Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
GRANITE
I was standing down the hall when Onyx left her room, walking in the other direction.
Fire simmered in my veins, jealousy about two seconds away from ripping through my chest. He had been visiting her a lot since we got here, claiming he was only trying to get her to eat. But I knew my brother well enough to know it was more than that.
Onyx wasn’t the type to concern himself with the wellbeing of others if he didn’t have some sort of interest in them.
And judging by the way he had been up my ass about Alyx ever since she got here, my guess was he had a real keen interest in her that stretched far beyond mere human compassion.
But even though it pissed me off, there was a part of me—the not so selfish part—that was thankful for someone trying to take care of her. But that didn’t mean I liked it.
In fact, I hated it.
I hated that he could take care of her, or at least try to.
I hated that he could walk into her room without feeling crushing guilt.
I hated that he could look into her eyes without hating the blood that ran through his veins.
Most of all, I hated that he could be there with her when I couldn’t.
She hated me. I hated me. It was better that way.
“You’re creeping.”
I turned to face Dutch leisurely leaning against the wall while lighting a cigarette. “I’m not creeping.”
“Yes, you are. You’ve been stalking this hall ever since we got here. It’s creeping.”
“We only got here two days ago.”
He blew out a cloud of smoke. “Dude, you’re creeping.”
“Whatever.” I turned and headed the other way. Knowing Dutch was following me, I talked while I walked. “Surroundings still secure?”
“Yup. Manic and his squad have been doing runs every hour on the hour. Our absence at the gym hasn’t raised suspicions yet. Not under these circumstances. Word on the street is we’ve gone to do some patch-overs of our own since…you know.”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “Our men on the inside still undetected?”
“Granite, man.” Dutch touched my shoulder, and I turned to face him. “Everything is as secure as it can be. Besides, I’m pretty sure the Pythons will be laying low for a while.”
“Don’t be so sure.” I clenched my jaw. “We underestimated the fucker not once, but twice. First with my dad, and then with Neon. That fucking devil won’t outsmart me again.”
“Us.” Dutch pinned his stare on me. “Us, Granite. Not you. Nothing about what happened so far was because of you, or about you. It’s because of us, and it’s about us. The Kings. We all carry the blame in this. Not just you.”
I pulled my hand through my hair, pushing it out of my face. “Whatever, man. I’m the president. I’m responsible for the safety of the members of this club, and that included Neon. Lot of good it did her.”
“Stop.” Dutch squared his shoulders, only a few inches shorter than I was. “Stop beating yourself up about it.”
“Never.” I stepped forward. “I will never stop beating myself up over what happened.” Unable to carry on with this conversation, I turned and walked away.
“What happened to Neon wasn’t your fault, man. And neither was what happened to Kate,” Dutch called after me, and I stilled for a few seconds.
“Well, I sure as fuck didn’t help them either.” With that, I left, my shit-kicker boots pounding the concrete as I stomped down the hall and up the stairs. I was suffocating. It was like the flames of hell were burning on my shoulders, the smoke smothering me.
Luckily, I had become a thick-skinned motherfucker a very long time ago.
There had been a whole list of shit I had to brush off in my life, but what happened to Neon wouldn’t be one of them.
As the leader, I had no choice but to go on and to continue being the head of this club.
There was no other option for me. My duty toward the club had also become my burden, and it was a burden I would carry until the day I took my last breath.
But I would never forget, and I would never forgive myself for what happened to Neon.
My dad always said we stood together as a unit but carried guilt alone as an individual. And this was the guilt I carried alone.
Our plan—my plan had failed in the sense that it went in a direction I never anticipated.
My selfish needs, my motherfucking greed cost us more than money could ever buy.
The damage was done, and right now I wasn’t sure how we’d be able to get back up.
But one thing was for sure…I would end the Pythons, and I would cut out Slither’s split tongue and burn it while he fucking watched.
I would never stop until I’d carved out his motherfucking heart.
After that? Who fucking knew? Maybe this world would have mercy on my soul, and I’d burn right there next to Slither. God knew, I deserved nothing less.
I exited the basement and stepped inside the house.
Our safe house was nestled in Coney Island, a place we only used in extreme emergencies.
My dad kept this location top secret, and not all members knew about it.
The double-story piece of real estate had been placed in a trust which could not be linked back to the Kings.
We managed to keep it with a few zeros slapped on a check and placed in the mail each month.
My dad was hellbent on having a safe house with a fully equipped medical room in case shit went wrong.
It took him two years to revamp the basement, turning it into a hiding spot for the day shit hit the fan.
Well, I’d say the shit had pretty much hit the fan right about now.
I stepped outside and onto the back porch where I spotted Onyx cleaning his Harley, and I immediately wanted to lose my shit. “Onyx, you know the rules. Motorcycles locked in the garage at all times.” An entire row of Harleys parked in the back yard was a dead giveaway.
“Relax, would you? It’s almost dark. And besides,” he wiped the side of his face, “one motorcycle won’t alert the fucking cops.”
“Jesus Christ,” I muttered under my breath. “For once, would you just do as you’re fucking told?”
“Where would the fun be in that?” The smirk on his face begged to be wiped off with my fist. Onyx cleaned his hands with a white piece of cloth, a cigarette hanging from his lips. “You plan on avoiding me the whole time we’re here?”
“Maybe.” No use in denying it.
Onyx swept his hand through his dirty-blond hair. “Avoiding problems won’t solve it.”
“Is that what you are? A problem?”
“I dunno. Am I?”
I slipped my hands into my jean pockets, keeping a safe distance from my brother.
There were too many mixed feelings raging inside me when it came to him.
And a part of me feared he might smell like her since he’d been spending so much time in her room.
If I had to catch her sweet scent of vanilla on him, I’d peel his fucking skin off.
Leaning back against the wall, I avoided eye contact with Onyx. “How is she?”
Onyx blew out a cloud of smoke. “If you really want to know, go find out for yourself.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Onyx.”
“Don’t use me to be your eyes and ears when it comes to her. You want to find out how she’s doing, go see her. Don’t fucking ask me.” He tossed his cigarette onto the dirt before turning his back on me and continuing to clean his bike.
I exhaled, bending my knee and placing my boot against the wall.
“So, where did you and Ink disappear to last night?” Onyx didn’t turn to face me as he spoke.
I plucked out a cigarette and placed it between in my lips. “Just went for a cruise.”
“Such bullshit.”
“What?”
“You two were gone for hours, and not even Dutch knew where you were.”
“Dutch doesn’t have to know my every move.”
“Yeah, he kinda does.” Onyx turned in my direction, eyes pinned on me with a scrutinizing glare. “Where were you, Granite?”
I lit the cigarette, blowing out some smoke. “Got nothing to do with you, little brother.”
“There was blood on Ink’s boots this morning. Have any idea how it got there?”
My mind reeled while trying to think of something to say. Goddammit. I told Ink to be careful.
I shrugged and let my gaze drift to the horizon before finally looking back at him. “I’m not your fucking eyes and ears when it comes to Ink.” I flicked my cigarette and straightened. “Want to find out what’s up with him, ask him yourself.”
Onyx snorted and continued to clean his motorcycle, seemingly unfazed by my sarcasm. I grabbed my phone and stomped back into the house.
Ink took his sweet time answering, and I was about to drop the call when his voice came through the receiver.
“Ink, where are you?”
“Where do you think?”
I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Listen, Onyx is like a fucking bloodhound. We need to lay low for a while.”
“What do you mean?”
“He saw the blood on your boot this morning. And he has that fucking look in his eyes when he’s trying to get to the bottom of something. We need to cool down a little.”
“No fucking way, man. I’m going out again tonight.”
See, I knew Ink wouldn’t play along. The man was consumed with an unhealthy amount of rage.
It had been days since he slept. He was living off whiskey, nicotine, and air.
But who could blame him? He was a walking hard-on, always trying to get into Neon’s pants because she was the one girl who didn’t fall for his dirty mouth and boyish good looks.
Ink had that charisma and confidence women seemed to fall for hook, line, and sinker.
I was pretty sure if I had a pussy, I’d probably fall for his dirty mouth.
But not Neon, and that drove the guy insane not being able to crack through her hard casing of attitude.
And even though he always joked about never stopping until she spread her legs for him, I knew deep down the guy cared for her—more than he ever wanted to admit.
Now, he was all types of fucked up over her.
“Listen, Ink. Let’s just be cool for a few days. Besides, you need to get some sleep.”
“Granite, you’re my bro, man. But I’m going out tonight, with or without you.” And then he hung up.
I cursed under my breath. It was probably better for us—for him to continue doing what we’d been doing.
That fury he carried was like a pressure cooker put on high, and he needed to get rid of some steam.
At least what we were doing was better than him shooting it up and getting high.
When Ink joined the Kings a few years back, the guy was having a hard time getting off the needle.
That was one thing our club didn’t tolerate, the use of hardcore drugs.
Weed? Sure. Selling weed was great for our cashflow.
But heroin? No way. It took us months to help get the guy clean. My dad refused to give up on him.
Goddammit. If Ink had to fall off the wagon because of what happened to Neon—because of what I let happen to Neon—that would be the final nail in my fucking coffin.
I already felt like a dead man walking, robbing the world of air I didn’t deserve.
The only thing that kept me from falling down that metaphorical black hole of nothing was my need for revenge.
I would avenge what happened to Neon. I would demand payback for what happened to Alyx.
Her mind was fucked because of what I let happen.
Ruined.
Corrupted.
Broken.
Just like me.