"Never liked the fucker. Had a hair-trigger temper the likes of which you wouldn’t believe. Butch used to find him funny, but no one else did. He was nuts."
Even more curious now, I queried, "Did Grim and Hook talk yet?"
Digger shook his head. "Nah. I left them to you."
With a hum, I murmured, "What kind of gear we got down here?"
"All kinds of shit. I laid it out," Digger told me.
Nodding my thanks, I took the last few steps toward the Lockbox which was a lot larger than the Fridge, and cast a glance at the two men guarding the door.
Surprised to see North was standing there, I arched a brow at Digger who shrugged, "Fucker waded into war with you without a second’s thought. Figured he deserved to be in on this."
Smirking a little, I didn’t argue, just nodded at North. "Thanks for having my back, brother."
I’d seen pictures of the destruction of the warehouse over on the edge of the county and was wicked pissed at what we’d lost in the fire and how the fuckers in the Lockbox had used that as a diversion. Still, I decided that’d be my inspiration.
They’d regret it for as long as they lived.
Which wouldn’t be for long.
I turned the door handle and found both men duct-taped to a chair, their heads bowed, their clothes soaked through with sweat because it was fucking hot in here.
There was a naked lightbulb overhead, revealing the grimness of this place in its entirety as well as a table full of gear that was laid out—it made a Lowe’s look understocked.
Still, I didn’t need much for my plan.
I peered around on the hunt for a faucet, finding a fucking fire extinguisher of all things attached to the wall.
"Didn’t know we had to pass the fire safety code in here." I drawled as I walked over to it, unclipping it from its holster on the wall as I hefted it in my hand.
The door opening hadn’t made them lift their heads but my voice did. I caught a glimpse of Hook, saw that his scruff of before had turned into a full-fledged beard of ZZ Top proportions since spring, and I smiled.
His nostrils flared as his head reared back at the sight of my smile, and right he fucking was to be scared.
I held out my hand and asked, "Either of you got a lighter?"
SL cleared his throat but slipped a Zippo lighter onto my palm. I twisted it in my fingers then stepped over to Hook.
"Heard from my kid’s lips that your brothers were going to rape my Old Lady."
His eyes flared wide as his head shook from side to side. "Naw, that wasn’t in the plan."
"No?" I questioned. "You calling my kid a liar? You think she talks about men rapin’ her ma every day of the fucking week?"
His Adam’s apple bobbed. "Sticky, he… Kendra, she wanted that. It was all her idea."
"You’re in the habit of listening to club snatch?" I mused, flicking the roll top on the lighter and watching the flickering flame.
"Sticky, he really liked her."
I shot Grim a look. "Think you must have liked her too, considerin’ Keira saw you cozying up to her in town."
"Knew you were a dumbfuck, Grim, but never realized how big of a fool you were," SL groused.
"Shut the fuck up, Sweet Lips. You’re the one who’s a goddamn turncoat. This bastard comes swaggering in like he’s king shit and you all just drop to your fucking knees and start sucking his dick—"
"Never asked you to suck my cock. Just my balls," I mocked, then I made a prong with two fingers, stuck them up his nose then yanked back. "You’re a fucking dipshit. Only dipshits stick with the losing side when their ass is safe with the victors."
He screamed as I dragged his head all the way back, until the chair was tipping over and I let it fall, let his head clatter against the concrete floor, his scream cut off short as the move knocked him out before I turned my attention to Hook.
"Now, what’s going on with the Rabid Wolves?"
"Nothing." He blinked. Then blinked twice more, really fast.
"You got some kind of Morse Code going down with your lashes?" I retorted, flicking the lighter again. "And if you’re just gonna keep on saying fucking nothing, I’m going to get bored, and I’m going to have to entertain myself."
Digger cackled. "When Storm’s bored, you’re not gonna like it. There are legends about the guy back in West Orange."
Hook gulped, and I twisted back to look at Digger. "Legends?"
"Hell, yeah. Among the Prospects, for sure."
"That true, North?" I called out.
"Sure is, Storm. They say you’re worse than Mother Nature at causing havoc."
I smirked. "Bet your ass I am. Had to tone it down when I got married though. Got a kid. Can’t be raising her that way." Not that it had worked. I had a mini fucking terrorist on my hands. That was all Keira goddamn needed—two of us under the same roof. I flicked the lighter again. "Now, you got one chance to tell me something interesting—"
"I don’t know anything," Hook rambled, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he had the verbal shits. "I really don’t! Sticky was the leader! He just told me about some safes, nothing else."
Safes? Curious for real now, I ignored his remark about not knowing anything else and said, "Grab some water, SL."
He nodded, then headed deeper into the Lockbox. There was a door there, which told me a faucet existed somewhere in this place. He returned with a mop bucket that sloshed as he wheeled it over to my side.
I moved closer to Hook, the light from the flame flickering under his breath. His feet scuttled against the concrete floor, and he started to tilt the seat back, but Digger was there, stopping him and I grabbed some of his beard, held it tight, then wafted the flame beneath it.
He started screaming before the fire even raged into being, and Digger took a step back at the same time as I did after I set his face alight.
Forty-Two
Cyan
PRESENT - THREE DAYS LATER
"What’re you doing?"
Twisting away from the window, where I was watching a bunch of kids playing with water guns, I turned and found Kelly looking at me. He was wringing his hands together, pleating his fingers into knots.
Guilt hit me hard.
The last time I’d seen him had been when we’d played in the street four days ago. I’d called him a wuss, and then I’d pinned him in a headlock. He’d cried afterward.
Now, his eyes were bright pink, but for a different reason.
My mouth wobbled when I thought about how easy it’d have been for me to have lost my mom and dad. In the blink of an eye, everything could’ve changed.
Everything.
Again.
Most of the time, when Kelly made his way over to me, we ended up fighting. But today, I didn’t have it in me to pin him in another headlock. He didn’t know that though, did he?
He tensed up when I patted the window seat beside me. "No, Kelly. I don’t want to fight."
His mouth quivered. "You always want to fight."
He wasn’t wrong. But neither were his words an accusation. More of a sniffled statement.