Page 15

Dray looks directly at a man on the balcony.

I have never seen him before. I file that away for later.

Then he looks to me. He doesn’t break eye contact as he hops the wall and walks towards me.

His chest and arms are covered in blood, his eyes alight with his kills.

He likes it, that much is clear to see and a dark part of me whispers that I do as well.

This wasn’t just about pleasure though, he might be a bastard, but he doesn’t usually play with them.

This killing was for a reason, I just don’t know what the reason is.

He holds his hand out and then frowns at the blood coating his hands, obviously not wanting it on his precious blades.

Before I can hesitate, I stand and step up to him.

This close, I can smell the copper tang of blood on him and see his chest heave as he catches his breath.

His skin shimmers in the light with his sweat, and I have the strangest urge to lick it.

I quickly strap on the holster, not caring about the blood on my hands.

It’s not the first time, nor will it be the last. I can feel his eyes boring into me, so I watch him as I fasten the buckle.

His eyes heat, the lust and longing evident as he watches me.

I can’t seem to look away and neither can he, the monster in me wants to rise.

To fuck and fight and show these bastards how it’s done.

It’s like he can see the internal fight and takes pity on me.

“I have a job for you,” his voice is a growl. It breaks whatever spell I’m under and I stagger back to the table and sit down heavily.

“I’m on a job,” my voice is steady which I’m proud of. He nods.

“When you are done, come to my clan. You are guaranteed safe passage.” Then he turns and walks away, taking his crazy with him.

It’s like the world rushes back. If he had stayed, I think I might have jumped his sexy ass.

I turn back to the table and grab the bottle, leaving a bloody handprint on it.

Dray has a job for me? That is not good.

I down as much as I can. I can feel the looks being thrown at me.

I have no time to worry though as I see my current target walking through the crowd. Just the distraction I need.

“There he is,” I say to the others with a nod at the lowlife we are hunting. He’s wearing an eye patch and all leather. Seriously, what’s with the leather?

“So, are you going to take the job?” Drax asks. I sip the bottle and watch him.

“Maybe,” I mutter. Honestly, I’m curious, but not curious enough to venture into Dray’s territory, even with his blessing.

“You saw what he did in the ring, right?” he asks. I nod.

“It was a warning, a message,” I drop the bottle back to the table and scan the crowd for my mark.

“To whom?” Jax asks. I tilt my head to make sure I was right. Yep, it was definitely Jax.

“I don’t know, Dray doesn’t usually go in the ring. It’s beneath him. That brutal way of killing the men was a warning to whichever clan they were part of,” I mutter distractedly as I watch the man with the patch.

“That doesn’t bother you?” Thorn asks as I turn back to him in confusion.

“Why would it? There are always fights between the clans. It has nothing to do with me,” Thorn looks at Maxen for a minute.

“Are you taking the job?” Maxen asks, making me lean back with a sigh.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not stupid enough to walk into his territory, but if I don’t, he will just hunt me down.

That would be worse,” I think about it, then wave my hand.

“It doesn’t matter at the moment, he doesn’t know how long my current job will take, so I have some leeway.

” I run my eyes over the crowd again, easily spotting the eye patch man.

He’s drinking alone at a table in the far corner.

I turn back to our table to see the guys leaning over, muttering between themselves.

I don’t bother listening. Instead, I watch the guy out of the corner of my eye.

I read the bill on him, it even mentioned what he did to get it, which is unusual.

Apparently, our one-eyed friend over there walked into a house in one of the outposts.

He tied the family up. He made the kids watch as he tortured and killed their mom and dad.

The son took his eye and so he took the son’s life.

When he walked out, none of the family had survived.

I might kill for survival like the others in the Waste, but purposely killing and torturing for pleasure?

It’s a problem for us all. I don't bother telling the guys, I caught them reading the bill from my bag earlier, so they know what he did. I'm going to use that to my advantage.

I watch him for a while, thinking of a plan.

A whore approaches him and he doesn’t even look at her.

I tilt my head when his eye sharpens. He’s watching a scav that is beating the shit out of another.

A tremor runs through his body and he licks his lips.

Violence, that’s the way to get him to drop his guard enough to knock him down.

This isn’t a return mission after all - this a kill order.

Usually, I wouldn’t take a hit, but Nan knows my feelings about kids.

Didn’t help that it described what he did to the little girl in detail.

Even I have a heart. No, he’s got to die before he does it again, and he will, as I watch him now, I know he will.

The need for bloodshed and violence is in his blood. He’s had a taste and now he wants more.

I have to knock him out. I can’t kill him on The Ring land. That means somehow transporting him out into the neutral zone. Luckily, I have four big men with me. Rumour has it the mark has a car as well. A rough plan forms in my head as I turn back to the guys.

“Do not move from this table, when I knock him out I need you to carry him out of here while I watch our back.”

Jax raises his eyebrow at me. “How do you plan on knocking him out?”

I wink at him. “Leave that to me.” They are all staring at me again.

“Then what?” Maxen asks. I turn to him, my face hardening, and my mask slipping into place. The one that makes nearly every man scared, they all know what it means. Death. I know my eyes have gone cold, but he doesn’t react.

“Then I kill him.” With that, I stand from the table and make my way through the crowd slowly, my eyes on the target. I snag a bottle off a nearby table. The scav it belonged to stands, infuriated, but takes one look at me and sits back down. Smart.

I add a sway to my steps as I get closer to his table to make it look like I’m drunk. Flopping down on his table, I grab on to the edge for stability. I smile a glazed smile at the man and take a swig of my bottle, leaning forward .

“You alone?” I slur. He leans back, disgust clear on his face.

“Fuck off. I’m not interested whore,” he says looking around, clearly dismissing me.

“Hey, I’m not a whore,” I slur at him indignantly. I lean forward again, admiring the blades strapped to his chest.

“Nice knife.” I lean farther forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the table.

“Can I-“ I cut my hand on purpose on his blade.

I hiss and lean back, holding my hand up to the light where he can clearly see.

The blood is slowly making its way down my hand, to my arm.

His pupils dilate and blow, locked on the blood.

He licks his lips. I smirk and grab my hand pretending to try and stop the blood.

Instead, I squeeze more and let him see.

His eye follows it down my arm, to my bandage.

“You’re clumsy; what’s under there?” His voice is low and thick with lust. I look down like I just remembered it was there.

“Accident,” I say slowly. He grabs his blade and leans towards me. I hold my position, but drop my other hand to my blade at my side. He cuts the bandage away, cutting my skin as he does. My cuts are exposed, dry blood crusted around them. His breathing picks up.

“Give me your hand,” he demands as I protest half-heartedly.

He snatches it and pulls it towards him, twisting my arm to a painful angle.

Usually, I wouldn’t make a sound, but a pained noise escapes.

Like I expected, he moans. He squeezes the cut on my hand and I let the little scream escape when pain shoots through me.

He looks like he’s about to cum in his pants.

Lovely. I let him distract himself with my hand.

He touches the edges of the cut, prying it further open.

I slowly inch my hand across the table. He doesn’t notice, too engrossed in playing with my wound.

I grab the bottle I brought with me and lean forward with it clutched in my free hand.

“Hey, asshole,” I say, my words no longer slurred. He looks up and I smash it over his head. His eye widens in shock and then blanks as he slumps forward, unconscious.

“Sick bastard,” I mutter. I bind my new cut with my bandage. Great, another scar. I hear shuffling behind me and spin, my blade already out. I let my breath out when I see it’s just the guys. I jerk my head at the guy.

“Grab him and follow me,” they don’t move until Maxen nods.

Drax and Jax go around the table and grab him under each arm.

Maxen and Thorn just stand and stare at me.

I don’t break eye contact. Maxen slowly blinks and then rips a bandage out of his bag.

Still staring at me, he kneels before me and binds my hand and arm.

I don’t speak, I barely move or breathe at the intensity in his eyes.

It’s different than with Dray. This feels less sexual, more emotional.

Like he’s seeing all my wounds, all my insecurities .

“Ready?” Drax mutters, the strain from holding the man clear in his voice. I blink and look around, realising I had just been staring at Maxen. I stand.

“Let’s go.”