Page 52 of Desecrated Saints
I take a swig of beer. “Please just let me kill him. I’ll make it quick. No charge for body disposal.”
“You’re not funny.”
“It’s not a joke.”
“What’s the time?” She sighs.
“Quarter to ten. Nearly time.”
I’m itching to hold her close and far away from danger, but coddling Brooklyn West isn’t a mistake I’m going to make again. She’ll have my balls before letting me shield her from harm, and I most definitely don’t want to give them up.
“Fancy a dance?”
Her lips tilt up in a smile. “Thought you’d never ask.”
We head for the cramped dance floor, passing Phoenix and Eli, who shoot her heated looks. Brooklyn pauses to kiss them both, still clinging to my hand while pleasuring my friends. The act has my dick standing to attention. Once she’s done, we move to the steady beat of music.
Before long, we’re drenched in sweat and screaming along to a Black Sabbath song, losing sight of our surroundings. Just being here, with her sexy body writhing against me, makes all the bullshit worth it. She’s my blackbird again, just for a moment.
“If you don’t stop, I’m going to fuck you right here, in front of all these stoned lowlifes,” I warn under my breath.
Brooklyn sinks her teeth into my neck, marking me for the entire club to see. “Would that be such a bad thing? Could be kinda fun.”
“While I can just about tolerate sharing you with the assholes I call my brothers, I’m not comfortable with an entire nightclub seeing what’s mine. I may get stabby.”
She smirks. “Spoilsport.”
“Come on, let’s go find our guy.”
We grab Phoenix and Eli, following Kade and Seven further into the shadows of the packed nightclub. Some drunken idiot stumbles into me and spills beer all over my shoes, earning himself a black eye in the process. Brooklyn grins at me, thriving on the thrill of violence.
Before the night is out, I’ll have her screaming my goddamn name for everyone to hear. Especially Seven. I no longer give a fuck about subtly. Losing her has taught me to savour every last moment.
In the smoking area, we pass a pack of cigarettes around. Kade and Seven don’t accept, too busy surveying the group of friends drinking at the table next to us. Their rowdy voices betray their inebriation. Clearly, they aren’t here to assassinate us.
“What now?”
“We wait,” Kade replies.
The minutes trickle by until it’s nearly half past and our contact is more than late. We down another round of beers and reluctantly call the night a bust, preparing to get the hell out of this sweatbox. Before I can drag Brooklyn back to the warehouse and settle between her luscious legs, the blare of a fire alarm cracks through the night.
Kade stiffens. “That’s our signal.”
We watch the punters escape through a fire exit. The smoking area empties, while security focuses on the crowd inside the club, leaving us alone. I grasp the gun tucked into my jacket, unease trickling down my spine.
“I should’ve known it would be you lot.”
All turning, we find a hooded figure sliding through a concealed back entrance. Her voice sounds chillingly familiar, almost a little smug. I don’t bother to hide my weapon while aiming it straight at the stranger.
"Who the fuck are you?” I shout.
“Drop the weapon or this meeting is over.”
Settling on a nearby bench, she gestures for us to follow suit. We advance as a group, maintaining a safe distance. I place my gun on the table but keep it within reach. I won’t put it away until I know who exactly we’re dealing with.
“You’re late,” Kade barks.
“I have to be very cautious these days. Incendia is crawling all over this city, looking for the likes of you. They would gladly put a bullet in my brain if they catch up to me.”