Shattered Poetry (Broken Lives #2) Page 26

  “That’s true,” Liam said. “He’s attacked her before. Maybe he went to kill her, taking cleaners. I heard the Skins do that shit, use acid to get rid of the bodies. They’re sick bastards.”

  “Hemi Rakete isn’t a cleaner!”

  Liam’s eyes widened. “The Skins’ VC wuz there?”

  “Along with his Mercenary cousin. There were also Skins stationed in the neighbouring houses. We barely got out alive. How the fuck did they know we were coming if Phelia didn’t set us up? After all, she told us where he would be!”

  “I didn’t tell you a time,” I said. “Only that I thought Jasper would go there after what he did the other day. And again, I hate him. I would never risk my mum’s life for him. Maybe Landon let sumpthin’ slip.”

  “Landon wouldn’t betray us!” Liam snapped. “He’s DC, and he hates that fat pig of a Skin.”

  “I didn’t say he would. Maybe he said sumpthin’ that made Jasper suspicious. Check what he said.”

  “No, my brother—”

  “Get him here now!” Jonah hollered at Liam. “I want to know exactly what he told Jasper. Every single fuckin’ word!” He looked down at me. “And you better hope it’s in your favour, girl, or you’re fuckin’ dead.”

  ***

  My mum continued pacing the floor furiously, probably knowing, like me, that we could be dead by the end of the day. Jonah had herded us into a windowless room. It only had a single bed to sit on and a vanity cabinet facing us, the mirror tracking my mum’s movements. For a moment, I considered smashing the mirror, using the shards as a weapon, but instantly discarded the idea. Jonah would probably end up taking it off me, and slashing my throat instead of me slashing his.

  My mum turned to me, her face twisted with worry and a touch of confusion. “Why would they even contemplate that you would betray them?” she asked for the millionth time.

  “I have no idea,” I said, touching my left eye gingerly, the swelling having grown worse. It was closing up, making it hard to see out of it. “I would never help Jasper. He wuz threatening me. I thought by tellin’ Jonah it wuz him, I could get rid of the creep and free you.”

  My mum jerked her head back. “What did you say?” she said, looking surprised, as though I hadn’t told her all of this before. She probably hadn’t even been listening, too wrapped up in her own fear, which I couldn’t blame her for, because I was scared shitless too.

  “I already told you this,” I replied, wishing she’d quit asking.

  “No, you didn’t!” she yelled, jolting me. “The way you’re talkin’ now sounds like you gave Jonah a false name.”

  I dropped my hand, only just realising I’d slipped up, my frustration with having to repeat myself making me lax. “I didn’t have a choice. Jasper threatened to kill us. I had to do sumpthin’.”

  “So, he didn’t kill Jonah’s son?”

  “I have no idea who killed him. All I know is, I wuz tryna protect us. I don’t know how the Skins found out ’bout the ambush. Maybe they were watching me like the Devil’s Crew were. Otherwise, none of this makes sense.”

  “You still told them a false name,” she growled. “What happens when they find out this person didn’t kill Jonah’s son?”

  “They won’t if you keep your voice down,” I hissed.

  She snapped her mouth shut, her eyes going to the door. When it remained closed, she refocused on me. “You do understand what’s goin’ to happen to this person you said killed this boy, don’t you?”

  I brought my hands to my head. “I know, Jonah told me enough times.”

  “Which means you’re goin’ to have this on your conscience for the rest of your life. Blood will be on your hands.”

  “Don’t you think I don’t know that!” I snapped, flinging my hands out. “It’s bad enough as it is, you don’t hafta remind me.”

  Her face hardened. “I don’t think I have to remind you with that reaction. You obviously know what you did wuz wrong. How could you do that, Phe? You’re basically murdering someone through Jonah.”

  “I didn’t have a choice!”

  “Everyone has a choice, it’s just a matter of whether it’s the right one or not. God—”

  “Don’t bring God into this!” I yelled, sick of her always using religion against me. “It wuz either us or Jasper. And don’t feel sorry for him. He would’ve choked me if Dante didn’t stop him. He had his hand around my throat, not caring that I couldn’t breathe. He’s just as bad as the Devil’s Crew. Everyone, including Dante, would be better off with that psycho gone.”

  Looking stricken, my mother placed a hand over her mouth and turned away from me, probably unable to handle what I did. Regardless, I would do it again, no matter how much it sickened me.

  The door opened, pulling my attention away from my mum. Reaper stepped inside, Death now at our door. My mum screamed and scrambled onto the bed, pulling me to her. Reaper smiled, causing the tattooed teeth around his mouth to stretch obscenely.

  His amused gaze moved to me. “Out.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t betray the club. I didn’t!”

  “We know. Now, out.”

  I hesitated, fear holding me back. He could be lying to lower my defences.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled.

  I pried myself out of my mum’s arms and pushed up off the bed. She got up too, following me to the door.

  Reaper shoved her back. “You’re staying.”

  “What? No!” I yelled. “I did what Jonah told me. He promised to free her.”

  “Not until his son’s killer is brought to justice. Until then, she stays in this room. But you, you’re coming with me.”

  He grabbed me by the arm and yanked me into the corridor, slamming the door shut in my mum’s face. He locked it, then hauled me down the corridor, shoving me towards the doorway that led to the bar lounge. I stumbled through it, almost banging into a table. All of the furniture had been pushed aside. A circle of bikers were standing where the tables had been, and at their centre—

  My eyes widened at the two bodies lying on the floor. A second later, I realised they were Liam and Landon Papua. The brothers looked dead, their bloodied forms unmoving.

  My shocked gaze moved to Jonah and the other leather-clad men surrounding the brothers. Anger rippled across their faces, while blood stained their knuckles. Landon let out a groan on the floor, drawing my attention back to him. The biker closest to him raised his boot, looking like he was going to stomp on Landon. Liam moved fast, scrambling over his brother, the boot instead connecting with his body. He yelled out, but didn’t let go, taking the hit for Landon. The biker reached down to grab Liam.

  “Enough!” Jonah yelled. “They’ve learnt their lesson.” He shoved a man aside and stalked past the beaten brothers, heading for me. Blood coloured his fists, some of it on his tattooed arms, shirt and leather cut, looking like he’d done the majority of the beating.

  I backed up into Reaper, terrified he was going to do the same to me. Reaper locked his arms around me, making it feel like I was in death’s grip.

  “I didn’t betray you,” I sobbed. “I didn’t!”

  Jonah came to a stop in front of me. He lowered his head to my level, his hard face even scarier than Reaper’s, the malevolence in his brown eyes drilling into me. Unable to look at him, I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “Please don’t kill me,” I sobbed. “I didn’t say anything to Jasper. I hate him.”

  “I believe you,” Jonah rumbled.

  I choked out a relieved sob and opened my eyes, a glimmer of hope breaking through.

  “Landon fucked up,” he said. “He told Dante instead of Jasper.”

  My eyes widened, all hope diminishing with that one name. “No, no, no,” I said, shaking my head. “Dante can’t know, he can’t.”

  Jonah’s top lip curled back into a sneer. “Not only does Dante know, he’s the one who told Hemi Rakete,” he snarled out Jasper’s dad’s name. “We’re now at war wit
h the Skins.”

  A cry came from the doorway, capturing our attention. A biker shoved Annabelle Aston into the lounge. Her orange hair was in wild disarray, her freckled cheeks covered with tears and a touch of blood. She looked so much younger than at school, a tiny schoolgirl in a pleated skirt and a bloodstained blouse.

  “Why is she here?” I asked, not only shocked to see her, but doubly shocked they’d hit her. Because, unlike me, Annabelle still looked like a kid, and right now, a terrified one.

  Jonah grunted. “Landon said this bitch wuz hanging with that Rata brat when he told Dante ’bout you, so we snatched her on the way home from school.”

  “Why would you take her?”

  “Info.”

  My gaze went to Annabelle again. Her left eye, like mine, wasn’t closed by choice. As she was pushed closer, I could also see that her lip was split. I refocused on Jonah, thinking he wasn’t just a devil, he was the Devil.

  The other gang members stepped aside as Annabelle was pushed into the circle. She fell down next to the beaten brothers. She screamed and scrambled away from them, obviously thinking they were dead. She jumped to her feet and rushed at the gang member closest to her, trying to escape.

  He laughed at her pitiful attempts and shoved her back down. “Be careful li’l Red or the big bad wolf will eat you up.” He snapped his teeth at her.

  A number of the other bikers started laughing.

  “Shut your pie-holes!” Jonah hollered, silencing them.

  He stalked over to Annabelle, shoving two bikers aside to get to her. She screamed and kicked out at him, crab crawling backwards. He grabbed her by the leg and yanked her to him, picking her up as though she was a ragdoll. She went wild, hitting and thrashing about in his grasp, some of her punches actually making Jonah wince. He smacked her across the head, causing her to cry out.

  “Keep still, girl!” he bellowed as she tried to hit him again. “Or I’ll snap your bloody neck.”

  She went still, her breathing a mass of sobs and hiccups, her whole body shaking in his tattooed arms, which looked as thick as her legs.

  He kissed her head, causing her to jerk it back, though not by much, because he was holding her tightly to his body, her feet dangling well above the floor.

  “Now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart,” he crooned, changing his tone in an instant. “If you do as you’re told I won’t hurt you anymore.” He kissed her forehead again, the brush of his lips against her skin not sexual. It was almost fatherly, the man jumping between being rough to gentle within the blink of an eye. It was disconcerting, not to mention disturbing. I wondered whether he had a split personality.

  He continued talking to Annabelle. “Landon told me sumpthin’ interesting ’bout you.” His gaze went to me, a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. “That you’re Dante Rata’s new girlfriend.”

  “Not girlfriend, his mate,” Annabelle sobbed. “A friend.”

  “He’s not a very nice friend to have, darlin’,” Jonah replied, fingering her long orange hair. “He’s in a gang. You should stay away from bad gang members.”

  The bikers laughed, minus one, who had a storm brewing behind his blue eyes. He was young looking, early twenties at a guess, with shoulder-length blond hair. It was tied back, revealing a handsome face, his scruffy blond beard saving him from being a pretty boy. He was wearing a leather cut over a black singlet, his right arm wrapped in a bandage. I wondered whether he’d recently injured it, because he had a red cut above his right eye. Or maybe Jonah had done it, because the blond was glaring at the back of Jonah’s head, giving the impression he wanted to bash it.

  Annabelle cried out again as Jonah squeezed her.

  “Stop hurting her!” the blond biker barked.

  Jonah spun around, blinking at him in surprise. “What did you say?”

  The blond’s expression fell. “I’m sorry, Prez, it’s just ... she’s a kid.”

  Jonah dropped Annabelle and stalked towards the blond, who stiffened. Unlike the other bikers, he didn’t have any tattoos, his fair skin unmarred.

  “You dare question me, prospect?” Jonah snarled.

  The blond visibly blanched. “Again, I’m sorry, Prez. I didn’t meana speak outta line. I just don’t like seein’ kids get hurt.”

  Jonah pointed at Landon. “He’s a kid too, yet you didn’t say anything when he got the shit beat outta him, you even stomped on him.”

  The prospect winced, looking like Jonah had physically struck him. “He deserved it, she doesn’t, plus she’s younger and a girl.”

  “It’s not for you to decide who deserves what!” Jonah yelled. “That’s my job, not a lowly prospect with no balls for a club like this. Take that fuckin’ cut off, you don’t deserve to wear it.”

  “Prez—”

  “Take it off!”

  Grimacing, the prospect slipped the cut off over his bandaged arm.

  Jonah snatched it out of his hand. “And your singlet!”

  Without questioning him, the prospect removed his singlet, displaying a drool-worthy physique, the cut of his hip bones sexy as fuck. His pants were baggy and hanging so low I could see the top of his blonde pubes.

  Jonah pulled out something from... The prospect stepped back, his eyes widening with fear as Jonah flicked open a switchblade.

  Jonah placed the blade over the guy’s heart. “If you speak to anyone outside the club ’bout what happened today, I will personally find everyone you love and slice their hearts out.” He ran the blade over the prospect’s chest, cutting a heart shape.

  The prospect hissed, but remained still. The cut wasn’t deep, but no doubt stung badly.

  “You got that, boy?” Jonah growled.

  The prospect nodded vigorously. “Yes, Prez, I won’t say a word. I’m loyal to the club.”

  “Even now you’re out?”

  The guy nodded again. “Yes. I love the club. I’ll do anything to get back in.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes.”

  Jonah’s eyes dropped to the prospect’s naked torso. “Maybe I’ll have a use for you after all.” He looked back up at his face. “How big are you?”

  “What do ya mean, Prez?”

  “Your cock size.”

  The prospect’s eyes went wide. “What?”

  “You can’t be smaller than eight inches if you’re gonna be of any use to Shirley.” Jonah grabbed the guy’s crotch, making his eyes pop out. “Feels like a good size,” he said, letting go. “How big are you hard?”

  The prospect didn’t reply, his expression too shocked.

  “For fuck’s sake!” Jonah snapped. “Tell me your cock size, and don’t lie, or I’ll cut the fuckin’ thing off.”

  “Nine inches.”

  A biker with a face that looked like it had been hit by a bus said loudly, “Nine inches, my arse.”

  Jonah glanced at him. “Not everyone’s bone is as small as yours, Mutt.”

  The other bikers laughed.

  “I’m fuckin’ big,” Mutt spat.

  “That’s not what your old lady told me when I was boning her,” Reaper said.

  Mutt shot Reaper a glare as the bikers laughed again.

  Jonah shook his head and returned his attention to the blond. “You’re now in our vids.” He slapped the guy’s face, making him wince. “Go to Shirley, she’ll tell you what to do.”

  “Or who to do!” another biker piped up.

  Jonah ignored him, “If you make us some money, I might think ’bout lettin’ you prospect again.”

  When the blond didn’t move straight away, Jonah gave him a shove, causing him to stumble back.

  “Out!” Jonah snapped.

  The guy hurried off, tensing as he passed me. I wondered whether he was upset I’d been hurt too.

  Jonah turned back to Annabelle, who was asking Liam if Landon was all right, her expression concerned.

  “You should show more concern for yourself,” Jonah said, heading for her, “than someone who ratted you
out.”

  She scrambled away from the brothers.

  He leaned down to her, a slight smile pulling at his cruel lips. “If you don’t wanna be hurt like Landon, or worse, killed, don’t speak a word ’bout me or my club to anyone.”

  “Aye,” Annabelle said, wiping her wet cheeks. “I wo-won’t tell anyone. I-I’m no stupid.”

  “Cos if you do, I’ll kill you like I’m gonna kill my son’s murderer.” He raised his knife, the prospect’s blood colouring the tip. “And his mate.”

  My eyes widened. “No! You promised you wouldn’t hurt Dante!”

  He glanced back at me. “Oh, I’ll keep my promise.” His eyes rose to Reaper. “Cos it won’t be me killing him.”

  24

  Dante

  I flopped down next to Clara, fucking spent, not one drop of cum left in me. Clara swung an arm over me, snuggling into my side. I ran a hand over her arse, giving it a squeeze. She was butt naked, her body flushed pink from all the sex we’d had.

  “I beat you that time,” she giggled.

  “Beat me at what?” I asked, nuzzling her ear.

  “I came first.”

  I laughed. “So, it’s a competition now?”

  “You bet it is, and I’ll always win.”

  My eyebrows shot up. “Is that right?”

  “Definitely.” She fisted a handful of my hair and jerked my head towards her, forcing me to look straight into her eyes. “I won you.”

  I chuckled, the high she was giving me way better than any drug.

  She loosened her grip and ran her fingers through my hair, seemingly fascinated by it. “You have the most gorgeous hair. Keep it this length for me.”

  “Sure,” I said, wanting to please her.

  She brushed my fringe off my forehead and pressed a kiss against it. Pulling back, she hooked some hair behind my ears and ran her lips over my cheek. “So beautiful,” she murmured.

  Groaning, I closed my eyes as she nuzzled into my neck. I didn’t want her to ever stop touching me. She was better than any drug—ecstasy in female form, her touch giving me more pleasure than I’d ever felt before.

  Still kissing my neck, she started rubbing against me, the woman insatiable. Her hand ran down my chest and stomach, the cold brush of her wedding ring snapping me out of my high. I grabbed her hand a bit roughly, causing her to jerk back.