Page 27 of Vengeance (Ruthless MC 4)
Her door slams at the top of the stairs, as if to punctuate his point.
“That’s right. You tell him, brother.” Hyena jabs a finger at me, his eyes flared wider than a WWE wrestler with a beef. His Mississippi accent is even more pronounced than usual. That happens when he’s pissed.
And just in case there’s any confusion about who he’s blaming for what just happened, he glares at me as he announces, “I’m going to put together another one of them cute boards for her to make up for that bullshit breakfast she just had because Vampire can’t figure out how to play nice with the girl we’ve only been panting after for five fucking years—or should I say five non-fucking years. We finally got her where we always wanted her, but he can’t get out his head.”
Speaking of heads, I rub at my temple. “I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about me in the third person.”
Hyena has several versions of his infamous smile. He gives me the one he keeps on reserve for guys he’s thinking about killing. “Des-E, tell him if he wants first person out of me, then he needs to stop cock-blocking our dream come true.”
“I’m not trying to cock-block you,” I tell him. I glance back to Des-E to add, “Or fuck this up.”
“Then fuck her for real,” Hyena all but hisses before heading over to the counter.
“And don’t act like it’s a chore to have her on your lap,” Des-E adds. Like I’m a teenage nerd who doesn’t know what to do with a girl.
Which I’m not—at least not anymore.
A memory of Elissa’s reaction to hearing that I signed up for the Army hits me hard.
I knew she was upset I’d be leaving. But she just said, “Good—maybe the army will toughen your candy-ass up. And you’ll finally figure out how to talk to girls other than me.”
Elissa was not politically correct. And she had one of those hard Southie accents that was incapable of relaying emotion—only sarcasm, skepticism, and the kind of jokes she had to apologize for when she got in trouble with teachers or made some poor kid at our high school cry.
But her mean and narrow face softened when I told her, “You’re the only girl worth talking to at school.”
Then she punched me in the shoulder because she was still Elissa.
And I pretended like it hurt because I was still me. And neither of us had to admit to feeling any actual emotions about me leaving her behind in Boston.
“V? V, you even listening?” Hyena asks, snapping me back to the present.
I shake the memory and focus on Hyena, who’s angrily slicing up a roll of Hickory Farms summer sausage like it’s a cartel rep who gave Hades less than his capo promised for a truck full of guns.
“I know you’ve got your shit. We all do,” Hyena points out. “But you have to get all the way over yours. Or else you’re going to fuck this up for all of us.”
Get over it.
Hyena’s right. We all have our background shit. You don’t become an enforcer for an outlaw biker gang because your upbringing was all suburbs and roses.
But my chest tightens with more memories of Elissa. And I feel compelled to point out, “She could have died. That Lado Norte could have…”
I can’t even finish. But I don’t have to.
“I know,” Des-E says, his voice filled with quiet rage. “If I could’ve raised him from the dead, I would have done it, just to go full Vengeance on him.”
“Me too,” Hyena agrees. “That shit keeps me up at night. But pushing her away isn’t the move here. She chose us. That means it’s our job to help her forget—to wipe her memory clean of what that asshole tried to do to her.”
Hyena makes it sound so simple, but…
“Did you see the way she looked at me when I went over the rules yesterday morning?” I ask. “She thinks we’re a bunch of psychos.”
Des-E shrugs his huge shoulders, as if to say, She’s got a point.
“Yeah, we’re psychos, and I am one-hundred percent down with her knowing that,” Hyena adds. “If it keeps her here with us where she belongs, it don’t matter if she thinks our roofs ain’t nailed right. Main point: she’s here and she’s following the rules. We’re good.”
She does seem to be accepting the situation—easier than any of us expected.
This morning, I thought maybe she’d push me away when my fingers dipped into her pussy, but she melted inside my arms.
My cock aches with the memory of her sweet moans filling up the bathroom as I worked her hot cunt. And how gorgeous she looked in the mirror when she found her release.
I wanted so badly to bend her over that sink and finally let myself have her. Sending her away had taken teeth-gritting effort.
