1
Onyx
This wasone of those moments when you saw everyone’s lips moving, but you couldn’t hear a sound. You didn’t hear a single word that came out of their mouths. I sat there watching them, everyone speaking at once while trying to get their opinion heard. Dutch was practically standing on the fucking table, attempting to talk some sense into Granite.
I rubbed my palm against my beard, pursing my lips before smiling half-heartedly. “Listen, all of you can shut up now.” I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the hardwood table. “I’m not taking Granite’s place. I don’t give a fuck who says what.”
Granite shifted in his seat, turning to face me. “It’s the only way.”
“No, it’s not.”
“If we want to take down Slither and make him pay for what he’s done, we need to do this.”
“You are the president of the Kings, Granite. And we’re not about to let you step down simply because you gave some psychopath your word.”
“I agree with Onyx,” Dutch chimed in. “I get why you’re so hellbent on keeping to your word, but the fact that they nearly killed Neon, kidnapped Alyx, and used Tanit to do it, I say fuck ’em. It gives you more than enough right to break the deal.”
Sitting next to Granite, I could hear the scratchy sound of his hand slowly rubbing down his beard. The man’s brain was working overtime as he listened to the guys bicker back and forth. But it was all a waste of time. There was no way I would do this.
I glanced at Manic to my left as he watched the show with a frown on his scarred face. He looked at me and shrugged like he found the entire conversation boring as hell.
“Onyx,” Granite leaned forward, “why don’t you want to do this? Why don’t you want to be president?”
“Because that seat right there is yours. Not mine. And I don’t get why we need to fuck with how things stand around here just because of that stupid deal. Like Dutch said, they used Tanit to kidnap Alyx. If they didn’t kidnap Alyx, you never would have made that deal. It’s fucking entrapment, if you ask me.”
Manic smirked and reached for his beer. The man never had much to say when we had our meetings. He was game for anything and didn’t really care about formalities. Manic was the strong, silent type. But I knew all too well what kind of demons roamed under that marred skin.
“It’s the only way.” Granite lit a cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Even if my deal with Slither wasn’t an issue, this is a move they won’t expect. It will throw them off, momentarily letting their guard down.”
“And what then? What’s the plan? I become president, and we do what? Just ride over and kill ’em all?”
Ink snorted. “That sounds like the perfect plan.”
“Be serious, Ink.”
“I am. I’m dead fucking serious.” He put out his cigarette, looking at me then at Granite. “This club is my life. You guys know that. But understand this. I don’t give a fuck which one of you sits in that motherfucking chair. I am killing Slither. I am going to slice that piece of shit from nose to navel and watch him choke on his own fucking balls. That’s a fact.” He got up, the chair screeching across the floor. “So, it doesn’t matter to me what you decide, as long as I get to watch that motherfucker suffer while I slowly pull his spine from his goddamn body. But what I will say is you better make a decision fast because I ain’t waiting much longer.”
Ink stormed out, the slam of the door echoing through the silence. Everyone knew he wasn’t kidding. Most of the time, Ink was the jokester, the one who didn’t take life too seriously. But this was different. Ever since we found Neon’s mutilated body on the pavement, choking on what we thought would be her last breath, he’d changed. He was no longer the man who took each day as it came. He was a man driven by revenge, a beast hungry for blood. God knew I didn’t blame him.
Manic emptied his beer, slamming the can on the table. “That went well.” The rest of us scowled at him, and he shot us a cocky grin. “Someone needs to keep a sense of humor around here.”
“Do you not take this seriously?” Dutch glared his way.
Manic shrugged. “Of course I do. I just don’t get what the fucking problem is. Granite doesn’t want to break his word to a fucking psychopath piece of shit, and Onyx doesn’t want to take big brother’s place. So, basically, there’s two options here.” He shrugged. “Either Granite shoves a huge fuck-you up Slither’s ass by not giving a shit about their deal, or Onyx becomes president. It’s as simple as that.”
I scoffed. “Unbelievable. It’s not fucking simple.”
“Oh, yes, it is. You’re just overcomplicating it by being a dick.”
“What did you call me?”
He leaned back, all cool and collected. “Come on, Onyx. Say it. You don’t want to be president because you’re afraid you’ll fuck up and never be as good as Granite.”
Manic turned his attention to Granite. “And you don’t want to break the deal because you have too much to lose now that you have Alyx. If it wasn’t for the ballerina, we would already be slitting Python throats by now.”
He got up, grabbed his pack of cigarettes, and walked out.
Granite cursed, Dutch groaned, and I pulled my palm down my face. But what I really wanted to do was slam my fist into something.