“Family?” I scoff. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a Wolf, girl, and have been since the day you were born.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head and scrunching my face in distaste. “‘I'm no Wolf and I sure as hell am no Widow, but I know where my loyalties lie. I don’t want anything to do with your stupid gang.”
A hand shoots out and slaps hard across my face, leaving a stinging ache in its wake. “Watch your mouth,” Russo spits. “The Wolves are your family whether you like it or not. Out of respect for your father, I’ve kept my distance, but I’m not a very patient man. With Dominic Garcia now leading the Black Widows, it’s time for you to come home. You could be of great use to me.”
I laugh at him. “You think I'm about to come and sit by your side in your shitty little clubhouse and tell you everything I know on Nic and the Widows. Yeah, fucking right.”
“Careful,” he says, stepping into me and forcing me back a step, only to stumble over the gunman’s boot and fall into the brick wall of the alleyway. “Keep talking like that and my men may get the impression that you’re a traitor to who you are, to your father, and your family.”
Fuck. Being labeled a traitor by anyone is never a good sign, even if they’re not your people. That’s practically begging for a bullet through my temple, but at the same time, I won’t turn on the boys—they’re my family.
“I am not a Wolf,” I tell him, raising my chin in defiance. “And I sure as hell won’t be giving up Nic to you. I’d sooner die.”
His men step closer and I become completely surrounded by Wolves. “Let me at her,” one of them snaps. “She’s not loyal. She’ll only stab us in the back and cause problems. Just end her now before it gets out of hand.”
Russo places his hand against the guy’s chest and he instantly retreats, like some kind of lap dog. The two share a look and Russo’s little Wolf goes white. Apparently speaking out of turn is a big no-no and threatening to take out the girl that the boss man clearly has plans for is an even bigger mistake.
Russo looks back at me and somehow the leer he gives me is a million times worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s darker than my soul during those moments with Jude, it’s more lethal than Nic with a blade, and fuck, it’s a shitload worse than any damage my father could have ever done. He’s the real definition of a monster. The shit my boys bring to the table is just child’s play. This right here is the big leagues and I’m in over my head.
“Listen here, pup,” he says, folding his hands together and drawing my attention to a chunky, black ring on his left hand that has an engraving of a Wolf. He slips it off his finger and hands it to one of his men. “Whether you like it or not, you belong to me. You’re a Wolf and you’re going to be in my ranks. You are loyal to me.”
I swallow my protests, being smart enough to know when to keep my damn mouth shut, only when he looks to the tattooed man who’d chased after me and led me into this fucked-up trap, his next words have screams of terror tearing from my throat. “Turn her around.”
In a flash, the tattooed man grabs me and spins me around. I’m slammed back against the brick wall with both of my wrists locked in his tight grip behind my back. My face is pressed hard against the rough wall and I feel the brick slicing through my soft skin.
I fight against his hold, fearing the absolute worst. “LET ME GO,” I scream, desperately trying to free my hands and kick out against his vice-like hold.
I hear a strange sound, one that’s familiar but one that I can’t quite place. I try to peer around to see what’s going on, but the tattooed man holds me tighter. He steps right into me and I feel his horrid warmth against my back. “This is going to hurt just a little.”
My breath comes in sharp, terrified gasps as another guy steps into me and bunches up my hair until the back of my neck is completely on display. “NO,” I scream. “NIC IS GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU FOR THIS, JUST LIKE HE KILLED THOSE SCUM LOSERS WHO SHOT KIAN.”
Laughter sounds at my back and just as Russo takes a step closer, that odd familiar sound suddenly clicks and my blood runs cold.
It’s a fucking blow torch.
He’s going to brand me like cattle.
I scream louder, absolutely terrified for what comes next when a rough hand presses down over my mouth, muffling my cries. Russo steps in right behind me and the tattooed man moves out of his way but doesn’t dare let up on his hold.