Page 8 of Tortured Souls

“Oh yeah? What kind of routine?” I ask, my own smirk pulling at the corner of my lips. Finn doesn’t look up from his lighter when he replies.

“The usual girl shit. She shaves her legs, applies lotion, does her fifteen-step face washing thing, and puts on those stupid under eye jelly things. You know what I’m talking about?” Finally, he looks up at the pair of us, noticing our twin smirks.

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? Fucking bastards.” Clicking his lighter shut, he stands from his chair. Flipping us off, he heads to the door, Saint and I laughing at his infatuation with his adopted sister. It’s strange, yes, but they aren’t technically related, so to each their own.

“I’m going home. Eat shit, fuckers. Call me if you need me!” Finn yells from over his shoulder.

“Tell Frieda I said hi!” Saint yells at him as the door closes with a slam behind him.

“He’ll fuck you up for that comment, you know that.” I chuckle to myself, going back to looking at my computer screen in front of me.

“Oh, he can try. Can’t say I don’t want a good fight. Been itchin’ for something. Feel like my hands have been too clean these past few weeks.” Saint’s right. We’ve both been pretty tame for the most part. Not the usual for the pair of us.

“That streak is about to end,” I mumble under my breath. Damien Devonte’s days are numbered, if I have anything to do with it.

A few days have passed since Finn got us the address for Damien’s apartment. Saint and I have been tailing his every move. The day is coming that we will take him down, and that day can’t come soon enough. My phone vibrates in my pocket while I sit in my home office. Before pulling out my phone, I turn off my computer screen. The images of Skylar working behind the bar go black. It’s a text from Saint, who is literally in the next room. Lazy ass couldn’t just come into the office to tell me whatever he needs to tell me.

Saint:

Might want to come to the foyer. Your sister and her crew look like they’re about to dance on the pole.

“Jesus,” I mutter to myself, standing from my chair and pushing away from my desk. I make my way down the hall and hear the girls talking with Saint, no doubt giving him a hard time.

“Yes, the girls are taking me out for my birthday, and we all decided on dancing. Is that okay with you,Dad?” My little sister loves riling Saint up, and I can see his pulsing vein in hisneck from where I stand in the hallway. I decide to make myself known before she really starts butchering him with her words.

“No, he’s not your dad, but I’m your brother, and what I say goes.” I don’t miss the look of utter surprise that crosses over my baby sister’s face. She wasn’t planning on me hearing her back talk, and her face shows it. It dawns on me; this is what Finn was talking about when he mentioned the girls taking Sage dancing for her birthday. I give her more stern brotherly words before I accept the fact that my sister deserves to have fun like any other twenty-one-year-old.

Without too much more of a fuss, I inform Saint to tell the boys to meet at Capital Vice. An order he is all too happy to comply with. What better way to keep an eye on my sister than by accompanying her to the club? Plus, there’s a little killer, who just so happens to be my favorite bartender, working tonight. Leaving the foyer, I head to the kitchen and pop open a beer to get the evening started. Smiling to myself, I pull my phone out and open the app for my security cameras.

Sky is still behind the bar, busy like every other night she’s working. Capital Vice is the most popular club in town. The bar is swarming with college-age kids laughing and having a good time. Sky has her own smile on her face, conversing with a group of wannabe tough guys at the end of her bar.

I down the rest of my beer, Saint coming into the kitchen just as I toss the bottle in the garbage.

“Let’s take my car. It’s pouring outside.” I give him a nod and follow him to the garage where it’s parked. I take one last look at Sky and then switch over to the basement camera. It’s currently empty, and I wonder if she has plans for her next victim any time soon? Closing out of the app, I can’t help the grin that pulls at the sides of my mouth. Saint looks over at me as I round the front of his car and jump in the passenger seat.

“I know that look. Whose life are you about to fuck up?” Saint asks me, his menacing grin matching my own as I settle into my seat.

“Not quite sure yet, but we’ll know very soon.” He laughs at my response and soon backs out of the garage, skidding his tires in the driveway as we make our way to the main road. Tonight should be fun.

SKYLAR

A beer, two whiskey neat’s, a martini with extra olives, and four shots of patron. I line up the man’s order in front of him at the bar as he starts handing out the drinks to his friends behind him.

“Thanks again, Sky! You’re the best!” Chance calls to me as he slaps me two one-hundred-dollar bills before turning to his friends and continuing with his night. It’s busy tonight, but I’m not complaining—the tips have been phenomenal. I continue down the bar, grabbing beers, shots, and a few mixed drinks here and there, allowing the hustle and chaos to keep me focused. I love being a bartender. The people, the company, andthe constant movement block my brain from wandering and thinking of anything else but the task at hand.

As introverted as I am, I love being around people when the darkness becomes too much. The past likes to find its way to the forefront of my brain and fuck up my days. So being behind the bar prevents that from happening. I don’t like lingering in the past. The memories that molded me into the deranged woman I am always seem to be the ones that want the spotlight. Like my mother constantly belittling me and telling me I’m no better than the dirt beneath her stilettos. She never hid the fact that she hated me and Seven; no, she almost felt joy in letting us know her hatred was strong. She never wanted us, but my father needed an heir, and unluckily for her, she got pregnant with twins. I push those thoughts away and get back to work.

“What’s your name, gorgeous?” A blond-haired man calls to me over the loud music. It’s EDM night, and the music is blaring and beating through my body. It’s hard to hear my own voice at times.

“What was that?” I yell back at him, his smile growing wider as I try to lean in closer to hear him.

“I said, what’s your name, gorgeous?” I pull back from his face. As I’m about to give him my name, a brute of a man slides between the guy and the bar, settling right in front of me. I look over at the blond man, who is starting to give the intruder a look before he realizes who it is. With that, he tips his beer in my direction, and I give him an apologetic smile.

“What do you want, Saxon?” I yell at him over the music. He gives me his usual devilish grin before lifting his hand, splaying his fingers out, indicating he wants five beers. I catch a glimpse over his shoulder and see all five of his goonies huddled together at the table I just saw his sister and her friends at. Poor girl can’t get away from her brother and his crew of miscreants for one night. I’m starting to feel her pain when it comes toher obnoxious brother, who’s now made himself comfortable leaning against my bar.

Perfect.

I grab his five beers, and he slides me his card. I start a tab for him and give him my best fake smile as he gives me a quick once over.