Page 111 of Vandal Unbound

Havoc catches the end of my sentence and laughs. “Only if you get caught.”

Then the SUVs arrive. Three of them. Each one black and tinted and expensive enough that they look ridiculous against the backdrop of rust and decay.

The doors open and men climb out. Some of them I recognize. I manage to hold myself together until the asshole with the snake tattoo steps out to open the passenger door. His face is attached to one of the men who broke me, to every nightmare I’ve had since.

But he’s not as intimidating as I remember. Sure, he’s a big fuck. But I guess lying in a wreck on the road, he felt…taller. Stronger, even.

Now, I’m not sure that he is. I feel like one-on-one, I could take him down.

Alvarez steps out of the SUV in a suit that probably costs more than my mortgage. He smoothes down the trousers to make sure the pant legs sit over his shoes properly. And when he finally looks up, he glances at Knox and then me. His gaze holds for a fraction of a second on my face. The scars. My eye.

He clearly remembers me, but nothing changes in his expression. I’m no mind reader, so I can’t guess what he’s thinking. But a small piece of me hopes it’s something along the lines ofHoly fuck he’s still here.

“Where’s Cristian?” Alvarez asks when he and his men walk over to us.

“Safe,” Knox says. “For now.”

“You better have treated him well,” Alvarez says.

Knox looks my way. “As well as you treated my man.”

A muscle twitches in Alvarez’s cheek. It’s small. Tiny even. But it’s a tell. Alvarez is not as composed as he might seem.

“What do you want?” Alvarez asks.

“I want to end this fucking war you started,” Knox says.

My eyes drift to the man with the tattoos. He’s staring at me, his gaze mocking. I force myself to remember Knox’s words.Don’t speak. Don’t move.

But the need to get even pulses through my veins with every heartbeat.

“Listen,” Knox continues. “You didn’t know anything about us until you started looking for Jonathan Paltrow. And you joined dots that weren’t meant to be joined. We won’t take responsibility for a man we ejected from our organization years ago. And in doing so, you started a fight with us that wasn’t ours to fight. So my question to you is, how long is it gonna take before you fucking realize that and go back to Miami?”

“You stole my shipment,” Alvarez says.

Knox huffs. “And now you just sound like a pouting child. We stole your shipment to prove to you we could after you pointed a missile launcher at our clubhouse.”

Alvarez looks at me. “I don’t think your men want peace.”

Knox looks over to me and finds me staring at Alvarez. “You’re right. They think we should blow you fucks up where you stand. You hurt one of my men, you raided our clubhouse, leaving us with people hurt and injured, you stole one of our shipments, and you tried to worm your way inside my clubhouse using your nephew. They think I should bury your ass because all you’ve shown us so far is some really fucking poor choices.How many men are you going to allow to get hurt or injured to soothe your ego?”

“Go fuck yourself, Grandad,” the guy with the snake tattoo says.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“Why?” Of course he matches a question with a question.

“Because I’m fed up with mentally calling you asshole,” I reply.

Knox puts his hand out, but I look down at my feet. “Haven’t moved, Prez.”

The corner of Knox’s lip twitches.

“Fuck you,” the guy says.

“Okay, Fuck-You, bad-mouth my president again, and I’ll kill you.”

A lot of hands move for a lot of weapons. But Alvarez has the good sense to put out his hand like Knox did to encourage his men to step down.