7. Magnus
Magnus
“What the fuck was that?” Dom raises his voice at me.
Which is never a good sign. Actually, with Dom, the raising or lowering are both equally bad news. Luckily for me, we have a strict no killing each other rule in the house.
Once I step outside though, that’s another story.
“Um, that was June.” I walk away from him and into the kitchen to refill my coffee. “And her friend Cora.” I stir some sugar into my cup. “Nice girl.”
“You let them into the house?” Dom follows me in, Hayes right on his tail, shadowing him in the weirdest way.
He’s got a I want to kill you, too look on his face that’s creeping me out a bit.
“It’s fine. Everything is fine. Why are you freaking out?” I bring the cup to my lips and take a drink.
Dominic’s big brown eyes widen. “Did you forget we’re in the middle of a fucking war?”
“A fucking war, that sounds fun.”
He exhales, clearly not appreciating my humor, but how could he with that stick shoved so far up his ass.
“Yes, Dom, I get it. But seriously, I was careful.” I point to Hayes. “How do you know her?”
And thank fuck he did, because I wouldn’t have put it past him to put a bullet in her and her friend just for being in our home.
I should have probably thought that one through, but I didn’t expect them to arrive prior to her leaving, especially after the mess we made last night.
Me and the guys, not me and June. That clean-up should have taken longer than it did.
Our crew is getting it down to a science with the latest increase in casualties.
If I thought June had trust issues, Hayes would give her a run for her money. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll wake up to him strangling me to death.
Psycho little shit.
Which is hilarious, because everyone thinks I’m the intimidating one, having most of my body covered in tattoos.
Nope, it’s the sweet, pretty surfer boy you have to worry about.
Don’t underestimate any of us though, our body counts are nothing to be proud of.
But in our line of work, it comes with the territory.
We’ve all seen more death than the inside of a funeral home.
Coen shifts his attention to Dom. “You seemed pretty familiar with her, too.”
Great, the girl of my dreams has already caught the attention of these two knuckleheads.
Which isn’t all that surprising, given we share an exquisite taste for the finer things in life.
“It doesn’t matter.” Dom places his hand on the counter. “I forbid any of us from seeing her again.”
I set my mug down and do my best to settle the rage building inside of me. “You can’t do that.”
Dom flares his nostrils. “I just did.”
I shrug, trying to make light of the situation. “Well, I override your order.”
He tilts his head and stares at me. “Hayes.”
“Yes?”
Obedient lap dog, that one.
“If Bryant here so much as reaches out to June, I want you to put a bullet in her head.” Dom doesn’t take his eyes off me in his attempt to confirm just how serious he is.
“None of us, and I repeat none, are to have any contact with her.” He turns to Hayes with that same intense look.
“That goes for you, too.” He runs his hand through his hair, which is something he only does when his emotions are heightened.
“Otherwise, that girl will be the end of us.”
But the thing about me, why they keep me around—aside from my handsome exterior, obviously—is because I can read people, and Dom…he’s fucking bluffing.
Whatever his experience with June is, he wants her as bad as Coen and I both do.
He’s not wrong though, she very well could be the end of us.
Dom shoves a pizza box across the counter toward me. “And clean this fucking mess up.”
My gaze settles on the edge of the counter, where I pressed my face into her warm, tight, decadent pussy and tasted her sweet lust. If I would have known how short-lived that moment would have been, I would have stopped and savored her even more.
Hayes appears at my side, his eyes boring into me. “Did you fuck her?”
Oh, did I ever. And what I wouldn’t give to do it again. And again. And again.
If I keeled over with my cock buried inside her, I’d die a happy man.
“I’d never kiss and tell.” I reach for the box, but he grabs my wrist, turning it over and yanking me toward him.
“So help me god, I will?—”
Dom steps between us, practically sandwiching himself in the small space. “Enough.”
Hayes, with his murderous stare, releases me.
“See. You’re proving my point right here.” Dom plants his palm on both of our chests and pushes us away from one another. “This is pathetic, over a girl, really?”
He knows damn well this isn’t any girl. It’s the girl.
I knew it the second I saw her, my heart practically leaping out of my chest to get closer to her.
And it was confirmed that evening, watching her across the bar, simply existing.
I wanted her. But more importantly, I needed her, like she was some lost limb, a piece of me that I could no longer live without.
That I didn’t know I required until she stepped into my path.
I could sense her soul—the darkness and the light dancing painfully as one, matching mine.
Love at first sight is a foolish sentiment until you experience it yourself. The way our lips melded perfectly together has me convinced I've kissed them in another life. That they belonged to me. And I would stop at nothing to make them mine once again.
Nothing will prevent that from happening.
Not Dominic. Not Hayes. Not a goddamn war.
We ride in silence to a warehouse on the outskirts of town. Dom in the front with the driver, me and Hayes on separate ends of the back seat, both peering out the window in an attempt to not have to look at each other.
I lean forward to readjust the pistol strapped to my ankle, one of the few weapons strategically placed around my body. A person can never be too prepared in times like these.
Our mission should be simple—interrogate and eliminate.
In a typical situation like this, we wouldn’t all need to be present. But with the war we’re currently waging, the only people we can really count on are each other.
Funny, considering the budding tension between us.
Hayes and I will stand guard, and Dom will have a chat with the rival member. Once he’s sure he’s got all he can get out of him, we finish the job and have a clean-up crew come in.
Easy peasy. Same shit different day.
Our main goal is to gain input on Beckett's attempt to claim control over our organization in our quest to eliminate him completely.
Why don’t we just kill him, you might ask?
The exact reason he doesn't off us. We're smart.
We've all been around the block long enough to have protection wider than what you see on the surface and we know how to wiggle around the grey areas and stay safe.
There's this unspoken agreement about public executions, too, meaning waltzing up into a bar and shooting each other is off-limits.
We’re ruthless, but we have some level of decency.
We have cops in our pockets and enough power to evade most trouble, except for a few things.
That’s where the balance of our little trio comes in handy.
I read people, and being able to suss out threats comes naturally to me.
Hayes is strategy and lead of security, always keeping us in the loop on the latest and greatest new weaponry.
And Dom, he’s the brains of the entire operation, the level-headed one that terrifies every person he walks past because of his constant resting bitch face and the stories of how brutal he is.
We’re a team, but Dom typically calls the shots, making him the one in charge.
And to be honest, that’s fine with me. I don’t want that type of responsibility.
Nor would I have any clue what the fuck to do with it if I did.
Although, him attempting to tell me who I can date might be stepping on my toes a bit.
Since knowing either of these guys, which has been a long time, none of us have had a relationship longer than a few wild nights in the sack.
Up until now, that’s been working well. There’s been no room for anything more.
Our lifestyles are dangerous and to bring someone into that would be selfish.
But what if for once I want to be greedy.
Am I a fool for desiring a human connection that lasts more than a quick fuck?
With the uncertainty of this war we’re in, I don’t want to meet my maker without having pursued the aching in my chest to be with this woman.
But what if chasing this phantom feeling ends up bringing her into something she can’t escape, and she meets a fate so many others have fallen to?
Maybe I should listen to Dom. Stay away. If not for me, but to keep her out of harm’s way. If I care about her the way I think I do, I owe her that.
Will Dom and Coen both be able to keep their distance though?
Our driver pulls into a narrow section between the industrial buildings behind a modest four-door sedan and cuts the engine.
Coen and I hop out of the vehicle and draw our guns.
He points his weapon toward the side. “You check in, I’ll check out.”
I nod and go right to work on my task. One thing is for sure, we’re all damn good at playing our parts, even if there is shit going on between us.
That’s how we’ve managed to advance ourselves the way we have and why we will win this war and gain control of the west coast sector.
Staying alive is just an added bonus. Or a curse, depending on what way you look at it.
I keep one hand on my weapon and use the other to open the door to the building we’ve arrived at.
Two pistols greet me, trained right at my chest.
“Just you three?” I enter, not giving too much attention to the guns. I’ve had enough of them pointed at me to not sweat like most people would. It’s not like they’re a threat anyway; they’re only doing their job.
“Yes, sir,” the taller one with a shaky hand says.
Nerves. It’s what’s going to get kids like him killed over.