“I’m putting my hair up. We’re going to turn on some gangster rap, and we’re going to cut a bitch.” She pulls a knife out of her Louis Vuitton bag.
Alexa gasps. “You can’t have that in here.”
Jasmine ignores her and stares at me, her green eyes wide with excitement. “I’ve found if you lick the blood off the blade, it’s quite effective. Shows them you don’t give a fuck. Most people frown on cannibalism.”
“Give me that.” Alexa reaches across the bar and confiscates it from her hand.
Jasmine shrugs. “I tried. I’m not tequila. I can’t make everyone happy.”
“Tequila makes me want to fight,” I say.
“Then tequila it is.” Jasmine claps her hands.
“No!” Alexa shakes her head. “Water and peanuts only.”
Jasmine pouts. “You’re no fun.” Then she gets serious and places her hand on my shoulder. “You know this isn’t your fault, right?”
“It is.” It’s all my fault. My brother getting into trouble. Falling for Grave. I could have prevented it all. “I knew better.”
TWENTY-NINE
GRAVE
ISIT IN the dark hotel room with the black shades pulled closed. I’ve become my brother. Is this why he’s always such a dick? Because he loved someone and lost them?
“Numb” by 8 Graves blares through the speakers on my phone.
Cross stands next to the couch, getting his shit ready. He’s the only one I’m talking to at the moment. I threatened him with his life not to tell the others where I’m at. I’ve had my cell off for a few days and cut all outside communication off until today when I messaged him to come see me.
He removes his gloves from his bag and pauses, looking down at me. “Sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” I’ve always been impulsive. April makes me think, and I fucking hate it. I was fucking drowning, and she was my last attempt at living. She saw my struggle and pulled me out of the water. She gave me life, and I gave her nothing. “Do it.”
“I can’t work in the dark…” He trails off, walking over to the wall and turning on the bright lights.
I lie down on the couch with a growl and rip the blanket off the back, throwing it over my face. Maybe I’ll get lucky and suffocate.
April straddles my hips,her purple hair falling over her shoulders. She reaches up, running her hands through it and pushing it off her face, flipping it to the side.
We’ve been in her bed all weekend. I’ve ignored every call and text from my brother and the other Kings. I want to spend every second I have with this woman. I haven’t even thought about a hit or a drink.
I run my palm down her chest bone, still feeling her heart pound, her skin slick with sweat. I travel lower until I’m gripping her hip bone. She bites her bottom lip while her eyes run over the ink on my chest. They follow the lines of my skull with the tilted crown on my left pec, then the crossbones underneath. All the Kings have them. “How old were you when you got your first tattoo?”
“Eighteen.”
“I’ve always wanted to get a tattoo.”
“Really? What do you want?” My eyes run over her perfect tits and the curves of her hips, imagining them covered in ink.
“I almost went through with it once.” She laughs. “My best friend, Alexa, and I went out and got drunk. She was dating this musician at the time, and we had gone to their show. Anyway, afterward, all the members of his band got matching tattoos. I wanted to get a petal on my arm.”
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew I wouldn’t stop.”
I reach up and run my hands through her tangled hair. “And why is that?”
“Because they’re addicting.”
