Malcolm thinks it over then grins. ‘That’s what you’re doing behind those stadium walls?’
I don’t answer, the thought sickening me and Kate turns her back on me, disappearing into a carriage.
A hand claps my back and a whiff of sweat clings to my nostrils. ‘I didn’t take you Skulls for that type, but you never can tell what goes on behind closed doors, eh.’
I suppress a grimace reminding myself that I need them and everyone out here to think we are monsters. If they were to find out the truth the rest of our group, our family would be in danger and I can’t let that happen.
Not bothering to give the sweaty bastard a response, I step away from his grip, looking around to see where his sister had stalked off to.
She’s different, out of place somehow and I can’t quite put my finger on it.
‘How many bitches you got? Maybe I’ll rethink my price and get a night in there as well.’
I crack my knuckles, focusing on the sensation to distract me. The idea of any outside men near my girl — or any of the others, for that matter — makes me want to crush their heads in. And as if just in time to piss me off even further, the slimy lapdog decides to pipe up and join in with the vile conversation.
They all refer to us as the monsters. Yet whenever our behaviour is spoken of, others always want in on the action. They are always too willing to be part of the monstrosity of our reputation instead of standing up for what is right.
It's one of the strategies we have used to weasel out the sick bastards in the past. It seems that most of the evil ones, after hearing about our reputation, want to join us rather than destroyour group. No one worth saving would ever seek us out and ask for a seat at our table without knowing the truth behind our lies.
Malcolm and his dog start up again, his vile opinions about women sending my rage boiling over the edge.
‘It’s all they’re good for, lying on their backs—’
I crush my fist straight into the side of the yappy cunts face, silencing him. His body hits the floor in a crumpled heap as he lies out cold.
The stench of sweat is on me as his idiot keeper grapples at my back. The slapping of palms against my shoulders is laughable as he tries to reach my neck.
I don’t know what he plans to do if he were to actually reach me. His pathetically small hands wouldn’t be able to wrap around enough to cause me to cough, never mind choke me.
No wonder the pathetic fucker doesn’t leave the sanctuary of the subway tunnels. He’d be eaten alive out there on topside.
Slowly, I turn, stopping as I'm face-to-face with a very pissed off Malcom.
Add being an incredibly ugly fucker to the list of reasons why he doesn’t go top side. I don’t doubt he’d cause anyone who laid eyes upon such a face to go blind with how traumatic it would be to see such an unfortunate combination of features.
‘Now, are you going to play nice. Or do I need to put you in a time out like your pup here?’
‘You’re going to regret—’
I knock him out with a quick bop to his big red nose. I mean, what other reason would there be for a guy to have such a big bullseye on his face other than to show me exactly where to aim?
On the rubble subway floor, I tower over the crumpled body of the exact person Ru told me not to go pissing off further. Ah fuck, he knows I have a short fuse for sick fucks like these — there’s no way he expected me not to cause a bit of a ruckus.
Now, where did the scientist go? Stepping over their crumpled forms, I decide to leave the honours of what to do with them to Kate. Judging by her fear reaction it may be good for her to have the decision of what to do with these disgusting fuckers.
‘So I think we got off on the wrong foot just there,’ projecting my voice I climb into the carriage I watched her get into earlier. ‘I need the birth equipment but—’
I trail off as I feel a sharp sting in the back of my neck.
What the?
I stumble forwards, knocking over a bunch of tin dishes as I fall to the ground.
The back of my head hits the metal flooring and I blink up at the beaming white lights.
Words won't form on my tongue as I lose all function of my mouth.
A figure stands above me, blocking the blinding light that stings my eyes. I blink trying to focus as my eyelids begin to droop, feeling unbelievably heavy.
