Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(58)

“Worth it just to have it done with,” I say, and she nods.

“The others… they weren’t this difficult,” she says, staring down at the table. “Not as well guarded. There was always an in somewhere. I moved through them like a ghost. Sometimes I didn’t kill them myself, but I was pulling the strings to get it done, one way or another.”

“Playing mastermind instead of getting your hands dirty?” I ask, cocking my head.

She shrugs. “Whatever it took. I had to make sure they died. You know the Black Roses in Fairview Heights?”

I nod. The Heights are just a couple hours away from Detroit. With all the tabs Gage keeps on other gangs in the area, we heard all about their rise to power.

“There was a girl named Mercy who was working with them. I gave them insider information about a rival gang called the Jackals and let her take down their leader. Hugh.”

She says the name like it tastes bad in her mouth.

“Mercy did the dirty work for me, but I got the feeling she needed that. That she needed to be the one to take him down, so I let her have it. Two birds with one stone or whatever. It was easier for me, since she had an entire crew backing her up.”

“How’d you get the info to give them in the first place?”

“I got close to him the best way I knew how.” She gives me a look, and I can tell what that means. She fucked him or one of his seconds and got them to open up to her or something. Usually seems to work. Especially when you’re as hot as River is.

“But… it’s not the way I’d do it if I had my choice,” she admits.

I lean forward a little over the table, getting close like we’re about to share a secret. “How would you do it?”

“I’d kill them all face to face,” River tells me, and her tone goes cold. “I’d rather make them bleed, cut by cut. I’d make them suffer like they deserve to suffer, and I’d kill them in the end, but only after they were begging for death.”

Fuck.

I’m out of my chair before I even realize it, crossing around the table to reach her and grabbing a fistful of her hair. I drag her head back and lean down to devour her mouth, kissing her hard and hungry.

Hearing her talk like that got to me. I can feel my cock stiffening in my pants, my blood pumping. I can feel the connection between us, that spark of two souls who understand each other. I don’t know the details of her situation, the specifics of her past, but I don’t need to know them to recognize exactly how she feels.

That’s how I would have wanted it too, if I was hunting down a bunch of fuckers who deserved it. I’d want them to know it was me, to know they were going to die because they were stupid enough to fuck with me, and I’d wait until they were begging for it in the end. Until death was almost a mercy.

I kiss River again, taking what I want, plunging my tongue into her mouth like I want to savor every single thing about her. I can feel her moan as it vibrates through her chest, and she kisses me back, one hand fisting in my shirt to hold on to me.

When I pull back, I feel flushed and breathless, but more alive than I have in a while. The monster is there, pacing just under my skin, and I go with it.

With a smirk, I go to the bar cart and grab the whiskey.

I plunk the bottle down on the table along with two shot glasses and fill them both up, sliding one over to River.

She takes it and knocks it back like an old pro.

I watch the way her throat bobs when she swallows with hungry eyes and then take my own shot.

“I did that, you know,” I tell her, holding her gaze. “What you want to do. I killed my uncle, and I made him beg for it. I made him want death more than anything else in the world, and then I gave him what he wanted.”

“Why’d you kill him?” she asks, studying me as I down my shot.

A grin tugs at my lips. “That’s not important right now. We can each keep our secrets.”

I pour another round of shots and we both drink them, thumping the glasses down on the table at the same time.

I lean in, still hungry for her. There was no disgust on her face when she heard about me killing my uncle. No look of pity or her telling me that he was family and you’re not supposed to kill family or whatever the fuck.

She just accepts it for what it is and knows he probably did something to deserve it. She doesn’t know my story either. But she knows enough.

I grab her around the back of the neck and crush our lips together again, kissing her hard.

There’s teeth and tongue in it, and she licks into my mouth with a low noise of pleasure.

Heat pumps through me, and I’m running on pure instinct at that point. Just going from one motion to the next, doing whatever feels good.

I grab the bottle of whiskey and pour some down her front, slopping the liquid against her chest. Then I rip her shirt open, showing off her wet tits. Her chest is so fucking nice, and I drag my tongue down her skin, savoring the sharp taste of the booze. But it’s not enough. I want more.

I grab a shot glass and smash it against the table, choosing one of the big shards and dragging the sharp edge of the glass down the space between her breasts.

She gasps at the edge of pain but doesn’t pull away. Instead, she arches closer to me, like she’s daring me to cut her deeper, to push her harder.

River never fucking backs down, and it calls to something in me that I can’t ignore. It riles up that monster, making it pace like a predator trapped in a cage. I want to fucking devour her, I want to make her scream.