Anguished (Crimson Elite 2)

“We can hear you two fighting. You know that, right?” Darby says as he walks in shutting the door behind him. “Especially when you don’t shut the fucking door. You know she’s pregnant? She doesn’t need to listen to you two fight over who Creed’s going to kill next.”

Fuck! I cringe at his words. He’s right. If we brought that baby on early due to stress, we would be the next ones dead without a shadow of a doubt.

“What the fuck.” The shiny fucking envelope falls from my hand that I’ve just opened, and the invitation tucked inside also spins slowly on the wind to the floor. And now I want to light every fucking thing on fire.

The door opens, and Elicea and Falcon stand there waiting to see what’s happened. My foot meets my desk as I kick it, then I turn and punch the wall. Hard. My knuckles start to bleed, but it does nothing for this feeling that’s taken root inside me.

Did I mean absolutely nothing? What the fuck is this shit. How could she even do this to me? Who does that to someone they once said they loved?

“Oh shit.”

I turn, taking in deep breaths and notice Darby reading the very bright invitation. He shakes his head as Falcon tears it from his hand.

“Do you want me to call, Creed?” Elicea asks. She’s the only calm one in the room, it’s because she doesn’t know much. Not really. Only bits and pieces. She doesn’t know how it feels to have your heart torn from your chest and then put back together piece by piece all by yourself.

“Probably should just leave, El,” Darby tells her. She nods her head as she backs out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

“We can drink on it! Burn it, then drink some more,” Falcon says making that sparkly piece of shit invitation disappear.

“Yes, we can drink,” Darby says. We both look at him. He shrugs. “I fucking need one, but you need it more.”

“How could she?” I ask, my fists clenching hard. I want to punch the fucking wall again but this time I want to destroy it.

“Let’s go, now,” Falcon says changing the subject.

“Then him…” I take a huge breath in and continue, “… he’s my fucking brother. How could he?”

They both don’t speak. Honesty, what can they say? None of the boys ever liked my brother. More than on one occasion Falcon has ended up in fists fights with him.

“Should we tell Creed?” Darby asks.

“No. He doesn’t leave her alone for long periods of time. You should know this. He will only come if she comes. And to be honest, we’re going out to drink and hopefully find Echo a fuck.”

Darby nods his head then walks out leaving the door open.

“Can I beat him up again, for old time’s sake?” Falcon jokes, although I know he’s serious.

“No.”It’s busy, women are standing around us in circles as we sit in the private booth. Falcon has a woman on either side of him, both women are clutching his waist and holding his ass. Darby sits opposite me with a drink in his hand listening to the owner of the club dribble a whole lot of shit about his business. Darby’s well known in the nightclub business, he’s helped some become what they are today with his great advice. Word spreads fast when someone offers to assist you to make your business better. He has his reasons for doing it, though. If business boomed in places near ours, it would attract a higher clientele coming to look for women. With their business booming ours tripled.

“None of these?” Falcon asks pushing a woman with blonde hair toward me. I don’t even bother smiling at her as I turn away, but she sits beside me placing her hand on my leg. I get up not wanting her touching me in places where Selena used to touch me when she wanted something.

“I’m going to the bar.”

Falcon laughs at me. We don’t need to go to the bar, the bar comes to us, but I want out of this nightmare. It wasn’t what I was expecting. The women are easy and caked with make-up with breasts so fake I could bounce a ball off of each one. Selena was like that, though. I once loved her fake breasts as much as I loved her. Fuck! I even gave her the money for them when she complained about not being able to afford it.

Ordering shots seems to be the best option right now. The quickest way to get fucked up is to drink as much as humanly possible in a short time. So, I order almost the fucking bottle and line the shots up. A woman beside me knocks one from my hand spilling it all over my white dress shirt. I drink the remaining amount quickly before I turn to face her. She’s looking at my tray, not me when I see her. Her mouth moves making my eyes follow each curve of her lips.