“What happened to you being the one to take dad his lunch today?” I countered.
My brother glared at me. “Get the fuck out of here, Faith; you have a bar to run.”
“I closed it up for the day.”
“What? Why?”
“Because the only people who ever drink there are you and these morons, you call brothers. What kind of business is that? You really need to start rethinking this club only rule, otherwise you’re going to run mom’s bar into the ground just like you have this club.”
I knew I hit him right where it hurts because I swear to God, I saw steam billowing out of Jimmy’s ears. He was livid, and I wasn’t going to wait around for him to lash out at me again. Last time I did that, he hit me. Instead, I stomped away, jumped in my car, and sped off—heading in the opposite direction of where he told me to go. I had a lot of pent up anger raging inside of me, and I needed to fuck it out. Despite every part of me wanting Specter to be the man I turned to for that, there was only one person I could ask to get me off. If I wanted my information on Midas, I was going to have to stay completely faithful to Diego. Which royally sucks because I’m finding it difficult to suppress this strange attraction I have to Specter. My lust for him is going to have to wait another day, because right now I have something more important to do.
Kill Diego.
Chapter Sixteen
Specter
“You really know how to make an impression, don’t you, Prospect?” Scythe asked me, after he had me follow him into the compound so I could ice my jaw.
Fuck Switchblade for sucker punching me like that. Had I not already known the rules regarding prospects and fighting other members, I would’ve laid him out right then and there. For now, he was untouchable, and I hated that I couldn’t knock the shit out of him like I wanted to. Switchblade had a bad case of the green-eyed monster, and his obsession with Faith would ultimately be his undoing if he wasn’t careful.
“He suckered punched me. Don’t worry, I didn’t hit him back. If I did, he wouldn’t be walking.”
Scythe chuckled, grabbing some ice out of the mini icebox he had in his office and wrapped it in a towel. “I’ve felt your right hook, I bet it could even bring someone as big as Switchblade down if you hit him just right.”
“Guys like him are all talk and no bite. He has some gigantic nut for your sister and seems to think I’m getting in the way of his chance with her.”
“You mean no chance with her. Switchblade may like my sister, but he’s not her type. She likes guys with a hero complex, kinda like you.” Scythe’s eyes narrowed on me. “You remind me of someone I used to know. Someone both she and I cared about. It’s kind of unreal how much you’re like him.”
“You mean, Midas?”
He nodded. “Did Faith actually talk to you about him?”
“A little. Then she got pissed off when I gave her my opinion about this suicide mission she’s running.”
Scythe leaned against his desk. “What do you mean?”
I held my tongue. Crap, I thought Scythe knew what Faith was doing. Obviously, what I overheard the other day was not the whole story.
“Never mind, I probably misunderstood her.”
“Talk, Prospect. Now.” There was no arguing with the Prez when he wanted intel. Now that I’ve talked, I couldn’t go back on it. That would do even more damage than telling him what his sister said.
“Fuck, I’m just starting to get her to trust me, Prez. I don’t know if I can break that trust.”
“I get that, but you took an oath to prospect this club, and in doing so, your intel became my intel. So, you need to tell me what’s going on with my sister, otherwise, I’m going to think that you’re a rat, and from everything I’ve seen of you so far, I have reasons to suspect that you’re not being honest with me. You’re too good at what you do. You walk around this place like you already know where everything is located. Sometimes I see you stare at other members like you’ve known them for years. You act like you know exactly how we work and what this all entails. For a prospect, you sure know your shit, and if I remember correctly, you told me that you’ve never been in a club before. I can tell that was a lie, which makes me wonder what other shit you’ve been lying to me about? So, what’s your story, Prospect? Are you part of the Armada or are you a rat trying to get intel on us?”
My heart was doing things inside of my chest that I couldn’t control. Scythe—Jimmy had been my best friend since I was sixteen years old. It was his family who saved me from my shitty home life, and I’ve been forever in their debt since. For all the years we’ve been friends, I’ve never once lied to him. Standing here, staring at him with that knowing but unknowing eye—his wheels turning in that big ass brain of his, I knew it was only a matter of time before he found me out, and if I didn’t tell him who I was now, it could be bad for me—real bad.
Tell him the truth.
I stared at Scythe for a few seconds, mulling over if this was even a good idea. The problem was, I needed an ally. With Tank and Cipher on my side, I was golden, but in order for this to work, Scythe had to know who I was, too.
I looked at the open door to his office, wondering how far away Switchblade was hiding because I know he had to be listening. I walked over to the door, peeked out, and when I didn’t see any members nearby, I closed the door so I could talk to Scythe privately.
I rubbed my beard with my fingers and stared at Scythe, wondering how he would take knowing my secret.
“You might want to sit down for this story.”
Scythe looked at me warily. “I think I’ll stand, thank you.”
“Seven years ago, someone murdered me.”
“You look pretty alive to me.”
“It’s more of a metaphor than anything else. Someone tried to kill me, okay? They shot me in the back and then buried me outside of town. They thought I was dead, but I wasn’t. When I dug myself out of the shallow grave they put me in, I decided to leave every part of me behind—the parts that were broken, the parts that felt betrayed, I even left my best friend and the love of my life behind because I was too afraid that whoever tried to kill me, would either finish the job or go after them next. So I left. I left this town and never looked back. It wasn’t an easy decision, and now that I’m back and see the aftermath, I regret not coming back to fight for my life sooner.”
Scythe’s eyes danced with realization. “Wait, are you telling me . . . are you?” his question trailed off, tears immediately forming in front of his eyes.
“I was too afraid to come back before now, Jimmy. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt—I loved you all too much to put your lives at risk.”
“JD?” Scythe’s voice cracked. He stared at me with great scrutiny. “You’re alive?”
“I’m alive, but I really wouldn’t call what I’ve been doing the last seven years living. I’m practically a ghost. I don’t stay in one place long enough to get attached to anybody. When I get to the point that people start to feel comfortable with me, I bounce, roving from town to town like a phantom. These last few days being back home is the first time I’ve felt alive in forever.”