get this money to where it belonged.
But he couldn’t do anything but edge off the side of the alley, letting his bike idle low as he pushed to his feet and started out into the vacant field.
His pulse was thready and fast as he cautiously moved toward them.
Sickness balled in his stomach as they came into better view.
On their side and facing away.
Arms and legs limp.
Dark, tangled hair spread around them.
A girl, he finally discerned.
He attempted to swallow down the bile as he knelt. He needed to turn away. Put in an anonymous call. But he couldn’t do anything but reach out and roll her onto her back.
The deepest moan reverberated out of her, and her eyes blinked open.
Relief rasped out of Theo, though rage pummeled him when he got a good look at her face.
Bruised and battered and left for dead.
But that’s what these streets did. They ate you up and spit you out.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m gonna get you help,” he muttered, trying to survey the damage. Her clothes were torn but at least she was in them. There was some blood on the edge of her mouth, but he couldn’t tell if she was bleeding from anywhere else.
He fumbled to get to his phone before a whimper mumbled between her lips, and she reached out and clutched him by the wrist. “No.”
A frown carved his brow. “Need to get you to an emergency room.”
She blinked frantically.
She was too fucking thin and frail, and by the ghosts that haunted her brown eyes, he imagined she’d been on the streets for a while.
“I can’t go there. You know that.”
He got it on a level he wished he didn’t. “You’re hurt.”
She emitted a hoarse, self-deprecating sound. “I’ve had it much worse.”
Theo’s chest clutched. “Can you sit up?”
“I think so.”
She groaned as he helped her upright, the girl gasping through the pain as she did.
A girl he’d pin between eighteen and twenty.
He warred, staring down at her. She wasn’t his problem. But he couldn’t just leave her there.
“Come on, let’s get you someplace safe. Get you cleaned up and something to eat.”
Surprise jetted from her, and she shook her head as she tried to process through his offer. “You’re…going to help me?”
Theo might have become a monster.
Might have been involved in horrible things.
His life surrendered to wickedness.
But he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving her there.
“Yeah. I have my bike. You think you have the strength to hold onto me?”
She warred for a beat, her gaze slanting to where his motorcycle chugged and rumbled, before she gave a slight nod. “I think so.”
Theo pushed to his feet and extended his hand, not realizing just how fucking bad he was going to regret murmuring, “Come with me.”