“Then I can welcome them to my world,” I called back.
“Fuck, no. Hudson. The place could get trashed.”
“Do I look like I give a shit?” I said this as I stepped onto the patio, my prey in sight. I finally had an outlet for the emotions I’d experienced ever since I’d received the letter about my old man, as red took over my vision. I battled the devil most days, but this was something else.
I ignored the cat calls from the cheer squad sitting wasted in the hot tub. I caught Storm’s look of concern as I strode past them. She had only seen me at my worst once, which wasn’t an occasion I was proud of.
But that wouldn’t stop me now. Nothing could.
I embraced my rage and that unrelenting need to make Xander Creed suffer
FIFTEEN
“You have three seconds to get your handoffher before I snap it in half.”
I grabbed Creed’s shirt, bunching it at the back of his neck and dragging him around to face me.
I had the element of surprise and I worked with that.
“Get the fuck off me,” he snarled as I released him. Creed stepped backwards and started to straighten his shirt.
“Hudson, what do you think you’re doing?” Molly panted, grabbing my arm. The thought of her defending him made the red I saw flash neon and I shook her off and got in the fucker’s face.
His initial shock soon vanished, and his body tensed as I rammed him against the fence with my hand on his throat. Molly squeaked and jumped out of the way. Creed’s head hit the barrier, and he grabbed my wrists, his expression almost as angry as mine. Almost.
I threw all my weight into the attack. “And stay away from my brother,” I growled. No sooner had the words left my mouth than Micah appeared beside me.
“What the fuck bro?” he panted in shock, taking in my hand wrapped around his dealer’s throat.
“Stay away from your brother or your girl?” Creed choked out, clawing my hand, and puffing out his chest. I stepped into him, using my torso to keep him pinned, bracing myself against the wooden panels with my free hand. I had at least a foot on the cunt.
“Both. You feel me?” I then turned to glare at Micah, not loosening my hold. “What did this piece of shit sell you?”
“What are you talking about?” Molly questioned, clearly distressed by what she was seeing.
Keeping my gaze trained on Micah, he must have noticed the look in my eyes as the color drained from his cheeks. “What? Nothing major, just a baggie.”
“How much?” I growled.
“Only an eighth, I swear,” Micah added with a swallow. An eight wasn’t anything major. However, it wasn’t child’s play either. I didn’t have a problem with the occasional blunt, but getting loaded every day was not good.
I could feel that Micah was lying, and it riled me up more.
“Bullshit,” I swore. The darkness that had haunted me since I’d witnessed what the heavier shit had done to my fathersurgedthrough me.
“It’s not bullshit, Hudson. Just weed. I’m not shitting you.” My grip tightened, causing a wheezing sound from my victim.
I turned back to Creed. He was tall, but he wasn’t built like me. The son of a bitch carried on clawing at my forearm with his hands, his pallor continuing to change as I squeezed.
I knew it was madness; if I injured Anton Creed’s kid, there would be a fallout, and who knew whatthatwould look like?
Molly was saying something, along the lines of let him go. Yeah, that so wasn’t happening. My only focus was on the motherfucker I was throttling.
“Molly. Go and find Phoenix, now,” I heard Micah say. His tone was deathly serious.
“What? Why? So, they canbothpummel him?” she panted, clearly freaking out as Xander’s eyes started to bulge in their sockets. He tried to kick out with his feet, but I trapped him with one thigh.
“He’s the only one who can stop him when he’s like this,” Micah explained, shaking my shoulder, trying to get my attention. “Go, now.”
