The pulsating bass of the club’s music spilled out into the street as we parked our bikes out front and made our way inside. Kane stayed in the car, Evie keeping him company as they kept a close eye on our bikes.
The lights inside were dim, a haze of neon lights and swirling smoke coating us, the pulse of the music reverberating through me. As we pushed through the crowd, a pretty girl with long, dark hair and a tight dress stepped in front of me, blocking my path. Her eyes were bright with interest as she smiled up at me.
“Hey there. Want to get a drink?” she asked, her voice dripping with flirtation.
I glanced down, barely registering her words. For a split second, an image of Regan flashed through my mind—her eyes, her smile, the way she kept trying to be rebellious. I shook my head, trying to dislodge the horrible thought.
“Not interested,” I said, stepping around the girl.
She huffed, stepping closer.“We could go dance instead.”
“Still not interested,” I said, trying to step around her again. The group had disappeared in front of me as soon as she stopped me, and I hoped they were already grabbing the guy. I liked going out usually, but not tonight. I had no reason to be somewhere that would constantly remind me of my attraction to Cameron Fletcher’s daughter.
The bad taste in my mouth almost made me want to lean down and take this girl up on her offer, but I didn’t. I didn’t like how she looked just enough like Regan to remind me of her.
The guys came back down, one half-limp man being brought out with them.
“Rook, you coming?” Hero called out.
“Yeah, right behind you,” I replied, pushing Regan out of my mind. There would be no time for distractions.
I followed them, my focus sharp again, despite the unexpected intrusion of Regan in my thoughts. We had a job to do, and I couldn’t afford to let anything—or anyone—get in the way.
The garage was lit up bright inside tonight. We had left the door shut tight, the scent of blood, sweat, and gasoline filling my nostrils and making my nose scrunch. The guy strapped to the chair in the center didn’t seem to mind, though. Hero stepped forward, the cruel grin on his face making the guy squirm more.
Hero reached out, grabbing his pinky finger and twisting until bones crunched in his palm. I grabbed for the other hand, choosing his pointer finger instead.
“Why a different finger?” Hero asked with a frown. “I don’t like them not matching.”
“Why the pinky? This one is more annoying if it’s broken.”
“Why would he care which fingers are useful if he will be dead before he can use them again?” Hero asked. The man screamed against his gag, and I smacked the back of his head.
“Tell us where you are hoarding millions of dollars’ worth of drugs, and we let you go,” I said. Our job would be getting him to reveal where his boss hid the drugs he stole from another drug lord, but my heart just wasn’t in it today.
I still picked up the pliers, shoving a deep socket into the guy’s mouth to force it open before getting a good grip on his front tooth and pulling.
We ran our own business in a lot of different ways, from playing messenger between bigger operations, to dipping our hands into gambling and counterfeit parts, but sometimes we were middlemen. The men in the middle of bigger businessmen when they couldn’t play nice for five minutes. From finding out information to selling it, it worked perfectly for us. We made the money and never had a trail of evidence leading in our direction.
My mind wasn’t here, though.
My mind felt stuck on Cameron Fletcher. The man I hated more than anyone, the one who burned my life to the ground and walked away with everything he wanted. There were no consequences for the terrible things he had done and continued to do.
Ten years ago, we had everything. My family wasn’t anywhere comparable to the Fletchers, but we had everything we wanted and needed. Until one day, the business took a hit, and Cameron had been suddenly there to save us. My dad signed a partnership with Cameron with the hopes it would all be restored. They were art dealers, and I had come to learn Cameron was a fan of stealing art and selling it on the black market. What better way to do that than seeking out my parentsand becoming their partner? But when my dad wouldn’t give in to smuggling art through his business, Cameron stole it.
He stole their lives first. It made it easier to take over the business you owned with your partner when the partner suddenly went up in literal flames.
Everything we owned had been signed to Cameron before my parents’ deaths, and he collected the moment he could. He had somehow even found a way to sway our custody since we were minors, and Evie and I had been shipped out of town before the funeral even took place.
Now I found out the girl I’d been chasing around and trying to find ended up being his daughter? The thought of it made me sick, my jaw clenching as my stomach flipped. I put my lips on his fucking daughter and liked it?
I should cut off my own lips for it. It felt like a betrayal to myself, my parents, even Evie.
I let Hero take over, and he seemed happy to step up. He threw a punch, more bones cracking and popping beneath his hand, as I headed over to the couch we had against the wall.
“What’s up?” Aiden asked, dropping on the couch next to me. “Don’t like the view?”
“The view being a man getting tortured to death? It’s great, but I have other things on my mind.”
