Sin & Suffer (Pure Corruption MC #2)(11)

“Our own little queen back from the f*cking dead.”

“Fuck, her hair looks like the fire she burned in.”

“Show us your scars, pretty princess.”

The voices all crashed around me, eddying in my ears, decomposing with their intentions.

Keeping my face haughty and void, I glanced at the men sitting around the huge wooden table. Empty booze bottles and odor-spewing bongs rested by filthy hands of at least thirty brothers. Unlike Pure Corruption, Dagger Rose’s Club room was messy and untended. Empty beer cans littered the floor and condom wrappers stuck to the stained couches shoved in the corner to make space for the huge table. The walls were covered in graffiti and cracked out Club bunnies lay haphazardly in chairs and on the floor.

There was something to be said for cleanliness washing the wickedness out of one’s soul. Dagger Rose needed a compound-wide disinfection.

A man with a bald head and a tattoo in the shape of a striking cobra licked his lips, wolf-whistling in my direction.

Cobra.

I remember him.

He’d whacked Arthur across the back of the head whenever he caught us doing homework. He said we wasted our time on education when Arthur was destined to always be a bitch.

Another man with long, greasy black hair slurped a wad of tobacco and probed me with his gaze.

I remember him, too.

Sycamore.

Named after his love for making shanks and weapons from the sycamore tree.

He smiled, teeth stained sepia from his nasty habit. “Hello, little Cleo. Fancy seeing you alive, after all these years.”

Snickers and chuckles echoed around the space.

“Fancy seeing you alive and still chewing cud like a cow.”

Sycamore’s fingers dug into the table. He spat the brown mess into an overflowing ashtray. “Your father should’ve used the strap to shut that f*cking mouth of yours.”

I cocked my chin. “My father should’ve done a great many things.”

Like murder you all in your sleep before you murdered him.

Rubix sidled closer, his fists balled by his side. “You’re right, Cleo. Thorn failed on so many accounts. Pity my hell-bound son put him out of his misery like a f*cking dog.”

My heart free-fell as Arthur consumed my soul.

Arthur never wanted violence. He’d been content with love and numbers, only to be smothered by a life he didn’t choose.

Arthur … I’m stalling. I’m doing everything I can to drag this out. But I need you to get here now. Where are you?

The fear I’d been keeping in check crested again.

My time was swiftly running out.

Sighing, as if I’d grown bored of my tiresome subjects, I placed my hand on my hip, hoping no one noticed my tremble. My eyes fell on another biker at the end of the table.

Him.

The one who’d burned me in the Dancing Dolphin motel.

Alligator.

My skin crawled and the acrid scent of my own skin burning haunted my nostrils.

Traitor!

His beady eyes pinned me to the spot. He no longer wore a tan Pure Corruption cut but downgraded to a black Dagger Rose.

I struggled to stay in place. I wanted to launch myself across the room and see how he liked being held down and set alight.

Hiding the flush of rage and fear, I demanded, “What is this all about? You write me a fake letter. You burn me when I follow your breadcrumbs, then steal me from Arthur all over again. If you wanted to kill me—why not just kill me when I didn’t remember? Why not shoot me when I was alone in England?”

Rubix came up behind me, poking my lower back with a gun to march me forward. I recoiled but had no choice. I moved closer and stopped at the head of the table.

“Because this isn’t cut and dry, Buttercup. This isn’t about murdering you to hurt him.”

The wooden table barricaded my way as Rubix jammed me hard against the edge. His hand lashed up, encasing my nape.

“I don’t understand.” I winced as his fingers turned to pincers.

“No, you wouldn’t. How can I put this?” Nudging my ear with his nose, he breathed, “This isn’t about you. No matter what we do to you, remember that you aren’t the target—he is. If I wanted you dead, you’d be two f*cking feet under and the beetles would’ve already enjoyed your taste. After all, you are a f*cking delicacy.” His tongue slimed over my cheek. “But that isn’t my plan. My plan is to show him that all this time he thought he was better than me. Better than his own flesh and f*cking blood. Well, he isn’t and it’s time he learned that the hard way.”

Shoving my head against the table with a vicious push, he glowered at the cracked out whores who’d traded their souls to pleasure devils on earth. “Get out, bitches. All of you.”

Cobra, who sat in the vice president’s seat, glared at the scantily dressed girls. “You heard the f*cking prez. Move!”

Slowly, the rustling of cheap fabric and abused bodies shuffled from comatose into movement. The bikers smirked and occasionally swatted a woman on her behind as the girls traveled the gauntlet to the main exit.

My heart charged thickly, my body growing frigid from pressing hard against the table. Everything inside me wanted to follow them and leave this godforsaken place.

Take me with you!

The men stayed silent until the last girl disappeared in a flash of nakedness and cheap polyester. The anticipation hummed with an electrical charge—all eyes pinned on me.