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Jace didn’t have to be told twice. As he rose to his feet, grabbing the crutches, he offered his uncle a respectable nod and left.
He was already gone when I walked out, and as I looked ahead, spotting him, he was booking it on those crutches. He made it as far as the stage’s rear before he froze. There was an endless pool of emotions warring it out on his face when he turned to stare back at me.
“What?” I called out to him, my brows pinched. “What is it?”
I wandered in his direction. My breath stammered, and I couldn’t help but release a long, low curse as I took in the horde of Outlaws occupying the lobby.
My brain had already counted fifteen affiliates and was still calculating. The bartenders, waitresses, and bouncers were nowhere in sight.
A small group of five were behind the bar plucking out bottles and glasses and passing them off to their fellow crew members, who eagerly accepted the offerings and scattered off to claim a table. On the far-left side towards VIP, there was another group of Outlaws rummaging through that bar. After taking another moment to readjust my calculations, including Jace and myself, my final estimate came up to forty Outlaws in all.
Damien Reyez rarely called the whole crew together unless it was for something extremely pivotal. I’d been with that horrendous man the past two to three days now trying to do small, simple shit that I’d hoped would get me back in his good graces and he’d never, not once mentioned anything about gathering all Outlaws for a powwow. I had no idea what the hell was going on here, but I’d been undercover long enough to know what was happening. Something big was about to go down.
A viciousbangfrom a door slamming exploded behind me and as Jace and I turned, we found Damien headed in our direction. He appeared even more disconcerted than before. His brother Marcus was casually strolling towards the emergency exit with his hands stuffed in both pockets.
“Everyone take a seat,” his acid-laced voice commanded as he stomped up the side steps and stalked towards center stage, planting himself there.
All chatter and movement in the club had abruptly ceased. The others who were still standing wasted no time planting their asses in the nearest chair, liquor in hand or not.
Silence filled the room for a long moment as all eyes fell on Damien. What sickened me the most was the look on their faces. Each and every one of them gaped at the sick son of a bitch like he was a fucking God.
“On Halloween night, two of our own—my son Jace and Finn, were ambushed by a gang of men in masks. As you can see, given the state of their conditions, they were both lucky to make it out alive.”
All eyes fell on me and Jace. The false tale of our wounds had the crew as a whole sharing vengeful glares.
“A cargo truck of ours was highjacked,” Damien continued as he began to pace around the stage, his eyes scanning the room. “None of you here are strangers as to what was in that truck, but it’swhowas in the truck that’s the problem. If they’re not found, captured, and returned to me immediately—alive, I should add—then us Outlaws could be in grave danger of having any future operations shut down indefinitely, the club included.”
Angry whispers and callous shouts dispersed throughout the club, making Jace and I share stunned, pale expressions.
“They know too much,” Damien explained, and the whole club grew quiet again. “And we all know that our control only lurks within the Valley. Outside of our kingdom, we’re open targets, but we also have a strong crew, so I’m confident we can regain control over this nuisance. I’m offering a generous payout to whichever team gets the job done first. 100k, cash. I’ll double it if you can find any infoandbring me the heads of the fuckers who stole them.”
A mixture of cheering and jumbled shouts pierced the air, and soon the majority of the Outlaws were raising their hands like a bunch of adolescents waiting to have their names called by their high school instructor.
“Finn,” Jace whispered, his body shaking.
“I know, Jace,” I whispered back, my heart in my throat.
“What are we supposed to do now?”
“I-I don’t know.”
I grasped my head, struggling to hide the tears filling my eyes.
“I don’t know.”
Ten
Isaac
Iletoutasigh and sat down on a bench in the empty courtyard mid Tuesday afternoon. It was my lunch period. I fumbled around in my blazer pocket until, finally, the joint I’d been searching for brushed against my fingertips.
After lighting it up, I inhaled the smoke and held it deep in my chest. I blew it out, unable to stop my jaw from thrumming as my eyes narrowed in on the bench across the yard.
That heavenly reminder flashed around in my head, and of course, my greedy cock couldn’t help but twitch to life in my pants thanks to the echo of her needy cries singing a dangerously titillating song through my ears.
I scoffed, despising how my body still yearned for her perfect, deceptive pussy, and adjusted my dick before bringing the joint back to my mouth. I puffed, puffed, and puffed until there was nothing but a large gust of weed smoke obscuring my vision from all angles.
“Isaac,” my brother’s deep voice greeted me.
