Heathens (Depraved Sinners 2)
The smell wafts around the room, consuming me with its all too powerful stench and I can’t hold back the gag. “Alright, motherfuckers. Get off me.”
I shove my hands into their sides and push until they finally get the hint to give me space. They take their sweet-ass time climbing down, making a point to show how unhappy they are about the situation. When I finally get to my feet and rush out of the room to take a deep breath of clean air, they come bounding after me. “For fuck’s sake, what is wrong with your guts?” I demand as I make my way into the massive dining hall, the two wolves hot on my heels.
I bust through the big double doors and just like always, at this time of the day, there’s a massive spread of food across the long oak table. My stomach growls at the wafting smell. It’s well past midday and I spent all morning sitting in the living room, waiting for Roman and Levi to get home from their night of fun-filled murder. I was too pissed off with them to worry about eating breakfast, but now I can hardly wait.
The past few days, I’ve been eating soft foods as that’s all my raw throat and stomach have been able to handle, but I’m done with that shit. If I’m going to get back to the old Shayne and learn how to thrive, then I need to start eating right.
After filling up my plate and dropping my ass down into Roman’s favorite spot, I dig in, smooshing food down my sore throat and sedating the dragon that lives within. I get halfway through when movement to my right catches my eye and I find the two wolves, sitting patiently, salivating over my lunch.
My brow arches and I glance back at the table. “Are you guys hungry or something?”
The bigger of the two stands, his eyes going wide as excitement seems to pulse through him. “Well, shit, you should have said something.” I get up and scan over the selections, wondering what makes up a good meal for a wolf. I mean, I should probably bypass the salads and go for the good juicy steaks. I bet they’ll appreciate that shit.
I fill up some plates and place them on the ground, positive that they probably have their own food bowls in here somewhere. One wolf stands, barely giving me the chance to get out of his way before he barges in with those sharp teeth, while the other waits patiently, taking his time.
Glancing around the room, I check for water bowls and grin to myself when I find two plain white doggy bowls under one of the many impressive fireplaces. Grabbing a sharpie from the long hallway table behind me, I stride over to their empty water bowls and pick them up.
Grinning to myself, I write ‘DILL’ and 'DOE' across the fronts of their bowls, filling them all the way up with water and placing them back down. “There we go,” I say, proud of my work, and even more proud that the big wolves finally have names. After all, these wolves are more than just weapons, they’re our pets and all pets should be loved and cared for.
The bigger, more energetic one with the jet-black fur and stanky guts will be Dill, and his brother—or maybe sister—the more placid and patient one with a softer face, will now be known as Doe. Together they will be the famous DeAngelis Dill Doe wolves, feared by all who dare step in their way.
I laugh to myself as I go to make my way back to my half-eaten lunch when the familiar sounds of Levi’s drums sound through the castle and my eyes go wide. “THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS!”
Dill and Doe barely pay me any notice as I barge out of the dining hall and storm up the stairs, relieved when my stomach doesn’t scream at me. It’s been a week since that night, and while there’s still plenty of pain, my day-to-day routine has been getting a shitload easier.
Following the sound of drums, I barge my way into Levi’s bedroom without knocking. I’ve never actually been in here and I’m sure the room is full of all sorts of secrets that I’ll be more than happy to explore another time. As for now, this bastard needs an ass whooping.
Clocking me the second the door flies open, he stops playing and looks my way, and for a moment, I’m taken back by the rare sight of undress. His body is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. So broad and toned. He’s a work of art with those stunning tattoos, and my mouth waters at the sight.
“Where the hell have you been?” I demand. “And more importantly, where the hell is your jackass brother? I’ve been sitting with those big-ass wolves for hours in the living room waiting for you assholes.”