Page 15 of Hearts Etched in Glass (The Afton Adders #2)

Gossip, Maneskin

The woman in front of me is a vile bitch.

Somehow this thing is related to my heavenly sister-in-law Brielle, her mother to be exact, but maybe I have been mistaken.

Maybe she was adopted or something, because the only thing about her that resembles Brielle is her vertically challenged height and brown hair.

We only recently started this partnership because they were working underneath our noses in Lockham.

Luckily, we ceased their cocaine production that was disguised in the flour factory downtown, and began running weapons through our underground tunnels, versus the funeral parlor they had housed themselves in.

Brielle was sent as a pawn to establish a trade and thank God Everett became obsessed with her rather than murdered her.

Brielle also saved my life, several times.

Again, Brielle did not inherit the shitty, cunt genes. Thank God .

Also, sorry God, I know I’m not supposed to call people cunts and judge, but it is really difficult when there are so many daft fucks running around this world in human suits.

For crying out loud, she has no emotion, we’ve been up here for days upon end trying to accommodate them, but they keep telling us they need more supply.

More fuel. More bullets. More armory. More steel.

What's next? A bloody fucking dragon? Like I could pull that out of my arse, without getting a hemorrhoid.

Kenneth pinches my thigh and leans into my side. “Fix. Your. Face.”

I am really getting sick of people telling me that, and I cannot fix my face when Germans constantly sound like they are yelling.

Their accent is so harsh, and when they speak, the vowels and consonants assault your ear drums. I'm about to tell my brother to kindly fuck off, but the ice-queen opens her mouth.

“Do you understand our resources are being stolen by Nazi parties? They take what is ours!” She stands with her hands held out in frustration, her face scorned.

Kenneth sits with his arms crossed, his bolero hat hung low on his brow. “I thought you were making a deal with their leader?”

She throws herself back into the chair and runs a hand through her hair. Her husband sits beside her, while several men surround their side of the table. We are in a worn-down welding mill, in God knows where.

The ten boxes of rifles and handguns were apparently not enough, as well as the fifteen crates of vehicle parts.

“If we get you another shipment it is going to take probably a month or so to collect those products. Things don’t just magically appear or grow,” Kenneth chides, writing down the demands she hollered earlier.

“Fine! We pay you for what is here today,” she sneers, then rolls her eyes in irritation at us.

“Oi!” Kenneth points his pen at her. “Don’t fucking make it seem like we didn’t give you exactly what you asked for.

Shit we threw in an extra box, like Everett told us to, as a nice gift.

Be more fucking grateful, you goddamn kraut.

I wouldn’t be working with you if it wasn’t for my brother!

” Tension builds within the confines of the building.

I hear a gun cock at someone’s side as the she-devil glares at Kenneth.

God in heaven. Though I walk through the gangster life of shadow and death, I will fear no irritating krauts for thou art with me.

Your rod and staff comfort me as weapons to possibly blast into a mother fucker.

Please let us go home safely so I can see Tilly and Marcus, and please let this lady shut the fuck up so Kenneth doesn’t blow her brains out and we have another gang war. Amen.

Movement erupts. Guns get pulled in all directions as Kenneth reaches under the table, grabbing a large briefcase and setting it on top of the table between us and Brielle's parents.

“You piss me off one more time, I open this.” Kenneth hits some button, and the side opens to reveal adders crawling around within the vented, glass casing. My eyebrows reach my hairline in surprise.

Nifty .

“We leave. Alright?” the husband mumbles with his hands in the air, like Kenneth has a gun drawn at him .

“Does anyone have anything else to add?” He looks around the table, then the Immertreu clan leave the warehouse.

Kenneth and I sit in silence, watching them exit the building.

I would have never thought anyone would be more hateful then my brother Kenneth, but I guess life can surprise us.

A thought enters my mind as I look around at our me accompanying us.

“Kenneth, how come the twins, Gregory and Jacob, aren’t here doing business with us? ”

His gaze is still a fixed on the warehouse doors, they left from. There’s a smug expression across his face; his arms are crossed and leather gloves creaking as he flexes his hands beneath his arms.

“They are assigned to other business in America. Assisting Everett with the farm and shipping stock back and forth from America.”

I nod.

“You ever think you’ll get married? Like Brielle and Everett?” I ask.

His head snaps in my direction, arms still crossed, while his eyes look menacing.

“Are you going to stop your fucking questions? You’re irritating me.

” Then he rubs the back of his neck. “And no. I don’t want to marry a fucking kraut like Everett.

Let alone get married to some half-witted woman.

Marriage is a silly construct to try and settle the inner beasts within men’s souls. ”

I roll my eyes at him.

"Well, at least everything appears to be in order. Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity together! Psalm 1-." Before I may reference the scripture, Kenneth is standing from his chair, eyes wild and grip settled on my throat.

"Never speak Bible shite around me, ever again." His threat causes my bones to shiver with unease as I place my hands over my heart in a promising gesture.

After we conclude our business at the warehouse, we check shipments, staff morale and begin to leave the area. When I walk outside, I notice near our vehicles a parked trailer on the side of the welding mill.

“What is that?” I point in it's direction.

Kenneth begins walking towards the trailer, so I follow along. Once near it, we see a beautiful stallion, with a snow white under tone and black peppered spots. Its snout comes up between the opening of the trailer to sniff my fingers that are curled on the metal frame.

“Absolutely gorgeous.” I mutter in amazement.

Lyle comes up and slaps my back, with a shit eating grin, as I furrow my brow at him. “Is it what ya wanted, boss?” He looks up at Kenneth, and a faint smile etches across my brother's face as he nods.

“It is called an Appaloosa; they are supposed to be an excellent breed for barrel racing,” Kenneth explains as he leans against the trailer frame. “Figured you might want a horse that won’t fight you as you try to live your cowboy dreams.”

I gaze up at my brother, mouth agape.

“Kenneth, I can’t take this. It is so perfect. And you don’t do these types of gestures. Are you feeling well?” I reach for his forehead, but he slaps at my hand.

“Don’t ruin the moment, prick.” Then I breach his space, moving swiftly to wrap my arms around him and deliver the most uncomfortable, embarrassing hug, before he clobbers me on the head.