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8
Pen
Isilently follow York through the warehouse with Dax at my back, my feet are still bare and sore from dancing, my resolve to remain strong sagging with every step. I can’t even bring myself to look at the gangs seated at the tables we pass by, though I’m aware of them watching us. I can barely see straight and if I don’t get out into the fresh air soon, I might just pass out. That’s why I don’t notice Malik stepping towards me until it’s too late.
“Stopy Plomieniach,it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, reaching for me.
“Back the fuck off,” Dax growls, stepping up beside me, and cutting off his ability to touch me.
Malik laughs, dismissing Dax as though he’s a mere trifling boy who has no power to do him any harm. That pisses me off, Dax too given his snarl. Dax and I might not be friends but that doesn’t mean to say I like the idea of someone putting him down. It’s a sore point for both of us having lived with parents who treated their children like shit.
“Mr Brov,” York says, holding his hand out. “On behalf of the Skins, I’d like to extend the hand of friendship. We got off to a bad start.”
“The fuck?!” Dax exclaims, taking the words right out of my mouth. We both glare at York who is now flanking my left side whilst Dax is on my right, half his body in front of mine. York doesn’t pay us any attention, instead focusing on Malik.
“I see we have someone with manners. I respect that,” Malik replies, canting his head at York and gripping his proffered hand in a firm shake before letting it go.
“Manners?Respect? You touched what isn’t yours, motherfucker. Don’t talk to me about respect!” Dax interjects. My heart sinks. I really, really don’t have the energy for this.
“Careful,chlopak, you’re playing with the real men now.”
“You fucking cu—”
I can’t help it, I reach for Dax, my fingers curling around his palm. He flinches at my touch, but it has the desired effect and his cuss falls short. Malik’s bodyguards bristle at the insult, but Malik isn’t perturbed. He smiles slowly, leisurely.
“I’ve been called many things to my face,chlopak, but a cunt actually isn’t one of them. Though I am partial to one…” he winks at me, before smiling at Dax. My skin runs cold.
“You best move out of my way,cunt, because I ain’t in the mood,” Dax snarls, rising to the bait.
“Mr Brov, I think we should discuss business another time,” York interjects firmly, flicking his gaze at me. “Without an audience.” He makes a point at looking around the warehouse whilst I suck in a sharp breath at York’s insinuation. How dare he! How dare he talk about me like I’m a goddamn business transaction! Automatically I pull my fingers away from Dax, but he grabs them, squeezing tightly before rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. It’s a reassuring hold, and it confuses me, but it works to deflate my indignation. I don’t comment and I don’t pull away.
Malik rips his gaze away from Dax and arches a brow at York. “I see not everyone is willing to protect thispiekna tancerka? If she were mine—”
“We’ll take this up at another time,yes?” York insists, folding his arms across his chest indicating with his body that this conversation is over.
“I look forward to hearing from you,” Malik concedes, dropping his gaze, his cobalt eyes washing over me. “You areexquisite. I am a man who appreciates the beauty in all things. A dancer like you should be revered, treasured,kept.”
With that he turns on his heel, his bodyguards following closely behind him and leaving me trembling in his wake. There’s no doubt he’s a certifiable madman. My psycho radar is going crazy right about now. Malik Brov is right up there with my brother in the world of cray-cray.
“Motherfucking, bastard, cunt!” Dax swears under his breath before gripping my hand and striding off. I have to jog to keep up with him. My feet ache with every step.
The second we step out into the darkened car park, Dax drops my hand as though burnt, rips off his mask and gloves and casts them aside. The cut above his brow weeps a little, blood trickling from the wound. His cheek is bruised and swollen, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Fucking joke these masks. You can all go and fuck yourselves if you think I’m wearing this bastard thing again,” Dax adds darkly.
“Keep your fucking voice down and get Pen in the damn car before you get us all killed!” York seethes, turning on him.
“Fuck off! What was all that ‘let’s do business’bullshit? Are you kidding me right now? We don’t do business with men who are unhinged.”
I can’t help it. I laugh. Does he not realise whohefucking works for?
York rips off his mask, his white blonde hair sticking up in a sweaty mess as he shoves his hand against Dax’s chest. “You don’t need to fucking tell me who we’re dealing with.Iwasn’t the one with a hand around the man’s goddamn throat! Do you have a fucking death wish, you prick? You put us all in danger! I was just trying to de-escalate the situation.”
Dax pushes York back. “Did you not see what he did? Did you not fucking see what he did toKid?!” he bellows, a vein popping in his forehead as he points at me. The nervous laughter rising up my throat is swallowed back down as I draw in a breath. His old nickname for me makes my heart squeeze in pain. Did he just refer to me as Kid? What does that even mean? Was it a slip of the tongue? He hasn’t called me that since returning.
“Dax…?” I question, my voice croaking.
“Get in the goddamn car!” he snaps at me, his lips pulling over his teeth in a feral snarl as he pulls a key fob from his pocket and presses a button. A dark grey Bentley parked not too far away from where we’re standing, unlocks. Its headlights turn on, illuminating the three of us in a puddle of light.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” I shout back.
