prologue
Content Warning:
This is a dark gang romance. The darkness is not in the gang aspects, but in the romance itself. If reading about fictional men who are toxic, manipulative, and abusive upsets you, please return this book for a refund. There is nothing comfortable or safe about this read.
If you are 18+ and have no triggers… Welcome to Faulkner, where the city limit is the only limit.
#1 on the Billboard Chart:
“If You Had My Love”—Jennifer Lopez
“Time to collect.”
I glower at the plain brick townhouse as we cruise by. A light is on in an upstairs window, and her shadow moves inside the room. Low light filters through the blinds over the living room windows. A mixture of fury and finality simmers inside me as Reggie pulls to a stop.
“Sure you don’t need backup?” he asks, leaning forward to pull his gun from the back of his jeans.
“I got it,” I say, throwing open the car door. “This shit’s personal.”
“Just because he’s a pussy, that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous,” Reggie calls as I climb out. I circle the car, and he cranks the window down and reaches out.
“He’s still my brother,” I say, clasping his hand and pulling us in close.
“Nah,” Reggie says. “The Crows are your brothers.”
“The Crows don’t exist anymore,” I remind him.
We all know it’s bullshit. We will always belong to something greater, something deeper, a brotherhood that transcends blood.
“You got too much faith in themalparido,” Daniel says from the back seat. “Mess with a guy’s bitch, and he doesn’t think straight.”
“Learned that the hard way,” I say, cracking a grin and leaning down to speak through the open window. If you can’t joke about that shit, it’ll drive you insane.
“We’ll be here,” Reggie says. “Give us a signal if you need us.”
“I’m going around back to have a smoke,” Billy says, pushing the empty passenger seat forward and climbing out. “In case he’s a still a little bitch, and he tries to run.”
“He won’t run,” I say, the urge to defend my brother coming automatically.
There’s no use with these guys, though. They are my boys, and he’s not. He’s not one of us anymore. He made that choice, and in their eyes, he deserves no respect. He’s a rival.
But I know he made it for her. And hell, maybe I’d have done the same if she’d chosen me.
The thought makes the old rage rise inside me, a phoenix of fury that turns to ashes when I don’t think about it but is ready to burst into incinerating flames the moment I do.
Reggie sets his gun on his lap and grabs his cigarettes off the dash. “No reason to live with unfinished business,” he says. “Go take care of it.”
“Gracias, parce,” I say to him, then nod to the rest of my crew who rode with me tonight. Straightening, I tuck my gun in at the small of my back before heading for the door.
I haven’t seen the inside of my twin’s place since he moved here. He cut ties with more than the Crows when he dipped.
I’ve driven by, though. Imagined cruising by and scaring them, making them wonder if we’re coming for them. If we’re biding our time before payback. I’ve imagined sliding down the window, hanging my arm out, shooting him in the back while he carries in groceries for her.
It’s a pussy move, but then, he knows all about those.
I’ve thought about putting a bullet in her head when she’s in the yard, maybe a few years down the road, when they have kids and he’ll be stuck with them.
Mostly though, I think about seeing them fucking. If the windows are open one day, the white curtains fluttering, and framed between them, I’ll see his hands on her bare back as she rides him, her head thrown back and her long, dark hair tumbling down as she moves, so lost in her own bliss she doesn’t remember I exist.