Chapter 4
Levi
INITIATION: TEST THREE.
The first task was the hardest—it challenged our willingness to comply with what was required of us to be worthy of the secret society.
The second tested our sanity and ability to adapt to the dark and depraved.
Dane was a fucking psycho, bar none. His reaction to our torturous killing was something out of a horror movie; the unnatural smile as he watched the man suffer and die. It had me begging the question of where we would go from here…
Did our kills always have to end in brutal, bloody disaster, or could we end our target’s lives instantaneously, with less of a mess to leave for housekeeping?
With Dane as our sponsor, I assumed we had to perform as instructed by him. But once we were on our own, he had no control over our executions, leaving me to hope and believe that the method of murder was ultimately and entirely up to us.
“I want a gun,” Lucas stated as he dropped himself into the empty spot beside me on the couch. Well, that’s one way to start a conversation.
Today was our day off from the world of the wicked: no show, rehearsals, or mandatory gym time. It was simply a day for us to disconnect and relax, catching up on the new life we were slowly acclimating to—one body bag at a time.
“Do you even know how to use one?” I teased, turning the TV off and tossing the remote onto our cheap black coffee table.
The majority of the furniture in our twelve-hundred-square-foot two-bedroom apartment was from IKEA, and it was an absolute bitch to put together.
Our first week of moving in generated a toxic team-building experience, ultimately ending with us working in separate rooms to avoid confrontation—or the sudden urge to hurl my brother off the third-story balcony.
“How hard could it be? You load it, aim, and pull the trigger. Bang! Easy as pie.” I wanted to ask him if he’d ever attempted to make a pie—the science behind the process and how one incorrect measurement could lead to complete fucking disaster.
I was no pastry chef by any means, but at least I knew that nothing in life was easy.
“Look, I know you wanted to use knives because they’re your specialty, but after that last guy…
I can’t. I need something quick and deadly. ”
“Knives can be quick if you know where to throw them.”
“I’m not arguing with you over this. I’ve made up my mind and I’m using a gun for our next test. If a fucking Legacy can use one without feeling any less of a man, then so can I.” I mean, Lucas had a point, and I had no intention of changing his mind—I also never said it made him lesser…
There was no shame in using a gun; more power to you.
I just wanted to add a little more flair to my kills and create a signature for myself—that’s where the preference came in.
I enjoyed playing with butterfly knives like fidget toys.
They were both satisfying and stress-relieving to open and close.
“Better get your practice in while you can, because Dane won’t wait for you to become an expert marksman before delivering us our final target.” I placed my hands behind my head before resting back onto the couch and crossing my ankles on the coffee table.
“Yeah, yeah. I—” Lucas stopped, pulling his phone from his back pocket and reading whatever was on his notification preview screen. “Awe fuck…” He sighed with a deep groan, dropping the phone into his lap and rubbing his face with both hands.
“Let me guess…”
“Dane.” We answered in unison.
“Uh-huh. I figured as much. I guess you’ll just have to use our target as target practice.” I joked, pushing myself off the couch before heading toward my room to change out of my sweatpants. “What time?”
“Seven…” Lucas whined through his palms with a hiss. “Ffffuuuccckkkk…”
Murphy’s law, ain’t it a bitch.
“I know I don’t need to explain myself to either of you—” Dane started as we approached him, standing outside of District Nightclub, casually dressed in his typical I’m too fucking cool to own anything more than this attire, aka, the same thing he wore for our second test. Only this time, his hair was slicked back like Danny Zuko from Grease—a near spitting image, actually.
He could give John Travolta a run for his money if he tried.
“But I feel some clarification is needed regarding your last test.”
You mean the man you indirectly made us overdose on his own drug?
Lucas and I stopped a few feet away from where he leaned against the building, crossing our arms over our chests and staring at him with narrowed eyes.
“Torture isn’t the name of the game, or the priority of the MUR.
The key is always to eliminate the target, however you see fit.
As long as they’re out of the picture, your work is done…
Although from time to time others, such as myself, prefer to have a little extra fun before pulling the trigger. ”
“So what you’re saying is that last—”
“I’m saying you don’t need to follow through with additional steps if you choose not to.
The kill makes you worthy of membership, not the method in which it’s delivered.
Now come on. Your final target is inside, a piece of shit loan shark posing as a fucking mafia boss.
” Dane snarled, straightening his leather jacket and turning to open the club’s back door.
The music was obnoxiously loud, pulsating my eardrums and forcing my heart to take on a new rhythm. Lucas could take several shots at the target without anyone ever knowing if these were the conditions we were working under tonight—lucky him.
I couldn’t resist chuckling at the thought of seeing my brother taking shot after missed shot at the guy in an attempt to end his life. I hoped our target would antagonize him for it too, pissing him off even further. If he didn’t, I would.
We followed Dane down a dark hall, the walls vibrating as we approached a vibrant red door with a bright white light seeping out from beneath.
He stopped and abruptly whipped around to face us, holding a palm up before curling all his fingers down except his index and pressing it to his lips, indicating silence.
Plumes of smoke crept out with the light, and for a moment, I thought it was from one of those smoke machines that most nightclubs used for aesthetic purposes. But after a deep inhale, my senses alerted me to the thick, heavy scent of a cigar—tobacco and musk.
“This is not like your first two tests. The man inside is not restrained and is most likely armed.” You’re fucking kidding me…
Although I don’t know why I would have expected every target to be pre-restrained and handed to us on a silver platter, either.
“You let me do the talking, and if he so much as looks at you wrong, you shoot that motherfucker in the head. You got it?” Dane ordered, maintaining his low tone as he pulled two black Glocks from behind his back and shoved them into our hands. “Shoot to kill, or we’re all fucked.”
I swallowed a hard lump that had built in the back of my throat before wetting my lips and rolling them together with a nod of understanding.
Looks like Lucas got his wish for a gun. Let’s just hope that he has better aim than I do.
Dane didn’t open the door this time around; instead, he politely knocked, waiting for permission to enter, which a loud and wet smoker’s cough had granted.
Lucas and I trailed behind Dane as he passed through the doorway and stopped roughly three feet from the large, round man who was situated comfortably behind his old oak desk.
I folded my hands behind my back, pressing the back of my palm against the gun I had tucked under the waistband of my jeans. The cold metal against my skin put my anxiety at ease as I paid close attention to the interaction between Dane and the loan shark posing as a kingpin.
“Emerson. To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you this evening?” The man’s voice was a deep growl, rough and scratchy as if he’d been a smoker his entire life. The lit cigar on his desk made breathing harder the longer we stood there.
“It’s come to my attention, Daniel, that you’ve been crossing into territory that isn’t yours.
Soliciting a title that doesn’t belong to you, and speaking for people whom you have no authority over.
” Dane spoke in a cold manner as he crossed his arms over his chest and settled into a more dominating stance.
He wasn’t the least bit intimidated by the man seated before him—and why the fuck would he be? I knew firsthand just how badly Dane could fuck this guy up if he wanted to.
“And who the fuck are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?
You’re nothing more than an errand boy. So why don’t you act the part, run along and tell your boss to talk to me like a man instead of sending empty threats he can’t follow through with?
” Daniel crooned with a deep chuckle that turned into another vile cough.
He picked up his cigar and took a long drag before rising from his desk, two palms pressed firmly on the surface to support his heavy weight.
“Oh, I can assure you I’m far more than an errand boy, and Dustin is following through with his last threat, as he always does.” A simple snap of Dane’s fingers was our signal to make a move.
Lucas and I pulled the glocks from behind our backs and directed them straight at Daniel, who did nothing more than laugh, as if our weapons were cheap toys.
“I gotta hand it to you. You’ve got balls, Dane. But did you really think that you could just come in here with your two fuck boys and kill me that easily?”
Lazily side-stepping out of our way, Dane laughed, biting his thumbnail with a savage smirk. He didn’t show an ounce of surprise at Daniel’s statement, shrugging him off as if he were nothing more than a beggar on the street—entirely fucking beneath him.
“Actually, yeah.” He answered, sliding his hands into his front pockets while dragging his tongue across his teeth.
“No one’s coming to your rescue this time, Daniel.
I’ve already taken care of all precautionary measures before stepping through your door.
If you were to call for any of your guards right now, I’m sure you’ll find that, unfortunately, no one will come running to your aid. ”
The snarl that bared Daniel’s yellowing smile was feral, his hands curling into fists with sheer rage. When he released his right hand from the desk, a startling bang told me Lucas had already pulled the trigger—and fucking missed.
“You mother—”
Bang!
Bang!
Bang.
I took my shot and Lucas followed through with a second, both nailing Daniel in the head, one above his right brow and the other to his temple. The third bang was from his face smashing onto the desk as his body unceremoniously dropped to the floor.
“Congratulations, boys. You just killed your final target.” Dane clapped with pride and rubbed his hands together as he sauntered past us. “I’d say you two deserve a round on me tonight. Let’s get the fuck out of here. This place fucking reeks…”
My eyes connected with my brother’s, just as they had at the end of our second test, but this time we had the biggest shit eating grins tugging at the corners of our lips.
We fucking did it.