Tirone (The Night Skulls MC #2)(12)

“Yes. I know a lot of things about her…issue.” I didn’t want to elaborate in the middle of the lounge. There were other members that weren’t on the council and prospects and sweetbutts. They could hear us.

He cocked a brow at me. Then, suddenly, he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and dragged me with him, yelling, “Church!”

Fuck, how much I wanted to break his hand and hear his bones smash while he yelped like a bitch and I laughed my ass off at him. But I put it in the snap bank. People had spank banks. Mine was full of nothing but Jo. I had a snap bank, though. Images of my doing all kinds of evil to the people who hurt her. To the people who hurt me. By that last part I meant Laius fucking Lazzarini.

Practically, the second we entered the meeting room—Church—he threw me in a seat so hard I almost toppled and fell off it. He shut the door in the face of his gang, and no one dared say a thing. Their shadows waited outside like good dogs until their master let them in.

Yeah, that was how I saw the Night Skulls. I hated them and whatever they represented. I didn’t see the loyalty and brotherhood they preached. I didn’t see the twisted concept of family they were raveled in. I didn’t see an MC as any shit but as a pathetic excuse to get laid, cheat, snort, get high on power trips to feel like a man when you were a pussy and cash on illegal shit because you were a loser and couldn’t do any better in life.

Why did I just ask to patch in if I rejected what they were and their ways? Because it was the only way to get Jo back. For her, I’d do anything, and without her, there was nothing I wasn’t ready to destroy.

He snarled at me, bending over me, grabbing my shirt again. Okay. Looked like it was going to be a one-on-one session for a bit.

“Spit it out.”

“Which part?”

“Start with how you mysteriously knew about the heat on her already.”

“How do you know I know?”

“Don’t get smart on me, boy. The shit you told her in the Boiler when you were trying to make her see me as a piece of shit pussy, thinking I’d fuck her over and give her to the Lanzas.”

“Oh, that.” I smirked, as obnoxiously as possible. “Well, I’ve known her for almost a year before she fell into your lap. I probably know a lot of shit about her you don’t even know.”

“Rex!”

“My name is Tirone. You made it clear I’m not a member and have to earn my fucking patch. Doesn’t the road name come with it?”

His nostrils flared. His hands almost tore my shirt off me. “Very few people know about the heat on her and the reason for it. A student of hers wouldn’t know any of it…unless…” He looked like he was about to punch me. It seemed like he wasn’t that much of a dumbfuck. He had some brains on him and might have figured it out. Before him, there were about two people in the world who knew who Jo really was. I and the man who saved her that night they tried to kill her. Then she met Furore, and it seemed like the whole world now knew, or, at least, suspected. But no. I wouldn’t let him know the truth yet. That would ruin my plan. Besides, I wasn’t done with toying with him.

I swear when I’m done mindfucking you, you’re gonna wish you were dead instead. “Unless I’m John McNamara’s kid who lives with him in the same house?”

Anger flashed in his bloodshot stare for a second, but then it turned into relief and understanding. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Now, about that patch?”

“Tell me what you got first.”





CHAPTER 7


Furore



“He came to the house, that man, Armando Lanza. He asked to see me. Dad couldn’t say no,” Rex started.

Dad. A word I hadn’t heard from him about me, his real father, in years. It tore my heart every time he said it to someone else, especially someone as shitty as McNamara.

“Mom was pissed ugly, but she couldn’t say no either. That’s when I knew for sure the boogeyman in the living room was someone like you. Except a hundred times more powerful and wore a suit.” He loved to trash my ass to piss me off.

However, when your son compared you to a Mafia enforcer, you knew you fucked up, even when you had an enforcer on your crew yourself. How could I endure all that hate from my blood? How could I ever change it?

“Anyway, I talked to him. He was asking me subtle questions about school, at first, but then the whole conversation turned into an essay interview about Miss Meneceo. The questions were so weird. Was she ever blonde? Did she always wear shades? Was it true she was fucking one of us?”

I leaned forward in my seat at the head of the table, all my senses at their highest. “What?”

“There was a rumor she was…you know. Nobody believed it. I mean, look at her. She’s the epitome of seriousness and innocence. She’d never.” Except she did. “I have no clue how she ended up with someone like you,” he mumbled.

“Do you know who he is?” I sounded calm, but there was chaos underneath.

“Who?”

“The boy from the rumor.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I just told you it was just a rumor.”

“So what, they just said she was fucking a student and never mentioned who?”

“Whom.”

Anger spiked under my skin. “Fuck you.”