TWENTY
A s Poison’s restless tossing subsided, the world around her slipped into darkness and stillness.
She stood in the middle of a desolate clearing, the soil beneath her feet marred by the ravages of a brutal war. Scars of destruction crisscrossed the landscape, a haunting testament to past struggles. She gazed down at her hands, stained crimson with blood, a horrid reminder of the violence that had unfolded.
Raising her eyes, Poison witnessed the grim image around her—countless lifeless bodies strewn haphazardly, surrounded by pools of blood. At the center lay the motionless figure of Phillip, or was it his twin brother? A silent scream clawed at her throat as she grappled with the harrowing sight.
When she awoke the following morning, Poison found her dreams slipping away like mist, her mind too clouded to grasp their fleeting fragments. She lay there for a moment, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her eyes stinging from crying the night before.
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess, struggling to process everything. The realization that she was responsible for Phillip’s brother’s death felt like a grotesque nightmare, and she desperately wished it were nothing more than a figment of her imagination.
Yet, the nauseating knot in her chest reminded her of the grim reality, and the swollen puffiness of her eyes served as tangible proof.
She was Double R’s killer.
Ordering a Cruze, she snuck out of the house, careful not to wake Nina or Nick. Sunlight started dancing on the horizon as she slipped into the back seat of her ride and gave the driver her address.
As the vehicle pulled away, she couldn’t shake the weight of guilt and uncertainty that clawed at her heart.
Arriving at her apartment building, she hurried upstairs, her mind still clouded by the events of the previous night. She barely registered her surroundings as she entered her apartment, quickly showered, and changed into suitable clothes for work.
Gathering her belongings, she ran out the door, needing to distance herself from the troubling thoughts that assaulted her mind.
The city streets buzzed with life as she navigated through the morning rush, the rhythmic drum of her motorcycle’s engine clearing her thoughts.
She reached her office building and hurried inside, ready to bury herself in mundane tasks. Anything to escape the voices screaming.
Hours passed in a blur of meetings, phone calls, and coding. By the end of the day, a sense of unease crept back into her thoughts.
Just as she was preparing to leave for the evening, her assistant, Sarah, entered her office with a sense of urgency.
“Miss Sloan, I apologize for the interruption, but there’s a potential client waiting for you in the conference room,” Sarah informed her.
Poison’s heart kicked against her ribs, her mind racing to the worst possibility. Could it be Scorpion? She clenched her jaw, forcing herself to stay calm.
“Who is it?” she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.
“I’m not sure,” Sarah answered. “I was just told to come and get you.”
Pushing down the voices threatening to drag her under, she composed herself. Grabbing her backpack and helmet, she quickly made her way to the conference room, her steps echoing in the empty hallway. With each passing moment, her hope and anxiety grew, her mind racing.
She reached the conference room door, and took a deep breath, steading herself before pushing it open. But it wasn’t Scorpion who waited for her inside.
Gunnar and Dennis turned in unison to face her, dressed in matching black suits.
“Oh, it’s you guys,” she mumbled, realizing how much she had hoped to see Scorpion.
Her disappointment showed on her face, but she pushed it aside, steeling herself for whatever news Gunnar and Dennis had to deliver. Their presence here meant that something was off, something that made them seek her out. Gunnar cleared his throat.
“We need to talk,” he said, his words cutting through the air.
Her heart skipped a beat, her pulse quickening. She readied herself for the worst as she stepped to a chair across from them, bracing her hands on the backrest.
“What’s going on?” she asked, but Gunnar shook his head.
“Not here.” The look in his eyes made her stop without questioning.
“Will you come for a ride with us?” Dennis asked, his face sincere, but she didn’t buy it.
“Why not here?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
They could be leading her into a trap. She would have done the same thing if she were in Scorpion’s shoes.
“Because Scorpion knows where you work,” Gunnar drawled, and she swore it was out of boredom. “And if he catches us here against his direct orders, he’d kill us.” There was no amusement in his eyes, no sign of exaggeration.
She nodded as Gunnar’s words hit a nerve. She didn’t know why the fuck she had hoped Scorpion would want to talk this out. Settling scores was currency in the underworld, and if he felt anything close to how she felt about Jonathan… She didn’t allow herself to finish the thought.
“Can we go for a drive?”
“Follow me,” she said, turning on her heel and heading for the door.
She made it all the way to the parking lot without looking over her shoulder. Getting onto her bike, she tore out into the street. When she passed the front of the building, Dennis and Gunnar fell into gear behind her, flanking her.
This was sure to be a trap, but she didn’t care. She needed answers, and she needed Scorpion to see reason or at least allow her to explain her side of the story.
As they rode through the streets, her mind raced with every possible scenario, her grip on the handlebars tight with determination. The sound of their engines roared through the cool afternoon air as they weaved through traffic, heading toward the outskirts of town.
She led them to Mount Loretto Beach, a place where she often went when the voices became too much. As they parked their bikes and walked out to the end of the pier, the sound of water surrounded them, a soothing rhythm that masked the tension simmering beneath the surface.
Gunnar and Dennis followed her lead, their footsteps echoing against concrete surface as they reached the edge, the ocean stretching out around them in all its glory.
She turned to face them, the salt-laden breeze tousling her hair as she met their. Dennis appeared small beside Gunnar’s imposing figure. With his arms folded across his chest, he exuded an aura of dominance that seemed to fill the vast open space around them.
In silence, they absorbed their surroundings, each lost in their own thoughts for a moment.
“So, here’s the thing,” Gunnar began, his tone matter-of-fact. “Scorpion’s out for blood. He’s hell-bent on avenging his brother’s death.”
There was no sugarcoating it. Gunnar’s words hit like a cold, hard punch, delivered with the bluntness of a hammer blow. Poison couldn’t recall encountering someone as emotionally detached as him. He might as well have been reciting the day’s weather forecast.
Tears welled up in her eyes, but she clenched her fists, determined to hold them back. She wouldn’t allow herself to appear weak in front of these men. She refused to succumb to their scrutiny, refusing to let them see her vulnerable.
“So, Scorpion is going to try and kill me,” she stated flatly.
Something inside her shattered, a hope she didn’t know she had. She knew this was coming, but a small part had hoped that it wouldn’t.
Dennis turned to Gunnar, directing his words as if Poison weren’t even present.
“But I doubt he’d go through with it,” he said, nodding toward her to emphasize his point. “He’s got a soft spot for her. That’s unusual for Scorpion, and you know it.”
Gunnar shook his head in disagreement.
“Den, you know how he gets. His anger will drive him to unspeakable things. Then there’s no telling what he will do or at what he will stop.”
“You guys know I’m still here, right?” she interjected, trying to draw their attention.
For a moment, it seemed as if they had forgotten her presence entirely. Gunnar turned to her and gave her a once-over.
“Well, you might as well know what you’re up against,” He shrugged. “When Scorpion gets a thing in his head, it’s as if he becomes someone completely different. He won’t stop until he has succeeded,” Gunnar explained, showing no trace of emotion.
Fucking cold reptile.
Dennis, however, visibly shuddered. The mere mention of Phillip in such a state seemed to unsettle him deeply, a sentiment he confirmed with his words.
“He scares me when he’s like that, Poison. Pure evil,” he admitted.
“So, what should I do?” Her frustration mounted, snuffing out the small embers of fear as she observed their utter incompetence. “I won’t fight him. I just won’t.” Her words dripped with sheer determination. “Should I talk to him?”
Dennis stared at her, visibly frightened, while Gunnar gazed at her as if she had completely lost her mind. Both looked as if she had just confessed to being a bloodthirsty, virgin-hunting vampire or something equally absurd.
“Definitely not!” Gunnar exclaimed, with the most emotion he had shown so far. “Are you mad, woman? Unless you have a death wish, you have to stay out of his way.”
“As soon as I can, I’ll try to talk some sense into him, but Dennis is right. Scorpion does like you. Heaven knows why. No offense.” Gunnar’s gaze swept over her, assessing her from head to toe. “But, last night came as a huge shock to him. Hell, it was a shock to us all,” he continued. “Personally, I thought you had to be a well-experienced pro to have killed Double R. None of our crew knows who you are, and those who did were killed. So, we would never have guessed that you were a chick. That’s why your name sounded familiar to me when we met. I heard it somewhere before. I just couldn’t place it.”
Poison had to restrain herself from smacking the stony expression right off his face.
Just as her frustration rose to a boiling point, Dennis threw a curveball that caught her off guard. Out of nowhere, he turned to her with a question that made her pause mid-thought.
“Why did a girl like you start fighting? I mean, no offense or anything, but you seem like you have years of experience in the ring.”
It took her a moment to collect herself, her chin figuratively hitting the floor at Dennis’s unexpected inquiry. She drew in a deep breath, steadying herself before responding.
“Not a girl anymore, but my brother was a streetfighter. He led the Silver Serpents before me,” she began, her voice softening as she gazed out at the sea, lost in the memories.
“He was killed by Reaper.”
A moment of silence hung in the air, Dennis’s next words barely registering in her mind.
“That’s rough.”
“I knelt beside my brother’s body and swore to Reaper that I would kill him, even if it meant my own life,” she recounted, regret seeping in.
“I’ve been fighting for just over fifteen years, but my brother started teaching me at a very young age. He was just a year older, but he used to do martial arts since I could remember. He even had a sponsor that sent him training all over the place.”
“And exactly how many have you killed?” Gunnar’s impressed tone grated on her nerves, reigniting her frustration.
“I stopped counting!” she snapped.
That made him shut up, but remorse seeped through her armor.
“I’ve played God with so many lives. I had no right to do it,” she confessed, her armor momentarily pierced. “I wish I could turn back time and undo what I’ve done, but I made a promise. I guess I understand exactly how Scorpion feels. The hatred bottled up inside you is all-consuming. You crave revenge, and you won’t stop until retaliation prevails.”
“Be that as it may,” Gunnar shrugged, unfazed. “Scorpion is going to try and kill you. Best you can do is hide until we manage to calm him down.”
A surge of pure fury coursed through her veins once more. This man had a knack for igniting her anger in an instant.
“I refuse to hide! Running away from a problem isn’t my style, but I won’t engage in a fight either. If it comes down to it, I’ll defend myself,” she declared, her voice firm with resolve.
She took a deep breath, attempting to rein in her emotions, and offered a nod to them.
“Listen, guys. I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.” With those words, she turned on her heel and strode back toward dry land.
However, Dennis trailed closely behind, his hand lightly gripping her arm to capture her attention. Turning to face him, she met his gaze as he studied her intently. His mahogany eyes seemed to penetrate her soul, and she felt a flicker of appreciation for his genuine concern. Slowly, he released her arm, letting it fall to his side.
“Need us to drive you home?” he inquired softly, his sincerity apparent in his voice.
Dear Dennis, always so earnest.
“No, thanks. I’ve got a few other stops to make,” she replied, offering him a small smile of gratitude.
He nodded understandingly, recognizing her need to be alone.
“Take care, Poison,” he said as she turned away.