Chapter 6
Logan
M usic thumps through my veins with the thick cloud of smoke in the air that comes from Tey as he slumps into the couch, exhaling the stench of weed through his mouth without a care in the world.
My arms clench the cushions on either side of me as I blow out a frustrated, bored breath.
God, same thing, different day on an endless loop.
I. Am. Bored.
“You like that, baby?” Paris's annoying voice croons from between my legs and I roll my head down lazily until I’m staring at her kneeling position as her mouth moves up and down my dick in a sloppy mess.
Is it too much to ask for my cock to be treasured like a vanilla ice cream cone that you keep licking until you're down to the cone instead of this race she’s doing in the wannabe porn Olympics?
Tey chuckles next to me in amusement at my expense before reaching over and threading his black painted nails through her hair, holding the back of her head, and shoving down until she’s choking on my dick.
That’s better but still missing something.
The fucker holds her down until I actually feel a spark and releases her just as I start to feel a tingle in my spine.
I watch tears leak from her eyes at being choked by my cock.
She comes up gasping, coughing, and flicks her eyes to Tey with a wary look even though she smiles wobbly.
She has a right to be nervous, she’s just a body to be used and yet keeps coming back for more.
It might be time to cut her loose before she thinks I’m going to keep her.
Paris follows me around like a lost puppy, hoping to sink and hook me just because both of our parents come from money.
I’ve fucked other girls behind her back, and plenty in front of her at parties to prove my point.
She means nothing to me. Guess the dollar signs keep people around.
It’s a turnoff, the smell of desperation and having the same thing more than once makes me shiver because fuck that.
I’m meant to taste all the flavors, not settle for one.
“You almost done there, buddy? We gotta take care of that thing. Paris, are you going to leave my boy hanging, or can you open your mouth wide to get the job done?” Tey questions lazily gesturing between us with his hand that holds a joint, bobbing his head to the music and looking relaxed from the weed in his slouched position.
Sitting in the VIP section of Toxic, one of the hottest spots in LA has its benefits, it drowns out the voices and allows us to talk business without straining to be heard over the loud music.
Too fucking bad this bitch won’t take the hint to leave even after telling her point blank to get the fuck out.
Always on her knees even in front of my friends, she doesn’t care as long as she thinks I’ll put a ring on her finger one day.
Like I said, desperation comes off her in waves.
She only proves me right when she unzips my pants, and now I’m soft instead of being hard to the point it’s almost painful.
“Poor Logan, just isn’t enough anymore, is it? We need something new to toy with, maybe a new pet.” Tey chuckles as he sits up, taking one more exhale before crushing the joint under his boot and blowing the smoke in Paris’ face.
She coughs, looking away from him, and starts to reach for my dick again with a determined glint in her brown eyes.
“Want to come on my tits instead, baby? I know you like that, I won’t even clean up after so everyone knows I’m yours.
” She pleads up at me but I have my pants zipped up in seconds and my gun pressing against her temple.
I’m a sick bastard who gets off on fear and it stinks coming out of her pores.
“Get the fuck out, Paris. You aren’t mine and never will be. I don’t settle for one girl. Leave before I decide to put a bullet through your skull.” My tone comes out bored but I wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger with her brain matter painting the walls.
You get raised by a monster, you become the monster, and that’s exactly what I am.
“Oh no! Run, little deer, run!” Tey hollers through his laughter as she scrambles away on shaking legs like a fawn and finally fucking leaves to blend in with the rest of the writhing bodies on the dance floor.
“This shit is getting so old. Let’s get the fuck out of here, go deal with that little fucking weasel and pick up the merch.
My dad’s going to blow a gasket if we don’t stop at the precinct and get the drugs out of there before the FBI comes sniffing around.
” I unbutton the top of my white button down shirt with a growl of frustration, hating how restricted I feel in my tailored dress pants and classic shoes that any gentlemen should have in their closet…
too bad the outfit doesn’t fit who I am.
Be classy as fuck, show some dominance that matches the suit as you beat a man to death, never spill a drop of blood on your iron pressed shirt.
Tey rubs his hands together in glee next to me, winking as we pass two girls making out in the middle of the hallway trying to catch our attention.
“My brother from another mother, do you think I can check out the supplies before handing it over to dear old daddy dearest?” He smiles jokingly but under that, I can hear his need.
Tey is like a walking corpse, a little dead inside but somehow still managing to roam around.
I think bouncing from foster home to foster home has fucked him up more than he lets on, his need to escape every second of the day worries me but that’s why I’m here.
To keep him in line so he can make it past thirty fucking years old.
It’s why I’m the fucking leader in our small tight knit group.
“Don’t let me hear that fucking shit come out of your mouth again. The answer is no. I need your head clear for this. I’ll let you take a few stabs at the warehouse to get your high.”
Do I sound like a harsh bastard? Yeah, but that’s just who I am. Harsh, cold but I love my boys so I’ll be whoever I need to be for them. Besides, if we fuck this shit up, we are all going down until the bars slam shut and I’ll be stuck in one place. That can’t happen.
“You always take the fun away.” He grumbles behind me but picks up his dragging feet when we exit through the back door and he rushes over to my one true love with the keys twirling on his finger.
“Not the Corvette, Tey!” I growl at him as my hand moves lovingly over the hood of my glossy black beauty before getting into the passenger seat.
“You're a shit, just don’t scratch her.” Might as well let him have this high adrenaline rush.
The engine rumbles and Tey cranks up the music before peeling out of the parking lot.
“Fuck yeah!” He howls out the window like a fucking animal and guns it towards the warehouse so we can have some fun with the little fucktard who decided to become a traitor. Nothing like beating a man on a Saturday evening and washing your sins away Sunday morning at church.
* * *
“I’ll only ask you one more time, Lenny. Where the fuck is the money?” I wipe my hands on the handkerchief that’s always in my back pocket, wiping the blood away from my cracked knuckles calmly as I wait for his excuse.
“I’m telling you, I don’t have the money or the missing drugs!
I was just doing my job like I was told by your father.
‘Take the counterfeit money from the warehouse’, he said, ‘deliver it and bring the coke back here!’ I never ratted out to the FBI where the meth lab is, they showed up raiding the place with the SWAT team and took the drugs just before I made it down the street.
I would never tell no cops!” Lenny shouts, his body trembling in the chair I tied him to not too long ago.
Tey is bouncing on his toes next to me, about to explode to cause some violence, the crazy fucker.
I step back to admire my handiwork, this dumb motherfucker didn’t think we’d realize that some of the supplies would slowly go missing with each shipment.
Taking the drugs wouldn’t be the biggest deal, maybe a few pops to his kneecaps would get our message across.
But man, you messed with the wrong people thinking you can steal their money.
Lenny showed up tonight at the warehouse my old man owns in the bad part of the outskirts of L.A.
and actually thought it would be a brilliant idea to change out the good coke as a replacement with the bad shit that you can find on any street corner.
Our stuff is pure and clean, expensive as hell, and keeps the clients coming back for more, so catching him in the act made this even sweeter.
I’m not sure he was the one to pass the information to the FBI about where one of our meth labs is but something isn’t adding up, so now I have to go into the station to handle it.
Lenny’s currently panting through each breath, could be from the broken ribs I just gave him or the blood dripping down the back of his throat from his nose that I repeatedly hit.
Usually, this is Dalton’s type of thing, he loves to use his fist but he’s busy tonight in the underground ring, pounding the shit out of someone else at the moment.
“Let me at him, Logan! I wonder if it squeals like a pig and looks like one, if that makes him a pig? I brought my favorite knife.” Tey’s voice comes out as an excited purr, I wouldn’t be surprised if the fucker is semi hard right now.
Lenny looks between the two of us frantically, shivering from the cold, gulping as he looks at the meat hanging from hooks in the depth of the freezer and the clear tarp hanging from floor to ceiling surrounding him.
This isn’t our first rodeo and I think he’s finally getting it through his thick skull that the last image he’ll see is skinned pigs swinging from the ceiling.