Antichrist

I start walking around to the passenger side when he follows me with his eyes. I’m going to ignore how good he looks, because I don’t need encouraging where Nikolai Bane Davis is concerned.

“What?”

I pull open the passenger door and grab out the reason why I’m here. Once I’ve got it in my hands, I kick the door closed and pause at the end of my car.

“Why the fuck are you here with food?” I can’t see his face clearly because of the lighting, but I’m already well acquainted with his angry face.

“Because Ma told me to bring it. Leave me alone, Niko, alright?”

I start making my way toward where people are seated at the bar, ignoring the fact that he’s following closely behind me. Reaching into my pocket, I lock my car while swerving through the sea of people—including the sticky naked titties rubbing on my arm. I’d rather naked titties than cock.

Someone whistles as I’m bypassing the table where Niko was sitting. “Damn, he really gonna let you loose up in he—ouch!”

A familiar, rough voice interferes. “And yeah, he will because one, she’ll kick your ass, and two, she’ll kick your ass.”

I pause in my footsteps, backstepping. Leaning down, I kiss Old Man on the cheek. “Thanks, Pop. Don’t need you looking out for me, though.”

“Motherfucker—Meraki!” Niko yells above the music, and people stop their chatter. Well, everyone around us, at least.

“What, Niko?” I look over my shoulder, tilting my head. “Let me take this to Ma and I’ll get right out of your hair.” I spin back around and push through a few girls.

The club girls are huddled in one area, two of them, if I count. Both are wearing nothing but bras and panties, but they’re both watching me closely as I make my way through.

I hit the inside bar and round the corner.

“Hey!” Lila is sipping from the bottle of whiskey. I take the bottle from her and put it on the counter.

“You are underage!”

“Okay, mom.” She rolls her eyes. “They’re in the kitchen.” I’m just stating the obvious for legal reasons. We all know Lila is untouchable here and a lot safer than at any dingy bars.

I make my way through the doors that lead to the kitchen. There’s a dining table with chairs tucked around it, a commercial refrigerator, gas cookers, and a wall filled with writing. Notes, actually.

I block out the wall. I don’t want to risk paying it too much attention since the last note I wrote on it was fueled with anger so potent it had the potential to detonate the entire fucking compound.

“Ma, you’re a shit stirrer.”

Ma turns, wrapping her arms around the back of my neck while tucking a dishcloth into her pocket. “I’m sorry, you didn’t have to come tonight. The cookout isn’t until tomorrow. This is just the boys celebrating”—she waves her arms everywhere—“that.”

“He took the patch,” I whisper to myself. I don’t know why I’m the only one who seems to be confused by Niko taking not just the cut, but the patch.

She lowers herself onto a chair. “Yes, Bub. Are you okay with that?”

“Do I have a choice?” I ask, swallowing past the sand that’s stuck in my throat. “And furthermore, it’s none of my business.”

“Baby, whether you both admit it now, ten years from now, or hell, on your deathbed because you’re both as stubborn as each other, but what you both do will always be each other’s business.”

“—okay, sorry! I got los—”

A woman walks in, blonde, petite, well dressed, and mannered. Nothing at all like the girls out there. Not that I have an issue with them, they’re always the ones who have an issue with me. I went to school with them usually, or their older sisters. But this woman is different. I automatically know she’s an old lady because no one else is allowed in the kitchen except family.

Her blue eyes come to mine. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Interrupt which part?” Ma leans back, her eyes on mine.

I narrow mine because I know what that look is. Ma is terrifying. She’s a hard woman with a soft heart, and those are exactly the types that people should be afraid of, because they have everything to stand for and they’ll use the corpse of their enemies as steppingstones to get there. That has always been Ma. Which is why I think it hurt everyone around her after Niko left when she needed him most, and he her.

“Please, Lydia, take a seat. I want you to meet someone.”

Lydia’s big eyes fly between both of us, but she smiles brightly anyway and awkwardly fumbles to the chair beside Ma. I’m going to guess this is her first time here.

“Are you going to sit, Bub?” Bub has always been my nickname from Ma. Only her.