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Hell, for all we know, he offered her up. Fucker. If I could get away with taking his ass out, I would. Because in my opinion he was as responsible as the Bloody Scorpions. If he hadn’t been such a dickwad, Jasmine would’ve been safe at her house and not staying at the clubhouse. Though I knew she’d done her best to protect Angel’s son.

If my brothers thought Angel wanted to kill his father and the fuckers he owed money to, they would be shocked at the train of my thoughts. Torture wouldn’t be nearly enough. I wanted to peel their skin off and rip their hearts out while they were alive to squeeze the last beat from the bloody organ.

“I’m good,” I lied. Seeing it for what it was, he snorted.

Since Jasmine had come to stay at the clubhouse, I’d been crawling out of my skin. After what had happened to her, I’d been in agony. Helpless to do a damn thing, I kept my distance, though my body fought it with every molecule in my makeup.

The need to claim her burned in my veins. No matter how pussy-whipped it made me sound, I knew she was the half I needed to be whole. Without her I was a shell—a broken man. Yet, her brother was one of my best friends. A friend whose secrets I’d seen. Secrets that would probably horrify him if he found out I knew.

Not that I’d tell anyone—they weren’t my stories to tell. I kept everything to myself. I may be a lot of things, but I was a goddamn loyal brother.

When Jasmine had been abducted along with Angel’s son and Lynda, I wanted to kill the people responsible with my bare hands. I’d been robbed of the satisfaction that night. It left me feeling like a junkyard dog at the end of its chain, snapping its teeth in frustration. The things she had endured I could only imagine.

I wasn’t sure which was worse, the things I imagined or what actually happened.

Though he’d never admit it, I think that’s why Venom took pity on me and assigned me to their assassination.

Watching Jasmine decline was fucking killing me. Anger seeped from my pores, mixing with the helplessness I was drowning in. Fury burned within me every fucking minute of every fucking day. It was barely after lunchtime, and I was halfway to drunk because I couldn’t function most of the time. I’d need to sober up by Monday afternoon for work, and that’s all that mattered.

“Angel!” Venom yelled as he hauled ass into the common area and headed to the door. “Jigsaw’s coming in, and we need you! It’s Roscoe. Prospect! Get the gate!”

The prospect was over the bar and out the door before I could blink. Angel immediately left his beer sitting and raced after our president.

My heart stopped. Roscoe and Jigsaw had taken the women shopping. Jasmine had gone along at Korrie’s urging. If Roscoe was hurt, how were the women?

Jerking on a pair of thin leather gloves, I scrambled off my seat and ran after them. I burst outside with my brothers. The prospect was rolling the gate open. Jigsaw came flying in and screeched to a halt.

“Sorry about the mess, bossman,” Jigsaw said to Venom with a smirk, and I swear to fuck my jaw almost hit the ground. Loralei had bailed out of the back seat and into Venom’s arms. Blood was splattered on the leg of her jeans. Stunned silence briefly ensued before Venom demanded to know who the fuck was in the back seat with Loralei. Whoever the guy was, he was fucking eviscerated—I’m talking guts lying on the floor of the SUV.

Jigsaw was nuts. Certifiably insane, if a man’s innards splattered all over the floor was “a mess.”

The rest of what he said was mere background noise as I ripped the door open and carefully lifted Jasmine out of the front seat. I brought her to the front of the vehicle, set her on her feet, and cradled her pale face in my gloved hands.

“Jazz, look at me.” My words were spoken softly and as calmly as I could manage. She didn’t respond well to chaos and yelling. Hell, she didn’t respond well to anything anymore, and it was shredding my soul.

Reluctantly, her haunted amber eyes rose to lock with mine. The lighter gold furrow around her pupil had almost disappeared, while the brown ring around the outside seemed near black. The fiery burst of striations seemed to glow as tears filled them.

“Oh, baby,” I whispered before I wrapped my arms around her and pressed her cheek to my chest. Her body shuddered as her hands desperately clutched the side of my shirt under my cut.

For the last three years, Jasmine and I had foolishly danced around each other, both of us denying the fact that we felt like half our soul was missing. I’d tried to drown the pain in booze, drugs, work, and women, but it didn’t work. It stopped doing jack shit for me and left me a vacant husk of myself.

Every time Angel had bitched about some asshole she was dating, I wanted to go berserk and destroy anything in my path. The thought of another man’s hands on what was mine made me insanely violent and full of rage. Yet, I couldn’t have her.

With Jasmine living under the same roof as me, I tried my best to avoid her. But I was a moth, and she was the flame. Yet, my sad truth was that I’d willingly burn for her if she’d let me.

“I’m so tired of being scared, Nico,” she said with a sad tremor to her melodic voice. “I can barely function. I want my life back.” She cried into my chest. Not having a good response, my eyes fell shut as I held her in silence.

When I opened them, I found Venom’s gaze locked on me. Shit.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. Angel was staring at me with the muscle in his jaw jumping.

Fucking hell.

I carefully got Jasmine situated with the women when Venom called for all hands on deck with Roscoe.

Roscoe “woke up” a few hours later, but he refused to tell anyone exactly how he’d healed himself or what his story was. Voodoo hadn’t gotten anything from throwing his bones, and I wasn’t touching the guy again. Whatever the fuck he was, had some serious energy. So much so that it damn near blinded me to see it. That was more than some guy with a gift.

When I left the infirmary, I sensed Angel right as he spun me around and pinned me to the wall.

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