He hands me a beer and tips his toward me. “Feel better?”
I tip my beer back, letting the cold liquid run down my throat. I tilt the bottle and study the way the label wraps around it, while the condensation runs down the brown bottle. “Do I feel better?” I look away from the bottle and lock my angry eyes with Kace’s. “Is Kingsley dead? Is Harper awake? Did we find whoever it is that is leaving threatening notes? Have we figured out why the Vegas Kings tied up our innocents? Oh, and did we figure out why the fuck Kingsley said I stole his daughter and his drugs?” I throw the half empty bottle of beer at the wall and turn around punching the cabinet door. “No Kace, a fucking shower didn’t make me feel any fucking better,” I yell, breathing heavily. The anger is tearing its way out of me and I can’t stop it.
“You done?” he asks, biting his pizza.
“Fuck you.”
“You’re pissed, I get that. Eat this pizza, drink a beer, and fucking talk to me.”
I scrub my face and let out a frustrated groan. “I’m more than pissed,” I say, taking the pizza he offers me.
“Look, I know we have a lot of shit to figure out. That’s why we’re going to the club. Let’s figure it out together. You’re putting it all on yourself and you don’t need to,” he says.
A hollow laugh escapes me as I sit down. “You don’t get it, brother. This is all on me. I started this war. I lit the match, I poured the gasoline, and I stood by watching it explode around me. Brooks said any blood was on my hands and he was right.”
“Z, you did what you had to do. It didn’t go the way you wanted. That’s nothing new for either of us. We just need to figure out how to move forward. There is no blood on your hands, it’s on us all,” he hisses.
He’s wrong. I know he likes to be logical, but right now nothing is clear. My girl is fighting for her life and that’s on me.
“What did you say about taking his daughter and his drugs?” Kace asks, interrupting my thoughts.
I finish the pizza and a fresh beer, leaning back in the chair. I light a cigarette as I lift my shoulders. “That’s what Kingsley said when I was walking in. I have no idea what the fuck he meant by it.”
“We’ve never interfered with his drugs,” Kace says, more to himself.
I shake my head, watching the smoke rise above me. “Sometimes, I think more is going on than we know.”
“Like what?”
The chair scrapes on the floor as I lean forward. “Kingsley started a strip club, why? Because Harper wanted it? He’s never done anything for her. Why would he give her total control of a strip club? To hurt us? Come on, man, if that was it, don't you think he would’ve opened one years ago? I think he did it because something happened with his drugs.”
Kace lights the joint he just rolled and leans back. “Fuck.”
“No shit.”
He passes it to me, and I take a long hit, hoping it relaxes me even a little. When he takes it back, he stares at it for a minute. “You think Brooks and Enzo are in something dirty?”
“Honestly, I have no idea, but I’m gonna find out.”
“Let’s worry about everything else before we start shit we aren’t even sure about,” Kace suggests.
I take a few more hits of the joint and hold it in as long as I can. When I exhale, I smile. “Someone will talk.”
He shakes his head, unsure if I’m right. I will get someone to talk though. One of the Vegas Kings will plead for his life by giving me the information I want. When I get it, I’ll kill him anyway. But not before I know the truth for sure. No more lies, no more secrets. It’s time for revenge and redemption. I don’t give a shit who goes down because of it.
“Can we make this fast? I need to get back to Harper,” I say, looking around the long wooden table.
“Of course,” Brooks states. “Our number one priority is finding Kingsley. I can’t believe that asshole got away.” He turns his eyes to me, and a disgusted laugh leaves me.
“You trying to blame me again? Holding my girl in my arms while she is bleeding from a bullet that was meant for me, instead of keeping my focus on Kingsley? That’s on me, huh?” I yell, slamming my hands on the table.
“Relax,” Kace hisses.
“That’s not what I said, Z. That’s your guilt, not mine. I said we need to find him,” Brooks says.
I lean across the table to grab him, but Riley yanks me back. “Enough. No one is to blame, and no one should be made to feel guilty. Every one of us would have done the same shit and you know it,” he growls, focusing on Brooks.
This room, a room we spend so much of our time in, feels like it’s suffocating me. The dark red walls, the only window covered with black blinds, and the Shattered Souls symbol painted on the wall, mocking me and my failures. I need to get the fuck out of here.