Chapter 33
CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
LOOT
Walking out into the bar, I should go straight for some booze, but I don’t do that. I’ve got more pressing matters. Like the fucking cunt who has made my boy hurt, because she has. I see it in his eyes.
This fight wasn’t just because that little prick said something to him. I mean, that shit didn’t help, but this was about him getting his anger out about his mother. She left him alone for weeks, something she’d done before and I didn’t know about.
He’d been living in fucking filth, and that was also something I didn’t know about. I would have figured it out, because in the past she always made sure she was home when it was my turn to get him, but she didn’t this time.
She’ll never have to worry about him again, or me, or getting high, or selling her body for a hit. Because she’ll never have to worry about anything else again. And after today, I won’t think about her.
Not ever again.
Because fuck her.
I see nobody and nothing as I walk out of the clubhouse and make my way to the small house about a quarter of a mile away. Originally, the president of the club lived here, but years ago, we turned it into a holding house.
We don’t have to take care of people often. That’s not the business we’re in, but we have had to discuss payments and situations with people before, and this is the building we use now.
Two-Pump is standing outside the door, his eyes focusing on mine as he jerks his chin in my direction. “You ready for this?” he asks.
I could lie, but I’m not that good a person. “More than fucking ready,” I murmur.
He snorts, reaching for the door and opening it to allow me to pass. I walk into the small living room, and there she is, sitting in the middle of the empty room, tied to a chair. Her head is hanging down. She’s looking at her lap, or maybe she’s asleep. I have no fucking idea. And I don’t care.
I watch her in the silence. Dare is standing a few feet away, leaning against the wall, his eyes focused on the ground. Slowly, he lifts his head, turning his attention to me.
“You good?” he asks.
Instead of answering him, I walk over to Destinee and lower down onto my haunches. I don’t speak. Lifting my hand, I curl my fingers in the back of her hair and pull her head back, snapping her neck. She sucks in a breath, surprised at the move, her eyes opening wide as she looks at me.
She doesn’t see me immediately. I wait for her to gather her bearings and realize who is looking at her. “You asshole,” she hisses. And that’s when I know she’s really seeing me. My lips curve up into a grin.
“I’m not the problem here, babe,” I murmur.
“Fuck you,” she hisses again.
“No,” I state. “I’m sorry I ever did. But that’s not why we’re here. Do you know why we’re here?”
Her silence doesn’t stop her from snarling at me. She doesn’t answer me, at least not fast enough.
“You’re here because you went off to find dope instead of taking care of our son. You left him alone for two goddamn fucking weeks, and he had to call me from a neighbor’s house because he was out of food.”
She doesn’t even seem fazed. “He’s not a titty baby anymore. He can fend for himself.”
The rage that bubbles up inside me is probably not a normal amount, but I let it consume me and feed me. This fucking bitch. He’s ten years old. He might not be a baby, but he still very much needs to be taken care of and fed.
Fucking hell.
But I’m not going to argue with her.
“I got him now, no worries. He’s fed and happy. New school and everything, too.”
She blinks, her lip curling before she speaks. “Does this mean I won’t get my child support anymore?”
Dare growls. I hold up my hand because I hear him take a step forward. I don’t want him to do anything—at least not yet. It doesn’t matter what she says. She doesn’t matter. I couldn’t give a fuck. She won’t live to see tomorrow.
“No,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice even and soft. “It means you won’t even see the sunlight again, let alone a dime from me.”
My fingers tighten in her hair. No matter the abuse and neglect I’ve suffered in my own life, I’ve never hated anyone—except Destinee. I fucking hate her with every fiber of my being. I will not mourn her dying. I’m going to fucking relish it.
And I do.