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“I’ve not finished—”
“So hurry the fuck up,” I snap, already disliking the arrogant bastard. The fucker should watch his step, I’m still buzzing from last night’s kill. Lingering violence ripples beneath my skin and the edgy feeling after a kill remains. Normally I’d fuck a woman to rid myself of the restless energy, but I’m up for feeding the violence if that’s the way this is gonna go down.
“Your crew,” he continues, not in the least bit concerned, “Is headed up by Jeb Bernard. Who, a few months ago, took over what was left of the Hackney’s Hackers crew, otherwise known as the HH crew. A crew made up mostly ofkids. I think their youngest member is sixteen. Wait,youryoungest member is sixteen given they’re Skins now too.”
The accusation and judgement in his eyes pisses me the fuck off. I’m well aware that the youngest kid in the Skins is sixteen, I don’t need him to remind me of that fact. “And your point is?”
But the smug bastard ignores my question and looks at Dax instead. “And you’re Dax, an old friend of Eastern’s. You know Asia too, and a couple years back you asked her to draw some graffiti art for a girl you once hung out with. Penelope Scott, I believe that’s her name? She must’ve been very special to you?”
At the mention of her name I lose the last shred of patience I was holding onto. “What the fuck is this exactly?” I snarl, slamming my clenched fist on the table. My reaction is loud enough to warrant looks from several of the drunk patrons who, wisely, look away when I tell them to fuck off.
“I’ll get to the point shortly.” He smirks and I snap, launching myself across the table at him. Lucky for the prick, Dax gets to me before I can knock that smirk off his face.
“Sit the fuck down,” Dax orders, getting in my face.
“Are you tellingmewhat to do?” I snarl, my nose pressed against his. Me and Dax have fought before over the years, but never over something like this. I don’t like his fucking attitude. Then again, of all the Breakers, Dax has always challenged my decisions. It’s why, despite it all, I respect and love the fucker. He reminds me that I’m not impenetrable, and he reels me in when it’s warranted.
“Come on, man. Sit down and hear him out,” Dax says once he realises I’m not gonna take this any further.
Straightening up my jacket, I take a seat. “Go on,” I say calmly, as though this meeting wasn’t about to go to shit. What can I say, I’m fucking unpredictable like that?
“Zayn is the nephew of Jeb Bernard and York is quite the fighter in the ring. Like Dax, he’s never lost a fight—”
“All of this is common knowledge on the street. So if you think I’m impressed you’re sadly mistaken.”
“But that’s not the best part. I also happen to know that the four of you have been putting money away for years now, and you’ve built up quite a small fortune. All of it blood money, of course, but a tidy sum, nonetheless. Lately you’ve been looking at properties overseas, far, far away from London and, more importantly, out of reach of the Skins.”
“How the—” I start, only for the fucker to interrupt me again.
“I also know you’ve heard of Camden, Sonny and Ford given Eastern’s their best friend. As you know Camden was once the leader of the HH crew until he decided to change his life for the better and get the fuck out for good. Alongside my brothers and some other friends, I helped him do that. We helped the five of them get the fuck out and start fresh somewhere new.”
“Ohhhh, so this is some kind of intervention?” I laugh, rolling my eyes. “You found out we put away money and want a fuckingholiday homeand decide we want out? Are you a closet missionary or something? Did you find Jesus in your climb up the rich ladder and now want to absolve your past sins by helping thesinful?” I laugh, shaking my head at the absurdity of it, not to mention the fucking audacity. How the fuck he found out about our money or our plans is beyond me. It’s also a big fucking worry because the dickhead is right, we do want out. But I thought we’d been careful.
Dax snorts at my snide remark to cover his own shock, but if he thinks he’s getting in my good graces just because he hasn’t told me to shut the fuck up again, he’s got another thing coming. Ignoring him, I pull out my gun—which until now has been tucked discreetly into the back of my jeans—place it on the table and rest my finger against the trigger. “Lucky for you today I’m feeling generous, so I’ll give you a piece of advice, unless you want to do business with theSkins, I suggest you take your manicured hands and couple hundred-pound hairdo and get the fuck out of my face before I splatter yours against the wall for digging into our personal shit.”
“Woah,” Dax exclaims, the smile falling from his face as he places his hand on my arm. He’s worried. He fucking should be. I could kill this motherfucker without so much as flinching.
“Xeno, don’t start something here… This is on me. I agreed to meet Hudson.”
“You know as well as I do that I don’t start shit, I justendit.”
“Just hear him out. That’s all I’m asking,” Dax says, eying the gun and, more specifically, my finger on the trigger.
I smile slowly. “Fine. I don’t much feel like putting a bullet in all these drunk motherfuckers heads anyway. Which is what I’d have to do if I put a bullet in your brain,” I casually remark, releasing my finger from the trigger and clicking on the safety before tucking the gun away.
Hudson watches me with a confidence that pisses me off. He’s got balls of steel, I’ll give him that. I lean back in my chair, keeping eye contact with him. “You’re quite an interesting man,Hud.”
“Hudson,” he corrects me, folding his arms across his chest and holding my gaze like a true fucking pro. If he wasn’t such an arrogant cunt, I could like him. “Tell me what you think you know.” And even though I’ve just pulled a gun on him, there’s a calmness that settles across his features that I begrudgingly respect. Anyone else would’ve shit themselves at the sight of a gun. He didn’t even flinch.
“I know you’re some hotshot millionaire. I know you once lived in a care home with your business partners because your parents were all worthless pieces of shit. I know you now live in some fuck-off, great big house in the suburbs just outside of London with your two point four kids, and yourbrothers. Oh, and the most exciting part is that you and your brothersallfuck the same woman—”
Hudson slams his palm against the table, his calm facade slipping at the mention of his family. The look he’s giving me now tells me that, despite appearances, Hudson ain’t so different from the rest of us. You can take the kid out of the street but you sure as fuck can’t take the street out of the kid. We’re loyal to a fault and disrespecting people we care about is a cardinal sin. Looks like I just found his Achilles heel. I file that away should I ever need it.
“Do not speak of my wife or my kids. Do not fucking mention them again—” Hudson says darkly, his lip curling up over his teeth as a little of the smooth calm he came in with disappears and is replaced with someone I think I could admire. You don’t get to be where he is without having balls of fucking steel, street smarts and intelligence to match. He’s what we could’ve been if we hadn’t joined the fucking Skins, and that pisses me the fuck off.
“Fair enough,” I shrug, enjoying the fact I’ve made a dent in his cool exterior. I can tell he’s pissed off at himself for reacting. He recovers quickly though. “So can we stop with the bullshit now and get to the fucking point. I got shit to do, and a woman to fuck.”
Hudson shakes off his anger enough to nod tightly. “This is really very simple. I need your help.”
