“You don’t have to be here for this part,” I tell Ruby, stroking my hands down her arms. She’s cold and looks ready to drop.
“We finish this together,” she reminds me, a look of determination shining in her red-rimmed eyes, her voice hoarse and fragile. It’s been a fucked-up introduction to what club life is all about when things go bad. She has always been protected from the brutal side of who her brother is. But she’s not running scared. It’s in her blood, her DNA, to live the club life. Like her sister, she’s put her invisible armor on.
Shucking off my cut, I help her into it. It’s ridiculously big on her but it will help ward off the chill. “Stay over there with your sister,” I tell her, nodding to Lily.
Pulling my blade from my boot, I grip the handle in my palm and make my way over to Fisher.
Rage, Koyn, Loki, and Copper all stand close by, waiting to hear what this little prick has to say for himself. Ruby’s about to see a side of me she hasn’t met yet. This will determine if she can handle the true nature of who I am. The darkness within me is an entity all its own. It shares my body and I like who we are when he comes to the surface. A lot of people hide from their true nature, I embrace mine.
Rage snaps a smelling salt under Fisher’s nose.
Groaning, Fisher rouses and attempts to move his legs, but they’re tied to the chair legs. Realization hits him as he becomes fully awake and takes in the wall of Royal Bastards surrounding him.
“This isn’t how you thought the night would go, huh?” I smirk down at him.
“Bitch,” he growls, narrowing his gaze on Lily across the room. I’m surprised she listened to me and kept her distance. She chuckles, offering him a middle finger. There’s a darkness in her that could rival my own. Like me, she feeds it, nurtures the monsters within her.
“Don’t look at her, look at me,” Rage orders, stepping up to the chair. “Do you know who I am?” he asks, pinching Fisher’s jaw between his finger and thumb.
“You’re the bastard who killed someone I care about,” Fisher spits out. “The reason for all this. I’ve been looking for you,” he tells him. A deep chuckle rumbles from Loki’s chest at the audacity of this fucker. He’s tied to a chair and still thinks he has the power here.
“Well, you haven’t been looking far, motherfucker. I’m right here.” Rage pushes his thumb into the weeping gash on Fisher’s cheek, making the little prick thrash as he tries to pry him off. “Who did I kill worth so much mayhem?” Rage seethes, continuing to make the cut seep crimson streaks down his face.
“A good man,” he grits out, his breathing labored, sweat beading across his forehead. Stepping back, Rage scoffs, “No such thing.”
“He helped me as a kid, looked out for me.” Fisher froths at the mouth, trying again to yank at the restraints, giving up when his body tires. Sagging back against the backrest, his head lulls forehead, chest wheezing. “I nearly gave you to him once,” he says almost under his breath, looking up through his lashes in Ruby’s direction. My gaze traveling to her when he sucks in a breath.
“Him who?” Rage growls.
“Mr. Right,” Ruby says, placing a hand to her chest. “I knew he was a freak.” She almost loses her breath. “You bastard.” She closes the space with angry footsteps, stopping next to me.
“Motherfucker.” Rage exhales, looking to Copper, who folds his arms and raises a knowing brow.
“Who the hell is Mr. Right?” I ask, feeling out of the loop of this silent conversation happening around me.
“He was a fucking perverted trafficking piece of shit.” Rage once again grabs Fisher’s jaw. “That animal deserved what he got, and more. The fact that you give a shit about a man like that goes to show you deserve what you’re gonna get too.”
“He saved me,” Fisher roars, ripping his chin from Rage’s grip. “The man I was sold to didn’t like boys past the age of twelve, he was going to kill me, but Mr. Cage took me in, helped me,” he fumes, the blood vessel in his forehead throbbing.
“You knew his real name?” Copper asks, intrigued by that news.
“He was like a father to me,” Fisher scorns, spittle and blood dripping from his chin.
“That man wasn’t a father to anyone,” Copper says, looking around the group. “He went by the name Mr. Right, but his real name was William Cage, he worked for a mafia family acquiring merchandise in the form of sex slaves for rich perverts,” he finishes.
“My wife was molested by him. I took him apart and enjoyed every second of it,” Rage growls. I’ve heard bits and pieces about Rage’s wife, Willa, and the turbulent life she had because her flesh and blood brother had an obsession with her and just like Ruby’s bitch mother used her to clear debts. There was a theme between our families and the reason we all found each other. Damaged souls seek out other broken people, hoping the fragments from each coming together can build a whole picture again.