Outcasts (Badlands 3)

“My kid will be surrounded by a family of deviants. The devil’s their father, death will be their cousin, and their uncle’s a Savage.”

“Grimm would be their uncle too.”

“But your baby will be their cousin. You should get started soon so my son has someone to play with.”

“It’s a boy?!” I exclaimed, a lil too loudly as we entered the kitchen, secretly overjoyed at how acceptin she was of me bein with her brother. This was Cali though, one of the most open minded people I’d ever met, so it wasn’t all that surprising.

“We don’t know that for sure.” Romero jumped in from where he stood, cutting up an apple, while Cora and Grimm leaned against the counter. “I don’t give a fuck what they are, they’re mine.”

“See, how sweet he can be? He’s going to be a good daddy,” Cali quipped as Cobra pulled out a barstool for her, and then me.

My attention was pulled to the hot plate of food Grimm slid in front of me and the glass beside it. Rome sat down a saucer of apples, granola, and sausage patties in front of Cali who wasted no time digging in.

“You met the other two officially yet?” I asked her, spotting them out on the patio, lookin content.

“Blue is shy and real sweet. Katya is cool; I almost killed her for lookin at Romero like he didn’t have any clothes on, but Cobra mediated. Plus, who can blame her? He’s incredible.”

Romero looked directly at her. “I told you I wouldn’t fuck you till after lunch. Keep stroking my ego and soon your tongue will be stroking my—.”

“Here, look at this,” Grimm interrupted, sliding a small laminated book between our dishes.

I twisted my lips, taking a sip of what I found was the most amazing fuckin homemade lemonade on the planet, with fresh lemon, so I wouldn’t laugh at the look on Grimm’s face.

I focused on the lil book he’d just sat beside me.

“Leviathan cross of crucifixion, vise, garrote, hand-saw, tongue-puller, blow-torch, seven pairs of red tipped pliers, a fuckin Cradle of Judah?” I ticked off randomly. The book was at least ten pages long.

“Fucking great, isn’t it?” Cobra asked, peering over our shoulders.

“They don’t call it the devil’s playground for no reason,” Grimm added, liftin a strand of my hair to twirl around his finger.

“Where did you get a Cradle of Judah and a…he-ter-ricks fork?” Cali asked Romero.

“Babe, you know I can get whatever I want.”

“Why are you showin us this?” I asked.

“Because you two will be putting on the show, so if you see something that’s missing….” He let us fill in the blanks.

“What show?”

“My people want to watch, they get to watch. Plus it sends a message not to fuck with me again. Speaking of,” he turned his dark ass gaze on me, “what do you want to do about Centriole?”

I sat there suddenly tongue tied, partially shaken that he was focusin on me directly. I didn’t care how tough you thought you were; these three men were terrifying. I wasn’t afraid of Grimm, cause I knew he’d never hurt me outside of our debauched fuckin.

Romero didn’t have to say a single word. He had an aura about him. He was the owner of a medieval level torture room, enough said.

And Cobra , for all his jokes and sense of humor, it was clear he was fucked up too.

“What can I do? It’s behind a stone wall,” I finally responded.

“But if it wasn’t?”

“I’d probably give everyone inside it a large dosage of reality.” I shrugged.

“That’s very…ominous.”

“The elaborated version was draggin every civil leader into the middle of the street and slittin their throats cause, I know damn well they’re aware of how they got their positions.