My poor little sister. She really thought playing with her tits was a part of assessing her wounds.
Instead of heading back to my bedroom, I leave the house. Riding my motorcycle is a challenge when my erection hasn’t gone away. I play music in my helmet, hoping that will help replace my sister’s moans, but I can still hear them as I pull up to the abandoned mansion I’ve used for “fun” for the last year and a half.
The moment I go up to the door, adrenaline rushes through me like I’m about to get into a fight. I’m still thirsty for blood after my altercation with Mickey, and what better way to quench it than with his best friend?
I knock on the door, putting space between each rap to let Ryder know that it’s only me. It flies open and his tall, bulkybody takes up the whole doorway. A skull mask covers his nose and mouth, and a head wrap with a beanie on top covers his hair. He’s paired a long-sleeve shirt with cargo pants and boots, and a bulletproof vest rests over his torso.
“You’re back,” he says in greeting.
“Yeah.” I squeeze past him and breathe in the stale scent of cigarettes, booze, and mold.
Once upon a time, it used to smell like fresh paint and bacon—which is an awful combination but better than the one now. I guess the family who abandoned this place had sat down to eat breakfast, then split during the last Reckoning. The whole neighborhood left, and the homes are all in a similar state, with abandoned furniture, clothes, and everything else. It’s like a time capsule from when these people thought everything was okay before all hell broke loose.
Ryder’s eyebrows draw together, and he folds his arms over his chest. “Something happened?”
“Something like that,” I say, and roll my neck until it pops and eases the tension. “Is he in his room?”
We’re keeping Kyle locked in the laundry room with nothing but a blanket and a TV that plays static from a lost signal. Ryder glances that way, then returns his knowing stare to me.
“Let me guess,” he says. “You ran into someone on our list, and they upset you.”
I barely dip my head in a nod, but he still catches it.
He sighs and waves his gloved hand, abandoning the twenty-question game when he’s barely getting anything out of me.
“Let me set everything up for you, then,” he says, and strides toward the laundry room to get Kyle. “Don’t go easy on him tonight, Jax. He bit Aiden earlier.”
My fingers curl into a tight fist. Of course he did. Kyle is a biter, and now I plan onreturning the gesture.
“Tell him he’s fighting for his freedom,” I say to Ryder’s back.
His laugh echoes through the rooms, and he disappears around the corner.
I swipe blood from the corner of my lip while keeping my gaze trained on Kyle. He holds his fists up in a sloppy position that shows he’s never fought a day in his life until recently. His bare shoulders heave as he pants from overexertion. I’ve worked him to that point, dodging most of his punches.
By putting all of his strength into the beginning of this fight, Kyle has gone into this all wrong and worn himself out. Which means he’s making this way too easy and not at all the tension-reliever I need. He was an idiot in school and is still that way now.
Kyle lunges, his fist hooking and missing me by a hair. I twist my body at an angle, dodging his hit and blocking another failed punch. The meathead snarls and rushes me, knocking me to the ground and pinning me beneath him. I grunt under his crushing weight, then laugh with each clumsy strike. His knuckles slam beside my temple with enough force that everything goes dark. Shrill rings fill my ears, and I slowly blink my eyes open, barely able to make anything out.
“Not laughing now, are you, fucker?” Kyle yells. His voice warbles like my head’s underwater and I’m desperately trying to catch my breath. His weight on me disappears, and he screams at the top of his lungs.
I suck in a shaky breath and turn my head toward him. I make out fuzzy shapes that are supposed to be people as they dogpile Kyle.
“You cheating bastards!” he roars.
My heart beats faster, then slows until I think it’s about to stop. In the back of my mind, I know I’m in shock after Kyle landed that lucky blow. I blink and blink again, clearing my vision until I see my best friend piling on Kyle. I smile as Aiden straddles Kyle’s chest and punches into the sobbing pussy, who begs for his life.
“You’re all liars!” Kyle cries.
He grunts with each punch and weakly shoves at Aiden, who’s laying into him. I’m surprised by how easily my friend can move in all that gear he’s wearing. It’s like Ryder’s, but he has a tool belt loaded with guns, ammunition, and even a hair-trigger grenade I’ve been nervous about.
I roll onto my side and shakily get to my feet. Ryder comes to my side and, with a hand on my arm, holds on to me until we’re both sure I won’t topple over.
I gain my bearings and tilt my head at an angle, stretching the tense muscles in my neck and cracking the cartilage. I groan with relief and do the same to the other side.
“I’ll admit, you almost had me there, Kyle.” I pop my knuckles and limp toward the bastard. “But we don’t fight fair. You want freedom?”
Kyle’s screams go quiet, and all that’s left is the sound of flesh meeting flesh until that stops too. He lies limp beneath Aiden, blood covering his face and chest.
