I punched him in the stomach, and he grunted. “Yeah, well don’t get used to it, asshole.”
Zethan chuckled, hitting me back, the slight ache good against the hell we went through. “It’s like you never said it.”
No, I said it. Meant every fucking word.
Zethan rounded his bike, threw his arms wide, and around my torso. “I love you, brother.”
Forgiveness. Redemption. Liberation.
Emotion raged in me. Joy. Anger. Fire battling wind, harsh sands, rain and hail, lightning and thunder. I wanted to cry. Fucking cry. Everything felt like it fell back into place, where it belonged. Where it should be if forces never interfered.
Rage bubbled in my veins. Forces I would make pay for what they did to me, to my relationships, my club, my fucking life and health. An enemy that would feel the weight of my rage when I got my hands on him.
Only one last piece of the puzzle remained out of place. Getting Zethan back as VP. Something I planned to remedy now that Brix was out of the picture to cause trouble.
“Let’s table a discussion next church on bringing you back as VP,” I croaked, the uncertainty like nothing I ever battled before.
He squeezed me tightly. “I appreciate that.”
I thumped Zethan on the back twice more and let him go, swiping at my eyes, the blood, sweat, and tears. Even Zethan’s normally brutal eyes misted up from our brotherly moment. I took a few moments to rebalance and remind myself what we were doing.
“The plans.” I sniffed, scrambling to remember them when emotion got the better of me as it did. “We scope out Faline’s movements, where she goes and when. Report back to Castor, Alaric, Hades, and Rane. Devise a plan to draw that motherfucker out of hiding.”
A solid plan. No army moved in for the kill without proper surveillance of their enemy, their camps, their weaponry, and numbers.
For our next move, I favored kidnapping Faline, enraging that weasel cunt Raine and drawing him out of hiding. Have a real fight on our hands. Satisfy my dark urges for revenge. Take him out as easily as possible. Snipe him from afar before he clued in on our presence. Send him to the fucking Underworld. Except the other avatars weren’t so sure that Raine would come to her rescue. Strategies to assess and decide on when we had more answers. If only I could contain my bloodlust for vengeance.
“Let’s get on the road before I cry like a fucking virgin bride on her wedding night to a fat old lord.” I threw myself into the dark Chrysler, caging the emotions inside, readying myself for the next stage of war.
Zethan laughed and got into the vehicle beside me.
United as brothers, friends, avatars, and fathers, we pulled out of the garage and merged onto the road to Sydney, leaving all the past behind, forging the way for the future of our friendship, club, and family.
Hours swept by as we scoped Faline, finding her at the address Castor gave us. Home address. What a fucking palace. Her majesty must have been worth a cool half a billion by the look of her.
Cupid’s avatar’s warning chimed in my head:Colton never lets her out of his sight.
With the obsessed cunt in mind, my war senses remained on high alert, scanning for that cunt or any motion within a fifty-foot radius of Zethan and me.
During our surveillance, we downed coffee after coffee from our thermoses, fueling ourselves with the sandwiches Aaliyah packed us. I loved that our mate thought of our welfare and prepared little healthy snacks while sneaking in a few sweet treats to soothe the sugary need.
Armored black vehicles and two bodyguards awaited as Faline clopped out of her mansion, dressed to kill in a tight-fitting, black catsuit that made a man want to murder just to win the honor of standing beside her. Seated in the passenger seat, they drove out of her compound, with us tailing her. They stopped briefly for her to get her morning fruit juice and salad. Appointment at the hair salon next, followed by nails, and a painfully long shopping spree before lunch.
Snore-fucking-fest. Things got a little more interesting when we tapped into her phone with an app Castor hacked from the police. Business calls only. No friends. Seemed our little cat goddess really did work alone.
Dark delight chased through me at hearing the raid she and her team planned on another of Colton’s underground casinos. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to be there when that went down. To see his weasel face… if he was even present. Heat infused my veins with the need to pulverize his skull and be done with this bullshit for good.
I stuffed a Fantale in my mouth—a rare treat from my old lady—letting the chocolate and caramel melt on my hot tongue, imagining Colton’s empire melting to the ground with it.
Finally, her majesty’s bodyguards finished piling her trunk with Prada bags and pulled out from the curb, rocking up to the decrepit parking lot of her underground casino at 1PM.
One bodyguard scanned the street for threats while the other opened the vehicle door for her. Long, lean, muscular legs in black pumps slid off the car seat, flexing as she came to a stand. Large Bulgari sunglasses framing her face, she ran her gaze over the cars outside her cash cow. Long, elegant fingers tipped in red—my favorite fucking color—adjusted the hem of her dress along her thighs and teased stray hairs back into place. Deadly beautiful, giving off the impression of a boss bitch, hiding the ruthless killer beneath.
The sound of swords slashed in my head, eager to battle my contemporary and possible adversary if she sided with Raine. Last time we met, her men called riders in, and the cunts sprayed us with bullets. Every nerve in me fired with the need to pounce and capture her. Break her. Bend her to our will. The instinct so strong, I fought the impulse to get to my feet.
“We should get her.” I watched her like a predator eyeing off my prey.
Get her while you can,dark whispers voiced.While she’s vulnerable.
