My brother relaxed a little. “Dude, relax. We got this. So, we underestimated the Python prospects. Turns out the fuckers had slightly bigger balls than we thought. But we pulled it off. No big deal.”
I sighed. “I know. Just don’t do any more stupid shit that can fuck all this up, okay?”
Onyx grinned and crossed his heart like a goddamn Girl Scout. “You got my word.”
“I don’t want your word. I want you to do as you’re fucking told.”
I walked over to the fridge, grabbed two beers, and tossed one to Onyx before opening mine. The fact that it wasn’t even noon yet didn’t do shit to stop me from chugging down the whole fucking bottle. “Dad would piss in his grave if he knew what we were doing.”
Onyx took a seat on one of the benches. “I’m pretty sure the second that Python stuck his blade into Dad’s stomach, Dad knew this war was inevitable. If he was here, he would have agreed we had no choice. If we don’t deal with these Python fuckers now, they will grow the balls to challenge us even more.”
I shoved my hair out of my face. “Yeah, I know.”
Onyx gripped the beer bottle tighter, his knuckles turning white. “You and I and the rest of the club will show those Pythons that we won’t be fucked with. You don’t kill one of ours without carrying the consequences.”
“No mercy. Never surrender.” I glanced his way.
My brother nodded. “That’s right. No mercy. Never surrender.” He downed the rest of his beer and threw the bottle against the wall, glass shattering everywhere. “Fuckers!”
I didn’t even flinch when the bottle hit the wall. I just scowled at him. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Maybe. But when I think of those filthy Pythons, all I want to do is break something. Preferably their fucking necks.”
Onyx just turned twenty-eight, and with me being six years older, I got used to him being unable to control his anger—which was exactly what happened last night. He was so amped up to kill those Pythons, when the opportunity presented itself, he grabbed it with both fucking hands.
“Don’t worry, brother.” I got up, walked over, and placed my hand on his shoulder. “It’s been years coming. We’ll avenge his death soon.”
Onyx slapped his hand on mine, a brotherly gesture. He might have been a pain in my ass sometimes, but I loved him, nonetheless.
“You should get some sleep.”
“Nah. Don’t want to waste daylight.”
I grabbed a towel from the rail. “Get one of the prospects to clean the mess you made.”
Onyx snorted. “You not done in here?”
I picked my gloves up from the ground and slipped them on. “Not by a long shot.”
“Fucking masochist.”
I laughed then heard the gym door close as Onyx left.
I threw a few punches, tried to get into it so I could tire myself out and get some rest. But it didn’t work. There was too much adrenaline in my veins, too many fucking demons fighting to get out. The more I thought about how the Pythons killed our father with two of our other guys, the angrier I got. They massacred our loved ones without blinking, and then had the balls to go after our business. Well, not while I was fucking president.
These streets belonged to us long before they decided to cruise in on their cheap wheels, pretending they could own everything they touched. They were so fucking desperate and knew the only way to get in our turf was to take out the big guns of our MC. That was the only way for them to have a shot at getting our business—a business we had been running for years.
Unfortunately, in our world, there was no such thing as a loyal client. If the Sixes could get their ammo cheaper from another distributor, they’d take it. No matter if we had been doing business with them for the last twenty fucking years. That alone cost us a lot of fucking money because we had to keep on lowering the price just to keep the Sixes’ money rolling in.
Even though it had been years since they massacred three of our men, we weren’t ready to retaliate until now. We were too hurt, the pain too strong. Pain and grief made men do stupid things, and to take out a club like the Pythons, we couldn’t afford to make stupid mistakes. But we were ready now. Our grief had turned into strength, and we were about to take down the filthy fuckers who owed us blood.
Just like the Pythons, we weren’t saints either. We ran our own little corner in hell, doing what we had to in order to survive. But who didn’t? It was an eat-or-get-eaten world out there, and we fucking devoured whoever got in our way.
Take Manic—the man had anger issues. It took a special kind of stupid not to notice. But that scar on his face told the story of a man who had endured the flames of hell repeatedly. We didn’t know much of his past, but we did know he’d been passed from one foster home to another ever since they found him on the streets when he was fifteen. What happened to him before then was a secret he carried alone. But it was here, with the Kings, that he finally found a place he could call home—a place where he fit in.
Then there was Ink—a walking fucking hard-on. I’d be the first to admit we didn’t see eye-to-eye in the beginning. But my dad kept saying there was something special about the prospect with his skin inked all the way down from his neck. Naked, those tattoos looked like a fucking suit. It was after a patch over in Pennsylvania that Ink and I started to get along. We got hammered so bad that night, I forgot my goddamn name. Drunk out of our minds, we decided to trash some random rich-bitch’s house and made good use of the backyard pool. That was the night I saw what lay beneath the layers and layers of ink. Scars. Too many to count. After that, Ink had all my respect. Fucker deserved it.
I threw one final punch before grabbing the swinging bag. I caught sight of the big, bold, blue letters on the wall.Stone’s Gym. No mercy. Never surrender.