Page 56 of Foxx
“My sister!” Mia blurts out, barely able to manage the words around the weight of my forearm at her throat. Her blue eyes blaze with anger. “Gator raped her! Yourbrotherhelped. We thought that was it, just the two of them, but she remembered there was someone else. Either you or Dagger.” She hisses, squeezing her eyes shut. And something in me tenses as ghosts from the past reach across time and space.
Tyler.I instantly register who she is and what she’s talking about. Her fuckingsister? I strive to recall the poor girl’s name.
“Nicola,” Mia breathes out with sad eyes, as if she’s reading my mind.
I haven’t thought about the girl or that disgusting time in our club’s history in almost two years.
We breathe in sync, our eyes locked as I register her reasoning and what she’s accusing me of.
I push off her to take a minute, standing to pace the floor.
She scoots back against the wall, clutching her throat and choking.
I run my hand through my disheveled hair while she curls herself in her little corner.
Taking a beat, I pull out a smoke and light it. Neither of us speaks as I smoke. The idea that she thinks I could have had something to do with her underage sister’s rape makes me fucking sick, but suddenly I put the pieces together. She had to have been out of her mind to try to work for me, but she’s fueled by grief, and grief can make a person do some pretty fucked-up things.
“What happened to your sister was a fucking tragedy.” I turn to face her. “Our club was different then. I don’t know what your sister thinks she saw…”
“Thought,” she corrects so quietly as she stands that it’s barely audible. “She died six weeks ago because she couldn’t fucking live with what happened to her.”
She gulps back a sob. “She overdosed. Heroin. I found her.” Her voice is so quiet on the last part it’s barely a whisper.
Shame reaches out and sucker punches me in the gut with a lead fist, because I just gave Mia a needle full of drugs.
“Make this all make sense, Mia,” I say. “Now.”
Mia places her hands on her hips, ready to fight again.
“We were downtown the day she died. She turned as white as a ghost when she saw your bike, the only one with red parked out front of the Yard. You were sitting on it, talking to Dagger. There were other men there too, but I was sure she meant it was one of you.”
I let what she’s saying register. That she is here on her own accord, not because the Hounds, or anyone else, sent her. I will myself to harden to her, remembering that I wouldn’t have had to do this if she hadn’t fucking lied to me in the first place, but it doesn’t work. Because I think she’s brave as fuck for crossing over enemy lines for her sister. To find out the truth, no care for her own safety. A soldier fighting for her family.
Impulsively, I set my smoke on the edge of the counter and pull a fresh syringe from the bag, as well as the spare vial of serum I brought with me. Carefully, I fill the needle. I can hear Mia almost panting with the fear of what’s to come.
“This isn’t for you,” I tell her as I tap the needle. “Continue.”
She sucks in a deeper breath.
“I—I’ve heard Mason talking about Lavish. He said the Disciples owned it, that the Souls always hung around there. So I made a plan. I figured if I worked there, then I could find out who you were. I didn’t know you fucking owned it until I went in to apply,” she says quickly. “When I found out you were Marco’s brother, it fueled my assumptions.” She struggles for words. “It made sense it was you.”
I move toward her slowly.
“Why? Because I’m the president of a club that rivals your family’s? Because we’re all scum? Is that it?” I ask, flipping the needle over and offering it to her.
She looks at it, then back up at me, understandingwhat I’m asking as I pull the sleeve of my shirt up. I tap my shoulder.
“Find out.”
Mia doesn’t even hesitate. She takes the needle, pulling the cap off with her teeth, eyes burning as she forgoes my shoulder and plunges it straight into my neck, a smug look of satisfaction washing over her pretty, infuriating face as she empties it, spitting the cap to the floor before handing the needle back to me.
“Fuck,” I bite out as I take it. Tossing it into the bag, I pick my smoke up from the counter and take a deep inhale.
“Christ,” I mutter, reaching around to touch the spot where Mia stabbed me. Of course my neck is bleeding.
“You deserved that,” she says, and I almost smirk at her brazenness. “And, to answer your question, it’s not because you’re a Disciple. I just thought…if I could get to you, or someone close to you, to prove you were there then, you would pay,” she continues. “I needsomeoneto pay.”
I drop my cigarette and crush it under my boot on the worn floor. A long beat of silence passes between us as the adrenaline starts to flow through my veins. It wasn’t a perfect dose for my size, but it will do the trick. And maybe then she’ll understand I’m not the kind of man to hurt a fucking child.
