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“She’s mine. Claimin’ her as my old lady right here and now.”
“Then let’s make a fuckin’ impact,” Piston states.
“Fuck yes,” Gnaw growls.
The three of us make our way toward the front door, no fucks given, not trying to hide. It doesn’t matter, not in this hood anyway. If this were somewhere else, it might, but here, every single surrounding house knows exactly who we are by the patches on our cuts, and they know to look the other way.
Gnaw doesn’t even knock. He turns the doorknob and pushes it open. I take a step forward, Piston and Gnaw both at my back as they follow behind me and we step into the house. I now understand why Shawn had an aversion to my messy room at the clubhouse.
This place is fucking trashed.
There are food containers and trash everywhere, but there are also clothes and just piles of stuff. Fuck me. I’ll never tell Shawn that I want to live in a mess again. Because this is fucking ridiculous. Although not as ridiculous as the two assholes in the living room.
The mother is sitting in a chair, staring straight ahead at the television. I don’t know what’s on, but it doesn’t matter. She doesn’t even turn to look at us. But the brother. He’s sitting on the couch, his eyes finding mine and widening.
He’s with it enough to recognize me, and that causes my lips to curve up into a huge grin. As soon as it registers not only that I’m standing in front of him but also that I’m smiling, he jumps to his feet. This causes the mother to shake out of her stupor and turn to face me herself. Though she doesn’t stand from her recliner. She can’t be bothered.
Taking her in, I study her, trying to see any part of Shawn in her features, but they aren’t there. I don’t know if it’s because I know the woman standing in front of me is an abusive bitch or what, but Shawn looks nothing like her.
“So you decided to come here and harass me?” the brother growls.
My lips twitch into a smirk. I take a step forward, though just one. Stopping in front of him, I tilt my chin down slightly to look into his eyes, my smile not fading because he’s fucking ridiculous. But I decide to respond for shits and giggles.
“I’m here because you decided to moan like a little bitch to your mommy that you couldn’t hang out, get high, and fuck my whores. So then your mommy took it upon herself to trash my woman’s bakery and fuck with her profits because Shawn wouldn’t give her drug money. Am I missing anything?”
He presses his lips together, his cheeks turning bright red as he stares at me. He’s spitting mad, and that only makes me laugh. I don’t give a fuck if he’s pissed at me. He did this shit on his goddamn own.
Whatever happens to him is something that he basically fucking asked for at this point. The bitch of a mother, too. I’m more than happy to mete out their fucking punishments or whatever the fuck you want to call it. I’m ready to get this show on the road, and I know that Gnaw is, too, because he grunts and takes a step forward.
“She’s my kid. I’ll do whatever the fuck I want. Anyway, how old are you? You a fuckin’ pervert?” the mother asks.
Letting out a laugh, I shake my head a couple of times. “I’m old enough to know you’re a strung-out piece of shit and your son here is the same. She’s the only good thing to ever come from between your legs.”
The bitch’s eyes widen as if she can’t believe I’ve just said what I have. The brother starts to charge me, but he’s slow, sluggish. His movements don’t really do much at all. If he were anyone else, it would be comical.
Before he can even take two steps toward us, Gnaw pushes his arm forward, his palm flat against his chest, and I watch as the wind is completely knocked out of him. He lands flat on his ass, gasping for air.
The bitch starts charging at me with her fingers flexed in claw position, ready to scratch my eyes out. She’s also slow as fuck. I wrap my fingers around the front of her throat and squeeze. I flex my fingers so hard that her knees instantly buckle, and she goes limp in my hand, but her eyes stay open and fixated on me.
“Do you think that I don’t know you wrapped your fingers around her throat? Do you think that I didn’t see the marks? You’re nothing but a jealous old hag. You’ll be lucky if you live after tonight,” I hiss.
She reaches for my arm, but I can’t stand to feel any part of her touch me, so I release my hand and watch her drop to the floor next to her piece-of-shit son. Neither of them moves, their eyes focused on me, flicking between me, Piston, and Gnaw, then back to me.
“If I see you, either of you, ever again, if I even hear your name whispered in the fucking wind, I’ll kill you. If you ever, ever contact Shawn again in any way whatsoever, I’ll kill you. Am I clear?”
“Fuck you,” the brother cries out, spittle flying from his mouth as he does.
Shaking my head, I crouch down in front of him. Instead of touching him, I tilt my head to the side, fighting the urge to beat the absolute shit out of him. But only barely. Then I clear my throat before I speak.
“It’s me who does the fucking,” I say on a laugh. “You mess with who I fuck, I’ll make sure you’re fucked really goddamn good.” Then I reach out and slap the fucker across the face like the bitch he is.
Moments later, we leave the shithole of a house and climb into the truck. Piston starts the engine, but he doesn’t shift it into Reverse. I suck in a deep breath before I turn to him.
He’s staring straight ahead at the house, still unmoving. “Should I have killed them?” I ask.
“They’re a liability, but at the same time, they’re just junkies. Pretty sure they both pissed their pants.”
I’m pretty sure they did, too.
