Chapter Seven #2
Cleo could have taken it as a dig, but Joker was being honest, and it almost sounded like a warning or reminder.
She let go and bit her nail, darting her gaze through the sea of people.
Cross and Ace were on the opposite side, but she knew better than to ask either of them for help in a situation they’d probably deem ridiculous.
She continued to scan the room and locked eyes with Wraith, who was sitting at the main table. Had he been watching her? He curled his finger, calling her over to him. He would definitely find it incredibly silly. Right?
As she made her way through the crowd, Wraith had kept his eyes trained on her. Nervous energy swarmed her belly. She stopped a foot away.
“What’s wrong?”
She licked her lips, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. “C-can you help me, please?”
Wraith immediately stood, pushing his chair back with so much force, it slammed into the man behind him. Wraith didn’t even look back. He stepped in front of Cleo, a breath away.
“What the fuck’s wrong?”
She cleared her throat. “It’s going to sound silly, I think, but…”
Wraith slid his hand over her jaw, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me.”
Ohhh. Cleo’s mind went blank. She was solely focused on Wraith’s hand on her face. A heat swept over her skin and her heart began to race.
“Cleo.” He said.
“Two girls in the back stole three of my flowers. The ones I got for my birthday? And they won’t give them back. They ruined one, but can you get the other two for me? Please.” Cleo paused then blurted. “I don’t want to fight anyone.”
He furrowed his brows. “Fight who?”
“Gent said we should have a girl fight, but I d-don’t want to.” Her voice shook. “I just want my flowers.”
“That motherfucker.” Wraith dropped his hand over her shoulder, down her arm, and clasped her hand.
What the… In all the time she’d been around Wraith, he’d never touched her. Now he’s done it twice. For a brief second, she enjoyed the feel of the callouses on his palm rubbing against her hand. She couldn’t remember the last time, if ever, she’d held hands with a man.
“Where are they?” He growled.
She pointed to the hallway. “In the pool room.”
Wraith tightened his grip and started through the room with her trailing behind. He stalked down to the game room still holding her hand. Cleo felt a presence at her back and looked over her shoulder. Cue was following behind them.
As soon as they entered the room, Wraith let go of her hand and all noise ceased to exist.
“Oh fuck,” Gent said, breaking up the tension. “Is this about the flowers?” He looked over at her and burst out laughing. “Calling in the big guns?”
Wraith turned, glaring. “Shut the fuck up.”
Gent shifted his gaze between her and Wraith and slowly held up his hands. “Relax, brother.”
Wraith ignored Gent, turning his attention to the girls in the back.
“You got something that doesn’t fucking belong to you?” Wraith’s venomous tone sent a shiver down her spine, and she looked over to the women. Neither one answered, but Cleo recognized the familiar look of fear. Both girls straightened and shifted closer together.
The redhead released a nervous laugh, looking at Cleo. “It was just a joke.”
“Did she think it was funny?” Wraith snapped, cocking his head toward Cleo.
No, I didn’t.
The other girl’s face paled, and she glanced over at Cleo. “We’re sorry.”
“Too fucking late.” Wraith gestured his chin to the table behind the girls, and one of the prospects grabbed their pocketbooks.
He tossed them to Wraith, who caught them in one hand.
“You still fucking laughing?” Wraith eyed the women then looked over to the prospect.
He immediately ripped the flowers out of their hands.
He stopped a few feet away and bent down toward the cooler, grabbing the vase.
He carefully handed her the bouquet, which she cradled against her chest, then offered her the two flowers.
“Thank you,” she muttered, staring down at the tattered petals.
“Look, we’re really sorry. We didn’t mean to start anything.” The redhead’s voice would’ve been convincing had Cleo not seen how much they enjoyed taunting her. It seemed Wraith wasn’t convinced of their sincerity either.
“You did. That’s two. Where’s the third?”
Cleo looked down at the hardwood. The petals were strewn across the floor, matted down under dark footprints. It was unsalvageable. The two in her hand weren’t much better but were still intact.
Cleo watched as Wraith opened the bags, grabbing the keys and wallets, and tossed the pocketbooks on the ground.
He rifled through each wallet, pulling out the girls’ drivers licenses.
He reached in his pocket, grabbed his knife, and began to cut up their licenses with a few quick slashes.
Cleo’s jaw dropped watching it all go down.
“No, please…”
Wraith ignored the women’s pleas.
“You trashed her shit, now I’m gonna trash yours.”
“Can we have the keys?”
Wraith cocked his brow. “Yeah, when your old man comes to get them.”
The women shared a look. “But we don’t have boyfriends.”
“I don’t give a shit if it’s your man, your brother, or your fucking father. You want these back?” He held up the keys. “You send a man. I ain’t gonna touch you, but I will beat the fuck outta the one who comes for these.”
“How are we supposed to get home?”
Wraith scoffed. “That’s not my fucking problem. But you’re in my house and on my property and you’re gonna have a big problem if you don’t get the hell out in the next minute.”
Both women scrambled across the room, and instinctively Cleo stepped to the side to give them a clear path. Wraith rested his hand on her back.
“You don’t move for them.”
Cleo stood silently watching the girls maneuver around her. Considering they were blocking the door, it was a miracle they were able to get by without brushing against her. As the second girl passed, Cleo heard the muttered apology.
“Sorry.”
Cleo clamped her lips and refrained from accepting it.
Forgiveness was important, but not if it wasn’t genuine.
They weren’t sorry they did it. They were sorry they got called out for it.
If not for Wraith, they’d still be laughing and retelling the story of the pitiful girl they’d taunted. She peeked up at Wraith and smiled.
“Thank you.”
Wraith looked down at her, and for a brief second his face softened. It was short lived.
“This was so much more entertaining than a girls’ fight. Thanks, Cleo.” Gent laughed, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
She didn’t find it amusing, and apparently, neither did Wraith. He nudged her slightly and gestured to the door. “Go to your room.”
When she hesitated, he leaned closer. “Go, Cleo!”
She nodded and turned, walking into the hallway. She was only a few feet away when she heard Gent’s voice inside the room.
“That was a commendable act of chivalry, Wraith.”
“Oh, I ain’t fucking done, brother.”
Cleo glanced over her shoulder, and Cue stormed out of the room. “Fuck!”
She pressed her back against the wall as he passed. Cue didn’t even look at her. He was focused on the two prospects at the end of the hall. “Get Ace and Cross back here.”
What was happening? As far as she knew, everything had been resolved. She glanced over at the door to the pool room. She stepped closer and jumped back when she heard a loud crash, followed by a masculine wail. Cue stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the doorway.
“Upstairs, Cleo.”
What the heck is going on?
****
Wraith saw red, and he zoned in on his target. Gent smirked, which only intensified his fire, sending his rage to another level.
“You want a fight?” Wraith hardened his stare. “I’ll fight you.”
“Oh shit.” He heard the muttered male voice coming from somewhere in the room, but Wraith was laser focused on Gent.
His brother laughed, pushing off the wall. “I never suggested Cleo fight. That brainchild came from those two.” Gent pointed to two men standing near the pool table. “I merely backed it. You don’t give her enough credit. Cleo’s scrappy.”
You, motherfucker.
“Yeah.” He growled, grounding his teeth. “Where the fuck do you think she learned that from?”
Wraith noticed Oak drop his gaze to the floor and tuck his hands in his pockets.
Cue averted his eyes, dragging his hand over his head.
Cleo’s past was a secret. But not all of it.
Knox had given enough detail of her abuse over the years, and each brother knew better than to make light of any type of violence in regards to her.
If someone was close to her and moved too swiftly, she cowered on instinct, usually protecting her face. The signs of lifelong trauma.
“Everyone get the fuck out!” Ace shouted, and all non-members rushed to the door.
Not all of them made it. When the two visitors were a foot away, Wraith reached out, grabbing the neck of the first man in line. With all his force, he threw him into his counterpart, knocking them both to the floor.
“You wanted to see a fight? I’m gonna show you a fucking fight.” Wraith stalked toward both men. He was mildly aware of the door closing.
They scrambled to their feet and backed up.
Unfortunately for the guys, it put them in the corner of the room.
They’d have to get past Wraith to make it to the exit.
That wasn’t going to happen. Wraith had singlehandedly taken on twice the men who were double their size. He was born and bred for this.
The guys took a united stand, and for a brief second, they shared a look. As if he could read their minds, the corner of Wraith’s lip curled. They thought at least one of them would make it past him. Wrong, assholes! One man darted to the right while the other rushed to the left. Fucking amateurs.
Wraith reached out, grabbing each man by the throat and slamming their heads together.
A sharp crack echoed through the room and both screamed out in gut wrenching agony.
Wraith released one man, throwing him against the wall, and drew a fist, pounding it into the other guy’s face.
Over and over. And over. He dropped to the ground, balled up next to his friend.
He was completely out, gurgling on his own blood.
The other guy came to, and leaned forward. Wraith dropped the heel of his boot to his neck, forcing him back down.
“No girl fight.” He applied more pressure until the man started choking, and his eyes bulged. “Just a pussy fight.”
“You kill them, you bury them,” Cross said. “You know the rules.”
The last thing Wraith wanted to do was cart off two dead bodies for disposal. He had other plans. He gave one more harsh shove with his boot, then straightened. He rolled his neck, eyeing the men. Worthless assholes with no honor.
Wraith turned, eyeing his bloody knuckles.
“Wraith.”
He glanced up at Cue, who took off his T-shirt and threw it to him. Wraith wiped the blood. He clenched his jaw, fighting against the burn from the rawness of his knuckles.
“Should have taken bets on this match.”
Wraith slowly turned to Gent, leveling him with his stare. The release from beating the two guys had tempered his rage. But I still got a little left. For as big as he was, Wraith was underestimated when it came to stealthy, quick movements. It left most of his prey in surprise.
He walked toward the door, swiftly shifted to the left, and wheeled back his arm. The brothers weren’t quick enough to intercede, and Gent had let his guard down. Wraith’s fist clocked his jaw with so much power, Gent’s head swung back, and he slammed against the wall.
“Fuck, Wraith.” Ace moved in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him back. “Settle the fuck down.”
Wraith scowled at Gent who straightened, licking the blood off his busted lips, smirking.
Fucking sadist.