Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen 5)

“Keep the fuck off her!” I snarled. Vike’s eyes were wide as he glared at me. But I wasn’t done. I came at him again, grabbing his collar and pulling him close to me. “Keep your motherfucking hands off her, or I swear to God you won’t be no brother of mine anymore.”

A hand landed on my shoulder, and I spun round. Flame was there, dark eyes wide and nostrils flaring. I wrestled his hand from me and stormed toward Phebe. I didn’t even give her a chance to react, just took her arm and dragged her from the bar. I passed Ash, whose face was bright white. “Keys,” I demanded as Phebe tried to pull away from me. I held on tight to the bitch. She was pissing me the fuck off.

Ash handed me the keys to the truck, and I left the clubhouse with the whore in tow. I heard the sound of Lilah’s and Mae’s panicked voices. I heard Ky trying to come after me. “AK!” he shouted as I reached my truck. I opened the passenger side door and threw Phebe’s almost-naked ass into the seat. I slammed the door and moved around the hood to the driver’s side. “AK!” Ky shouted again. I rounded on him, prepped for another fucking fight. The VP was looking at me weird. He gave me a wide berth. Good fucking choice. “Where the fuck you think you’re going with her, brother?”

“You texted me to sort this out. So that’s what I’m fucking doing.”

Phebe’s hand came to the driver’s side window and started hammering on the glass. She was shouting some shit I couldn’t decipher, trying to get out, screaming like a fucking banshee. Ky watched her as she almost broke the glass in rage. “You think Li is gonna just be okay with me letting you take her sister?”

“You know how to deal with her like this? You know how to deal with a damn junkie? One who’s insistent on trying to fuck her way through the club, cock by cock?” My patience was running thin. Phebe moved to her ass and started kicking at the window with her feet. I heard the seal break; she was about two seconds from shattering the glass. “You got a kid to worry about now. Let this bitch be my problem.” My jaw clenched, and I felt a blade stab in my chest. “Fuck knows I’ve dealt with shit like this before.”

I didn’t wait for Ky’s response. I opened the door and pushed inside. Phebe’s hands came raining down on me as she tried to fight. Taking hold of her arms, I pushed her down into her seat and met her furious face. “You fucking stay there. Don’t push me, bitch. Don’t fucking push me.”

Her skin was damp with sweat, and she was panting hard. If looks could kill I’d have been ash in seconds. Taking advantage of her brief stillness, I turned on the engine and pulled out of the lot. I hit the dirt path at a stupid speed and focused on getting the hell back to my cabin. It didn’t take the rabid bitch long to attack again. Practically climbing across the console, she sliced her nails down my arms and neck. I kept my eyes on the road, not giving one fuck about the blood she was drawing. The only time I reacted at all was when she sliced four fingers down my cheek.

I pushed her back until she was in her seat, out of breath and eyes glazed from too much fucking liquor. I turned into the clearing and slammed the truck into park. She was out of the passenger side door before I could even move. I flew out of my door and sprinted after her ass as she fled for the trees. I reached her in no time and threw her thin body over my shoulder. Phebe clawed at my back. “Let me go,” she spat, pounding her fists on my shoulder blades.

I opened the door to my cabin and locked us inside. I put her down on the floor. She staggered back as she righted herself. The light from the kitchen was brighter than the bar, and I took a good look at her eyes. The whites were dull and her eyelids were hooded. Black makeup had smudged around her eyes, making her look like a damn raccoon.

“Calm the fuck down,” I ordered.

Phebe’s pale skin reddened as she fumed on the spot. I stood my ground, folding my arms across my chest. Then the bitch struck. Her hand sliced across my face. And this time there was fucking force behind it. My head snapped to the side. I’d had enough. Moving forward, I pushed her back to the wall of the hallway. “I swear to God, bitch, I’ll break you if you do that again,” I hissed, getting right in her face.

She spat at my cheek. “Let me go!” I could smell the liquor on her breath.

“Why, so you can go fuck some greasy asshole? So you can get your pussy filled, like the fucking whore that you are?”

“Yes!” she screamed, fighting against my hold. When she couldn’t get free, she brought her face closer and smiled coldly. “I like to be fucked. I like to come. I like dick, and I love nothing more than having someone stick their cock in my mouth then come down my throat.” The anger that been simmering inside me flared up at the shitty words coming out of her mouth. “And you weren’t so opposed to my pussy the other night,” she taunted. She reached out and bit my earlobe. Bit it fucking hard. I yanked my head back, and she laughed right in my face. “When I had your cock in my mouth, then deep inside of me. I rode you and I made you scream.”

My hands shook on her arms as I battled not to hold her too tight. “You wanna be fucked that bad, slut? You want me rip into you and make you scream?”

“Yes,” she shouted and tore one of her arms free. She didn’t hit me like I thought she would. Instead her eyelids lowered, and she ran her hand down my stomach until it landed at my cock. She met my eyes and I met hers, and we both just fucking froze. Adrenaline and anger mixed in my veins. I heard the clock ticking in my kitchen and the sound of my AC kicking in. I heard Phebe’s too-fast breathing. She stared. I stared. And I wasn’t too sure who moved first, but one minute I was awash with seething anger, about ready to blow my shit and kick her ass, the next, her mouth was on mine and her tits were right against my chest and my dick was hard.

Phebe moaned as I let go of her arm and yanked down her top. Her tits sprang free, and I cupped them in my hands. Phebe’s fingers snapped my jeans open. I broke from her mouth when her hand fisted my cock. “Fuck,” I snapped and lowered my head to take her tit into my mouth. Her free hand wrapped into my hair, pulling at the strands. I sucked on her nipple as her hand stroked up and down my cock.

Her breathing was fast and her skin was slick. I pushed her skirt up to her hips. I tore at the scrap of nothing of her panties, ripping them and flicking the ruined material away. My hand slid along her cunt and through her pussy lips until I met her clit. She cried out into my shoulder, then licked at my neck, lapping at my skin. I closed my eyes when her lips came back on mine and her tongue thrust into my mouth. She groaned and moaned and gasped as I took her fucking mouth, making the bitch forget the asshole from the alley and Vike.

The thought of her fucking with other men made my blood pound even harder through my veins. Pulling my hands from her clit, I bent down and took hold of her legs. Lifting her up was nothing at all. Phebe moaned and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I backed her up against the wall, then in one fast push, slammed inside her wet cunt.

“AK!” Phebe called out as her head tipped back and hit the wall behind her. I was a fucking man possessed as I thrust into her. Phebe brought her hands to my face and held me in place. She stared into my eyes as I worked my hips, biting on my lip at the feel of her hole choking my dick. Her moans were low and long. Her lips met mine. She fucking ate at my mouth, and I swallowed her cries. My hands gripped her thighs tighter as I drove into her. Her nails raked at my skin, but it only pushed me on.

I plowed into her, harder and harder, until I felt her pussy begin to clench. My balls began to ache, and I tore my mouth from hers, tucking my head into her neck. Her cries came louder and louder and her hips rocked faster against mine.

“AK . . .” she said, her voice no longer screaming and mad. Her breathy voice was cracked, losing all its anger. And then she came, breath hitching against my skin. Her hands slipped to the back of my neck, her nails drawing blood. With three more thrusts, I came inside her, jerking, sweat dripping down my back, her back scraping against the wall.

And then it all went quiet.

It was quiet, except for our breathing. S

ilent enough that I heard her crying before I felt the tears falling down my neck. I heard her crying before I felt her shaking in my arms.

I lifted my head, and Phebe tightened her arms around my neck like I was anchoring her. I blinked, not knowing what the fuck to do. As gently as I could, I brought my hand to her face and moved her head from the crook in my shoulder. Phebe resisted at first, but gave way when I said, “Red. Look at me.”

Her cheeks were flooded with tears, the pale skin marked with black from her eye makeup. Her red lipstick was smudged across her face. Her tits were out of her ruined top, and her hair was a mess.

She was breaking my goddamn heart.

“They will let me see her now,” she slurred quietly. “If I am successful, they will let me hold her hand.”

What the . . . ?

I brushed the tears off her cheeks with my thumb. She took hold of my hand with her shaking fingers and brought it to her lips, and I felt as though I’d taken a punch to the face. She stared at the broken skin on my knuckles from the fight, kissed over the smear of blood—I didn’t know if it was mine or belonged to someone else.

She dropped my hand and gazed at the floor. I stared at her downturned head, and fuck if I didn’t hold her that much tighter.

She was broken.

Lost.

Her words from earlier in the week circled my head. I didn’t know how long I stayed against the wall, just holding her. But eventually all the liquor she’d consumed took its toll, and her forehead fell onto my shoulder. Her breathing evened out, and she fell asleep.

I pulled out from inside her and fastened up my jeans with one hand. Phebe shifted in my arms, but she didn’t wake. I carried her through to my bedroom and laid her down on my bed. I pulled the comforter over her almost-naked body. When I looked down at her looking like some fucked-up lost whore, a piece of me died. The sleeves of her top were ripped, showing her scars from the needles. And now we were out of the bar, I could smell the scent of liquor evaporating in waves off her skin.

I pulled off my shirt and cut and tossed them to the floor. As I walked into the bathroom I caught my reflection in the mirror, and I froze. The skin on my cheeks, neck, chest and upper back was scratched to fuck and red with blood. Phebe’s lipstick was smeared across my face. My eyes were dark, and as I took a step forward, I was no longer looking at AK, a brother of the Hangmen. Looking right back at me was Xavier Deyes, sniper in the Marines, Special Ops. I knew this fucker and regarded him with nothing but hate. This fucker lived with death in his eyes.

And I thought I’d put him to bed years ago.

Clearly Red could nudge him awake.

Frustrated, not wanting to see his face, I clenched my fist and slammed it into the glass. It shattered in my sink, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened, the lack of the breath I couldn’t catch creeping up on me like a weight bearing down on my ribcage.

I backed up to the tub and sat on the edge. My hands were shaking. My always-steady sniper hands couldn’t be calmed. I dropped my head forward, and a barrage of images came racing forward. Blood and screams and anger. Anger that burned so hot and bright it transformed me. Then helplessness, sadness, and motherfucking guilt. So much guilt that I could taste its bitterness on my tongue.

Forcing myself to get my shit together, I stood and wiped the lipstick off my mouth with my forearm and wiped the blood off my knuckles into my jeans. I soaked a towel in water and went back to the bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I started wiping the black and red off Phebe’s face. As the makeup gave way to her pale skin and freckles, I couldn’t help but relax a little. Fuck knows why she would ever cover up those freckles. I cleaned her face until there was nothing left but her.

Phebe.

I dressed her in my sweat pants and clean black Hangmen shirt and covered her back up. For twenty minutes I stared down at her, sleeping. I thought of all the liquor she’d stolen this week and realized that since she’d last been here, screaming and smashing up my room as she came off the heroin, she hadn’t been sober.