Thirty
Savage
I touched my lip, winced, then cursed. “Fuck Massacre. I think I need stitches.”
Several of my brothers decided that a morning beat down was the best way to start their day. Typically, I was all for a little fun in the morning but not when it was directed at me.
All because I gave my woman the fucking she deserved.
“Then go see Healer,” he replied.
Fuck that.
I’ll survive.
I asked, “How was I supposed to know the walls are paper thin?”
“Savage, you sleep like the dead,” Ghost exhaled.
Chaos rolled his eyes. “A fucking tornado wouldn’t wake your ass up.”
“I’ve never heard any of you complain before.”
“That’s because you fucked downstairs in the common room you animal. You never took a cut slut upstairs.” Smoke commented before he stood up, rubbing his eyes. “I need more coffee.”
“Hey guys!” Shadow yelled from the front room. “We’ve got a delivery!”
“Fuck,” Ghost muttered, getting to his feet. “It’s too early for this shit.”
Standing, I followed Ghost out of the kitchen and into the common room, where Shadow was standing before a man holding a box.
The man in question was just a kid. In fact, he was young. Couldn’t be more than eighteen. However, as we all approached, I watched as his smile on his face fell.
“Um,” the kid stuttered. “I don’t want any trouble. I just need to deliver this package to a man named Maxwell Doherty.”
“What’s your name, kid?” Ghost asked.
“Kyle.”
“Kyle what?”
“Brooks. Kyle Brooks.”
“You from around here?”
“No sir. My dad runs a delivery service in San Francisco. He asked me to bring this out to you guys.”
“Long way for a delivery,” Massacre grinned, eyeing the now visibly shaking kid.
“Yes sir.”
“Who’s the package from?” I asked, leaning against the wall.
I watched as the kid looked down at the box in his hands, then back up. His face paled as he muttered. “It doesn’t say, sir.”
“Post mark?”
We all watched as the boy looked back at the package again before saying, “Florida.”