“I didn’t want that life.”
“That life? You mean our life? The life that we had built. The one that we were meant for. That life? The one that you were suddenly too good for.”
“You were taking it too far.”
“Bullshit!”
“You killed that man, James! You killed him for no good reason and you know it! You went too far,” Dom roared back at his brother.
It was as if they’d picked up exactly where they left off more than ten years ago. One of the last jobs they had pulled together had been a heist at a small jewelry boutique. It didn’t have a huge collection of gems, but enough to make it worth their while. James had started carrying a gun—something he’d never done in the past. James had promised Dom that it wasn’t loaded. He’d just flash it if he was trapped, and it would scare away any potential heroes. James had been running out of the store with the goods and a customer was walking in. The poor fucker was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. James fired two shots into his chest and ran over the guy. Dom later saw the report on the news. The customer had been half the size of James. His brother could have simply plowed through the guy and gotten away, but instead he shot him.
“It was about showing them that they need to fear us! It was about sending a message!” James lifted up the pool cue and pointed it toward the entrance of the bar. “Those people out there…they’re just sheep. They’re content to just stumble along through life and let the wolves of the world feast on them. We were not made to be sheep!” James lowered the stick and grinned slowly at Dom. “We’re wolves.”
Around him, one voice after another lifted up in a chilling howl from the deeper shadows of the bar. They came from all around him, proving that James’s crew had circled them while they played pool. He took a sliding step backward, jerking his head around to try to spot the others in the bar, but his night vision was shot after staring at his brother across the bright light of the pool table.
“You crossed the wrong pack, John.”
The sound of a shoe scuffing the rough concrete floor of the bar was Dom’s only warning. With fists balled, he swung around and smashed his fist into someone’s face before his vision adjusted enough for him to actually see his attacker. The person stumbled backward and crashed into one of the tables spread around the bar.
Another ran at him, lowering his shoulder so that it hit Dom straight in the gut. He staggered back several steps. Pain blasted across his stomach and ribs. The air rushed from his lungs and Dom struggled to keep his feet. Lacing his fingers together, he brought his joined hands down once, twice on the back of his attacker’s neck before finally getting him to release his hold around his waist. Dom immediately grabbed a fistful of greasy hair and held his head steady while bringing his knee up. The man cried out and Dom tossed him aside in the direction of his first attacker.
Pivoting on the balls of his feet, Dom took a ready stance as the same man he met at the nightclub started to approach with his own fists raised. The handsome bastard’s smile grew wider and his gaze focused over Dom’s shoulder. A chill slithered down Dom’s back before he could even turn around.
“You got this, babe?” the man asked.
“Wolves, John,” James coldly repeated before pain exploded in the back of Dom’s head, sending him straight to his knees. He tried to push through the gathering darkness, but a second hit sent him careening straight into nothingness.Oh, fuck, his head.
Dom groaned and tried to shift, tried to reach for his aching skull, but he couldn’t move his arms. He blinked slowly. His eyelids fought him just to raise even the littlest bit. Blinding light shot through his eyeballs and straight to the source of the pain in the back of his head. Nausea roiled his stomach and for a moment, he was sure that he was going to lose everything. Clenching his teeth, he forced in slow, short breaths, fighting back the pain and the queasiness.
After nearly a minute, the worst of it had passed and Dom slowly tried to open his eyes again. And the first thing he saw was James straddling a chair opposite of him, a wicked grin pulling his lips wide.
“There you are,” James practically purred. “They even managed to knock the shit out of you without messing up this handsome face.” James reached out and grabbed the sides of Dom’s face, turning it right and then left as if he was inspecting it. “Except for this bullshit,” he snarled when he caught sight of the long scar streaking down the left side of Dom’s face. “What the fuck were you thinking?”