19. Dante
I wakeup on the couch downstairs, my mind still turning over some of the scenarios Maddoc and I were working on last night. It doesn’t surprise me that I fell asleep down here. We were deep in battle planning mode, and the urgency of this bullshit with West Point meant that neither one of us wanted to let up until we came up with an idea of how the fuck we’re supposed to protect what’s ours now that he’s bringing in mercenaries who could theoretically mow our people down without lifting a finger.
Theoretically.
Obviously, that didn’t work out so well for McKenna yesterday at our warehouse.
I smirk as I sit up, but then lose the expression in the face of hard facts. Yeah, we got all our people out without any casualties, but we lost a fuck-ton of product and worse, showed them what we’re capable of.
I’ve got no doubt at all that trained operatives like he sent after us at the warehouse are going to use what they learned from our response to hit us harder next time.
“Fuck,” I mutter, needing some goddamn coffee before I deal with that thought. I smell some, and if I had to guess who’s in the kitchen this early making it, I’d go with either Logan or Riley.
My bitch-ass mood evaporates in a wave of heat. I went upstairs to grab some shit Madd and I needed to look at last night from the library next to Logan’s room, and there was no mistaking the sounds coming from behind his closed door.
I grin, adjusting my morning wood when things get a little tight in my pants as it reacts to that memory.
There will never be a time when Riley’s pleasure doesn’t get me going. The woman is the hottest thing in existence, and all this love shit between us just adds fuel to the fire.
Although I’ve gotta admit, so does what she has going on with Logan.
It’s crazy as hell to see him opening up to her too. I’d lay down my life for him, but I never thought I’d see the day he’d admit to wanting someone. Or, hell, allow himself to get close enough to have someone, what with all his control issues.
I guess it just took finding a woman who meshes perfectly with all his jagged edges, and it’s not even like she smooths them down, she just… fits. It’s fucking incredible, and if I’m being honest, I don’t think there’s any way I could have the feelings for her that I do if she didn’t have something just as deep with both my brothers too.
Would I still want to fuck her if she didn’t? Sure.
Crave her pussy like a fucking addiction? I did, right from the start, after that first incredible fuck at the strip club.
But I had no idea at the time that it would turn out to be anything more than that. That she would become something essential to my existence, something as necessary to both me and my brothers as air. Something that honestly makes me wonder how any of us functioned before she got here.
Not that we had problems working together. We’re fucking family. We’ve lifted the Reapers up to be a serious contender in the city. But until Riley came, all of that was still missing something that I’m pretty sure none of us realized was even possible.
She… completes us.
Something clatters in the kitchen, and the low curse that follows has me grinning.
It’s her, and I scrub a hand back through my hair and shake the stiffness out of my limbs, then head that way to greet her.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. She doesn’t see me at first, turned away and facing the counter, and when I come up behind her and move her long wavy hair aside to nuzzle her neck, I notice some light marks Logan must have left there last night.
“These look good on you, princess,” I say as I lean down to nip one.
She jumps, then turns in my arms and blinds me with her beauty all over again. “Good morning.”
“Morning.” I kiss her properly. It’s required. Then I run my fingers over the faint finger marks on her throat. Not love bites. Logan had his hands around her throat. “I’m glad you two are working your shit out.”
“Me too,” she says as her face flushes with color and she gets a faraway look in her eyes.
She lets out a soft sigh, her body moving against mine in a telltale rhythm that I easily recognize. She’s thinking of what she did with him, and it turns her the fuck on.
My cock urges me to go with that, but I tell it to shut the fuck up for a second.
“I’m serious, princess,” I say, cupping her face. “I mean it. You’re so fucking good for him.”
“He’s good for me too,” she says as more of that flush floods her cheeks. “He helps me understand a part of myself that I see reflected back in him. Not just understand it, but… be okay with it.”
“Okay?” It comes out like a growl. “You’d better be a hell of a lot more than just ‘okay’ with yourself. Every part of you is fucking incredible, and you need each one, all the colors, to make the whole picture. The picture I’m fucking in love with.”
I never thought I’d say that to anyone. Now, I’ll fight every day for the privilege of telling her.
She sucks in a sharp breath, her eyes shining up at me, and I’ve got no idea who moves first, but our kiss is explosive. Fucking perfect. It’s everything I need to get me going for the day.
And then it’s fucking interrupted.
The sharp knock on the front door ricochets through the house, quickly followed by an insistent jab on our doorbell.
I loosen my arms around her as Maddoc and Logan come thundering down the stairs, then pull her along with me as we follow them to the front door.
When Maddoc answers it, I recognize the man on the other side instantly. We all do, even though I’m pretty sure my brothers don’t know his name any more than I do. Not that it matters. What matters is who sent him.
The Six.
“They sent me with a message for you.”
Logan goes still, and I push Riley behind me. Maddoc keeps his cool as per usual, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. “What is it?”
“They require your presence at Saraven tonight.”
Madd doesn’t push him for more, because that’s not how this shit works. Once he gives us the time we’re expected, he leaves, and it’s Riley who breaks the silence.
“Maybe… they’ll help?”
“That’s not what they do, butterfly,” Maddoc says gruffly.
She takes a deep breath, then puts on a determined smile. “Well, then they’re not going to help West Point either, right?”
“Right.”
I exchange a look with my brothers. Technically, that wasn’t a lie, and damn, I love our girl even harder for trying to keep our spirits up. Still, I see my own gut feeling reflected back in Maddoc and Logan’s eyes.
Whatever The Six want, it’s ain’t gonna be good.
We head to Saraven,the upscale club that’s understood to be neutral ground, once it gets dark out. The four of us are silent as we’re ushered through the ritzy front areas of the club to the same room we were summoned to last time. And just like last time, the six true leaders of Halston’s underground are seated behind a long table on a raised dais, the only piece of furniture in the room.
Also like last time, shortly after we’re brought in front of them, McKenna is shown in with a posse of his goons posturing behind him.
I scowl before I can help it, then school my face fast. But fucking hell. If we were anywhere else, I’d be tempted to end this thing permanently by putting that shit stain in the ground right now. Next to me, Maddoc suppresses a barely audible growl, no doubt having much the same thought. Even Logan twitches a little, the barest hint of the raging emotion we’re all feeling about those assholes rippling through his normally impenetrable facade.
“Thank you for coming,” says the dark-haired woman in the middle, her blue eyes piercing even from a distance.
Ayla Fairchild. If ever there’s a woman whose spine of steel reminds me of our princess, at least by reputation, it’s her.
Maddoc murmurs some platitude in greeting and McKenna proves he’s as dumb as he is aggressive by failing to show her respect as he grunts his response.
Ayla doesn’t call him on it. None of The Six do. But I can see on their faces that each takes note of his attitude.
It’s almost enough to lighten my spirits for a second.
Almost.
“You’ve been called in because, despite our earlier warning, there was another large altercation that brought the attention of the police where it shouldn’t be,” Ayla starts without any further preamble. “That’s unacceptable.”
I hear Maddoc’s teeth grind, even though he keeps his face outwardly calm.
Before he can formulate a response, McKenna jumps in.
“West Point is happy to follow your directive, ma’am,” he says with an ingratiating smile. “All my people have been warned. But when the Reapers start shit with us, we gotta defend, you know?”
Ayla raises one perfectly groomed eyebrow. “No. I don’t know. Are you saying that the Reapers are responsible for the shoot out and warehouse fire that drew so much attention last night?”
“That’s right,” McKenna says, puffing out his chest. “They fucking ambushed us.”
“That’s not what happened,” Maddoc says, his voice hard. “The warehouse was ours. The attack happened on our territory.”
Ayla turns her attention to Maddoc. “Attack?”
McKenna scoffs loudly. “That’s not—”
“Be quiet.”
Ayla doesn’t raise her voice, or even look at him, but I guess the piece of shit does have a shred of self-preservation instinct after all, because he actually shuts the fuck up.
His face sure as shit doesn’t like being treated like that, though.
I almost smirk. I’ve got self-preservation instincts too though, so I don’t.
“What happened?” Ayla asks Maddoc. “Are you contradicting McKenna’s account of this mess?”
He doesn’t twitch, doesn’t even look toward the West Point delegation, and I get it. My brother has a lot of control, and right now, he needs it to navigate the treacherous waters we’re stuck in, called on the carpet like this.
But some things—and Austin motherfucking McKenna is one of them—are enough to break even Maddoc’s iron control.
Especially when I note the fucker eyeing our girl with a lecherous gaze that makes me want to pull out both his eyeballs and piss on their crushed remains.
I subtly shift my position, blocking his view of her as Maddoc gives The Six a clipped, succinct description of what went down with those fucking mercenaries yesterday. Not that he comes right out and says McKenna hired trained operatives, but he makes the details clear for anyone who knows how the dark underbelly of this city operates as well as The Six do.
Like we told Riley earlier though, they ain’t here to help us, so it’s no surprise that they take it in without much of an outward reaction.
On the plus side, I can tell they’re skeptical of McKenna’s version of events. They’re too fucking smart not to be.
“Is that it?” Ayla asks once Maddoc’s done.
“No,” McKenna snaps. “He’s lying. They lured our men there. Took some of them out. We demand retribution.”
The look she gives him is so cold she could give Logan’s heart-of-ice impression a run for its money. “You’re not in a position to make any demands here, Mr. McKenna. And while we won’t tolerate either of your organizations continuing to put what we’ve built at risk by drawing unnecessary attention to areas we’d prefer to keep law enforcement out of, at the end of the day, our job isn’t to be arbiter in your disputes, or to dole out consequences relating to an individual gang’s grudges. Our role is to maintain order in the Halston underground, and make no mistake, we will do that.”
A vein starts to throb in McKenna’s temple, but much to my disappointment, the fucker holds his tongue.
I would love to see what would happen to him if he actually forgot who we’re speaking to. Especially when his body language draws a sharp look from Marcus Constantine, another member of The Six whose uniquely colored eyes make him unmistakable. Despite that, the grumbling agreement McKenna finally gives them has a lot in common with a middle finger when delivered the way he offers it, but Maddoc confirms our understanding on behalf of the Reapers without further incident, and they dismiss us shortly thereafter.
It ain’t good, but it’s not as bad as it could have been. Although I’d be lying if I said their final words, delivered by Marcus, aren’t ringing in my ears as we leave.
“This will be your last warning,” he says, no inflection in his voice.
He didn’t need any. The aftermath of their rise to power here in Halston makes it clear what will happen to anyone who crosses The Six, and the look I share with my brothers just drives home the fact that staying off their radar while we do whatever we have to is gonna make it that much harder.