A Legacy of Sorrow (A Violent Agenda)

“Instead of teasing the fuck out of him. Why don’t you fuck him and put him out of his misery? Poor bastard should get something for all his hard work.”

“Why don’t you fuck him then, he spends half his time cleaning up after you more than me,” I say.

“If you want to share, babe, I’m all for it,” he sneers, leaning forward, hazel eyes sparkling a little too bright as our car pulls up outside the school. “Three-ways are a gift of mine.”

I snort a laugh, but the thought of both of them at once does turn me on. Damn these boys.

“And then you can fuck off and go back to whichever pit in Hell you came from,” he adds.

“Yep, I’m the Devil,” I say, eyes slitted in his direction.

“You do kill people for a living.”

“You think we’re so different? I’ve seen you fuck someone up and not blink twice. It’s survival, nothing more.”

He shrugs, a smirk on his face, taunting me. “Fighting isn’t survival. It’s pure entertainment.”

“Spoken by a typical rich prick,” I say, leaning back, looking outside. “I don’t think Royal Deacon agrees with you.”

Students in black and red litter the steps leading up to the gates. Some of them turn their heads at the arrival of one of the richest students being chauffeur driven in like he owns the place.

Allowing transfers to the local schools while Sacred Heart found itself a new headmaster was probably not the best idea. None of the students at the comprehensives have the luxury of being driven in and you can see it on their faces.

If Sacred Heart was a clique of rich kids bullying outcasts, Royal Deacon is a bunch of middle-class thugs with something to prove. Anyone different—super rich, dirt poor, or undeniably stupid—is a target, and being brutally ruthless is the only way to gain respect.

“Royal Deacon can suck my fat cock,” Jude says, just a little too loudly as he gets out. I follow after him, letting the door to the car swing shut.

Some guys with shaved heads are hanging by the side entrance to the school. I recognize one of the guys near the front. He’s the one who jumped and cut up Jude outside the church—Razor’s boys I learned later.

“Marques, you pussy. Hiding behind a girl again are we?” he shouts.

Without thinking, I must have stepped in front. “Is that Razor?” I say to Jude.

“No, but I’m going to enjoy smashing that prick’s face in all the same,” Jude snorts under his breath as he comes up behind me. “Don’t try to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I say.

He glances at me, and then grins as his arm wraps around my waist. I stiffen but all he does is lift me to the side, filling my senses in his expensive cologne. “Then fucking move out the way.” He flashes me his knuckle duster on his way past. The dark smile on his face is one I recognise on myself sometimes.

He’s gagging for a fight.

To be fair, so am I.

Tall and imposing, Jude strides up to where the guys are posturing and slams the guy sneering at him hard in the gut. He hits him again and he doubles over into a mess on the floor.

Jude is back by my side within seconds.

“Fucking prick,” he says under his breath.

And with that we walk into school.

The day passes quickly.Or as quickly as it can with zero interest in what’s being taught.

My mission is simple. Stalk the next name on the list. Find out what Dante wants.

Unfortunately, with Quinn inexplicably tied to Dante now, my source of intel is restricted. Lorcan has been providing what he can, given the empire his adoptive family own and the tendrils of power they have that he can tap into on whim.

But Lorcan isn’t fucking here.