“Harleys?”
“Yup, those are definitely hogs.”
Ink looked at me, his face red with warning. “Since when do the Sixes roll with hogs?”
My heart raced. “Since never. Granite, we got company, and it’s safe to say it ain’t good.”
“I hear it.” Granite, Dutch, and Manic were out the back door before I could even open mine.
Ink launched out, gun in hand and slowly walking in the direction from where the hogs were coming.
As I rounded the cage, I saw the Harleys appear in the distance. They were slowly coming toward us, and I already knew it was them. The Pythons. I could feel it in my blood, the way it singed the inside of my veins. It was the same feeling I got the night my father died. It was an ominous feeling that ignited a certain caveat that had my every instinct flared and prepared for onslaught. Unfortunately, that night, the second I saw my father go down, every instinct I had to kill and maim turned into a compulsion to protect and save. But I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t save him.
None of us could.
“It’s the Pythons,” Ink said with a low sneer, yet sounding oddly excited about it.
“Everyone, stay cool.” Granite held up his hand, cautioning us.
My heart started to pound inside my chest, adrenaline washing through every nerve ending. Even my fingers became itchy, the gun at my side screaming to be pointed at a fucking Python.. Slither might think he had the Kings by the balls, but I wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in his skull right after I carved his heart out and fed it to the fucking rats.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ink’s fists clench at his sides. Anger vibrated off him in waves. Toxic. Deadly. Every empath’s motherfucking nightmare.
Dutch slid in next to Ink, while Granite moved to the front. Manic was standing at my right, a huge smile on his face. I could swear to God, the day World War Three should break out, this man would be manically and ecstatically fucking happy.Psycho.
There were about six or seven hogs coming our way, cruising toward us like arrogant assholes, as if they owned the fucking world. The loud thunder of their engines rumbled, slamming against the concrete slabs holding the bridge above us.
Manic loosened his shoulders, leaning his head from side to side. “I knew my spidey senses were tingling.”
I glowered at him. “What the fuck, man?”
“What?”
“You need to lay off the fucking superhero movies. Seriously.”
“Would you two shut up?” Ink scolded, and the tattoos on the side of his face seemed even creepier than the scar on Manic’s.
I stood a step behind Granite, arms crossed in front of my chest. I was about the only guy who matched Granite in length. We got our over six feet size from our dad. Big, butch, and brutal.
The fleet of Pythons came to a stop, revving their engines in a bid to add some good measure of intimidation. But they didn’t intimidate us. They only enticed us with the prospects of painting the asphalt with the blood seeping from their broken skulls.
Slither was first to take off his lid, slowly getting off his bike. “Well, well, well.” He inhaled deeply, shoulders rising as he took in the long breath of air.
Melodramatic asshole.
“Do I smell betrayal?” His freaky as fuck eyes cut straight to Granite, and I tensed, ready to do some target practice on his fucking forehead. Granite remained stoic, and Slither sauntered closer with his tribe of snakes close behind. “I thought we had a deal.”
“We do,” Granite replied, clipped.
Slithertsk’d. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“A fool, no.” I glared at him. “An ugly motherfucker, yes.”
Slither shot me a sideways glance, his expression taunting me with blatant disinterest. Granite was the one he wanted to crack, not me. With a simple look my way, he made it clear he didn’t deem me a threat, not like he did Granite. Big mistake.
“You should get a leash on your little brother, Granite.” Slither pulled his palm over his clean-shaved head. “Before it gets infected and goes rabid.”
It was instinct. It overwrote every logical thought, and I reacted by wanting to launch forward, already envisioning my hands coated with the fucker’s blood. But Granite reached out, slamming an arm in my chest, cutting me off and stopping me from attacking. I hissed and glared at Slither. “The day will come when I bathe in your fucking blood, I swear it.”