5
PRESTON
So I didn’t mean to come here tonight.
Or at all, really.
Where the fuck is this place, even?
The Wolves’ arena, that’s where. The last place I should’ve driven my ass to after the beating from Lenin per my dearpapa’s orders.
Every time I screw up in epic proportions, I have to learn the lesson.
Or, like, be punished properly.
Brought down a peg or two.
Usually, I’ll drive around recklessly, nearly crash my car, or try to join a hunt with members of Vencor.
As a senior member, I don’t really have to kill anymore, but that rule can go fuck itself right the fuck off. The only saving grace of Vencor is the killing.
Or, more accurately, the hunting.
But the more we’ve progressed up Vencor’s ladder, the less fun it’s become. It’s more supervision and less action at this stage.
After we graduate, Kane, Jude, and I will go through the final trial to become Founders. A position that’s only attainable by being born within one of the four founding families.
Yay me, I guess.
Does that mean we’ll turn into our fathers?
Gag.I just gave myself the biggest cringe with that thought.
Point is, I should’ve joined some members on a hunt or gone to annoy Jude and Kane.
But no, the me from roughly an hour ago considered that prospect ludicrous. Go to Kane and Jude, who’ll either question me about my clusterfuck of a performance or watch me closely as if I’m about to break?
No, thanks,said my genius brain as he led us right to the rat town that smells of piss, vomit, and drugs.
This shithole is a health hazard, I’m telling you.
But it’s also the location where my sweet revenge against Osborn will take place.
He’s the reason I screwed up tonight, got told off by Dad, and got beaten up by Lenin.
My chest rattles a bit when I breathe due to that brute’s hit, but the painkillers mixed with good ole Jack Daniels help.
Mostly because I’m finally numb.
Not numb enough to not go through with my revenge, though, because that’s exactly what I’ve done.
Say hello, Osborn’s broken sticks.They’re not even high-end, except for one, but they’re gone now, and the peasant has no lucky stick.
Oops.
That was so mean. I’d do it all over again.
But that decision brought me here, to this moment, with Osborn’s thick fingers in my hair and my body angled back in a less-than-ideal position.
