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At the mention of me, I wrap my arms around my middle and pull my legs up under me. I knew they—or at leasthe—was there for me, but what does he mean Gray stole me? I never belonged to anyone until my dad gave me to the Kings.
Gray bares his teeth. “Is that the best you got?” he asks in a deceptively soft tone that doesn’t portray the anger I know he’s holding in. “Why don’t you tell me something useful, and I’ll consider making you more comfortable.”
I’m surprised when Gray and Brick continue trading insults without anything else happening. When he warned me that joining him down here wasn’t a good idea, this was the furthest thing from my mind.
“Why are they just talking?” I ask Cain.
He smiles at me in a way that makes it clear I should already know the answer. “Because of you,” he says without any of his dramatic flair. “Gray doesn’t want to spook you, so he’s taking it slow. That’s why I stopped eating my popcorn, this is so not a popcorn moment.”
Oh… yeah, now I feel rather stupid for not figuring it out sooner. Of course, Gray is torn between not wanting to scare me, and not letting his club down.
Since I promised him that I wouldn’t speak up or get involved I can’t even say anything. Unless, I mean, my promise was more geared toward not undermining him, I never said anything about cheering him on.
I turn my head toward Cain who’s watching me intently. “He’ll never get answers this way, will he?” I murmur, and Cain immediately shakes his head. “Would it be best if I leave?”
Though I really don’t want to leave, I’ll do it if it means Gray can get the answers he needs both for himself, the club, and hell, even for me. But when Cain shakes his head again, I know what I need to do.
Hardening my voice, I call out, “Gray.” Then I wait for him to look at me. “Show him what the Kings’ hospitality is like.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” Cain cackles, fist pumping the air.
Gray doesn’t answer, he doesn’t need to. I see the way the corners of his lips turn upward, his way of letting me know he’s received my message loud and clear.
“You came for what’s mine,” he barks at Brick. “You specifically looked for her, and I want to know why.”
When Brick remains quiet, Gray lifts a remote control and stabs at the buttons causing the cross to lower until the two men are almost at eye-level.
Psychologically it makes sense for the two of them to be on the same level, or even having Brick lower than Gray. As long as he’s higher up, his brain will tell him he has the higher ground, thus giving him a false sense of security. If they’re on the same level, his brain will tell him they’re even. But if he’s lower… well, that’s pretty damn self-explanatory.
“Suit yourself,” Gray says with a shrug.
Then he moves so quickly, I don’t even see the punch coming. But boy, do I hear it. Something crunches, and Brick’s head snaps violently to the side.
“That’s one,” Cain calls out while pulling a fucking whistle from his jeans pocket.
Gray systematically rains punches down on Brick’s face and body. Not stopping until his breathing is labored, and his entire body is shaking. Whether it’s from excitement or strain, I don’t know.
“Got anything to say now?” Gray asks.
Brick’s head is hanging to the side, blood flowing freely from his mouth and nose. Fuck, I even think I spot a few teeth on the floor.
“I-is that a-all y-you got?” he stammers.
Though there’s no heat in his voice, there’s plenty in his swollen eyes. And it quickly becomes clear to me that this guy isn’t even close to being broken.
I barely notice my own hand moving to my eye that’s still swollen. I wince as my fingers prod the tender, discolored skin. Jesus. How the hell can he take all those punches, and I can barely take my own touch?
Gray bares his teeth in an intimidating smile. “I do love a good challenge, Brick.” He shakes his head and snorts derisively. “Sadly for you, you’re not a fucking challenge at all. Just some pathetic guy who gets off on hurting women because no one in their right mind would ever willingly spread their legs for you.”
The words cause my breath to hitch. If I’m not mistaken, this means the son of a bitch has a track record of raping and hurting women. My stomach roils at the implication, and I feel sick to my core as thoughts of Gunner’s secret shit come to the forefront of my mind.
“Easy to be cocky when you’re not the one who’s bound,” Brick wheezes.
With a shrug, Gray turns away from the Reaper and picks a knife from the steel table. “Are you sure you don’t want to volunteer any information? I really hope you’re going to say no so we can do this the hard way. But since my girl is watching, I have to at least ask. It’s just good manners.”
Brick doesn’t say anything, but his eyes widen as Gray comes closer. Without warning he presses the blade to Brick’s pec, twisting it until the tip is embedded in his skin.
“Motherfucker!” the Reaper roars.
