“All of them,” Junior echoed and then in a move I did not see coming, he grabbed the tip of his tagger and dug into his forearm, red blood slid in streams down his arm as he made slash after slash, and then the knife clattered to the floor.
I gasped as he pulled his shirt off and wiped the blood away.
He’d marred his perfect skin.
He’d created a bloody scar of the Phoenix.
The De Lange crest.
Phoenix took a step closer and then another, until he stood in front of Junior, gripped his forearm, and jerked him forward.
I’d never been so terrified in my entire life as Phoenix touched his forehead to his son, and then kissed each of his cheeks and whispered, “You’re right.”
We exhaled as he eyed each of our faces and then shook his head. “I’m gone for two weeks…” He turned around. “All this under your roof, Nixon?”
“He was too busy getting his wife naked,” Dante said under his breath.
“I just have one question.” Phoenix dropped Junior’s arm. “Whose idea was this?
Oh, shit was about to very much hit the fan as Ash took a step forward and said in a commanding voice. “They all swore their fealty. Every last one…” He eyed his father and narrowed his gaze. “To me.”
Chase charged forward but was stopped by Nixon and Dante.
“How dare you!” Chase roared. “YOU KNOW what they did to us! YOU KNOW!”
“Chase—” Tex shoved him back. “Get ahold of yourself.”
But the damage was done, wasn’t it?
The trust between father and son… broken.
All because Ash’s heart wasn’t his own anymore—he was burying it into the cold hard ground. He had nothing left to lose.
So, he chose to get revenge the only way he knew how.
Embracing the enemy and rising to power in a way that would make it impossible for the bosses to challenge.
Because they wouldn’t kill their only heirs.
Not when they needed us so desperately.
Not when we were one and not divided.
“The sins of our fathers,” Ash spoke evenly. “Are no longer on our shoulders. We rebuke them. We won’t make your mistakes, so don’t ask us to, because it just forces us to say no to your faces. You want us to fight for blood.” He pointed at Junior. “Well, congratulations, we just fought for it.”
Slowly, Junior and Ash started walking forward; the bosses parted, most of them with smirks on their faces or looks of pride.
In fact, they all looked quite pleased with themselves, which was confusing, everyone except Chase.
No, he had murder in his eyes, and for a split second I wondered if there would be a blood bath since his only job for a while had been to hunt De Langes and kill them, since he’d been singlehandedly responsible for cleansing their family line after his deceased wife’s betrayal.
But Tex held him firm, whispering something under his breath that made Chase still.
And then he whispered something else. “Leader.”
Chase squeezed his eyes shut as a grimace crossed his face, and then with a firm nod in Ash’s direction, he let them pass.
Along with the entire mass of De Lange kids, who were trembling from the encounter.
We took them up to the theater room and closed the door. My hands were shaking as I quickly went over to Junior and wrapped my arms around him.
Asher cleared his throat, and I immediately jumped back. “What?”
“Not in public.” His eyes searched mine. “We’re already on thin ice. If they find out about you guys, it may just tip the scale.”
I wanted to tell him to go to hell, but I couldn’t. Not anymore. So I whispered, “I understand.” And tried to keep the tears at bay.
Tears of pride that Junior had stood up for his family, for his blood, no matter how evil.
And tears of stress that he could have so easily been taken from me, in a heartbeat, in a few seconds, gone.
“You should get something for that,” I said, pointing at his forearm, it hadn’t stopped bleeding and was scary accurate when it came to the family crest. “Come on.”
There was a bathroom that led to the hall but also had a door to the theater room, I grabbed his hand and pulled him into that bathroom, then made sure to close and lock both doors.
Before I could turn around, Junior had me in his arms, lifting me onto the sink, getting blood all over my black skirt and the top of my thighs.
He kissed me while he bled.
His mouth claimed me over and over again as his anger and desperation violently clashed.
With a grunt, he tugged my thighs open. “I need you.”
“You have me. You always have me. Whenever you need me,” I pulled back, lips swollen. “After all, I live to serve my king.” Slowly, very slowly, I opened my thighs wide as he walked between them, pulling me against his hard length. He was so hot and ready; I reached for his trousers only to have him shove me back against the mirror, looking like an angry god as his wild eyes locked on mine.