Page 9 of Depraved

CHAPTER THREE

GRANITE

There was something about the darkness that soothed me. Even as a boy, I preferred the dark. Unlike my little brother, I never asked for a light to be kept on while I fell asleep. The black of night didn’t scare me. Shadows never bothered me. Maybe it was because I felt like a shadow myself. I didn’t know. And I never felt the need to get psychoanalyzed. What the fuck could a white jacket tell me about myself that I didn’t already know?

Psychopath.

Sadist.

Criminal.

Immoral fucker.

I knew all this shit, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass. If I did, I wouldn’t have such a long list of character flaws, now, would I?

I took a long, deep drag of my cigarette, the tiny coal flickering in the dark as I inhaled. The only other light in the room was the full moon shining in through the window. It fell perfectly over her small frame as she lay on the bed, her face toward me.

She seemed peaceful, blissfully unaware of how her life was about to change. But once she opened those pretty blue eyes of hers, she’d know. She’d remember what happened, and she’d know her well-manicured life would exist no more, tainted and ruined by blood and metal.

I’d be lying if I said it didn’t excite me, which was why I was sitting in this room like a fucking vampire in the dark. I wanted to look into her eyes once she realized what was happening.

There was a knock on the door, and I cursed under my breath, putting out the cigarette, downing my beer, and getting up from the chair.

I swung open the door. “What?”

Dutch cocked a brow. “She awake?”

“Not yet.” I glanced over my shoulder at the girl on the bed before walking out and closing the door behind me, then focusing my attention back on Dutch. “What’s up?”

“Someone called the police, claiming to have heard gunshots in the area while all this went down.”

“Fuck.” I pulled my hand through my hair. “Who was on duty?”

“Lucky for us, a few detectives on our payroll. So, hopefully, nothing will come of it. Dude, what happened out there?”

“It didn’t go quite as planned.”

“Yeah, no shit.” Dutch seemed anxious and confused—two emotions that could send a grown-ass man reeling.

“Goddammit.” I felt like planting my fist through the fucking drywall. “I didn’t count on that motherfucking prospect having balls.”

Dutch frowned. “Does anything work out the way we planned around here? Ever?”

I sighed. “Guess not.”

Dutch’s worried look settled a little. “You going to kick his ass?”

“I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with my brother.”

“Just give me a heads up before you do.” Dutch’s lips curved at the edges. “I want to buy front row tickets.”

I let out a laugh thinking about how much shit Dutch and I gave Onyx when he was younger. Poor bastard never caught a break whenever we were around.

I pulled out another cigarette, tapping the filter on the packet before placing it between my lips. “Where is my brother?”

“He’s having a beer downstairs.”

I lit the cigarette then blew out a cloud of smoke, not caring that Dutch was at the receiving end. “Good. I’ll deal with him later.”