Pretty Little Savage (Sick Boys #1) - Lucy Smoke Page 0,28
they—he—can be.
And more importantly, will messing with them give me the kind of high that I want?
Unfortunately, after several beats of silence, he takes a step back. Disappointment rolls through me. I should've known better. Sick Boys? Ha. They're probably just pansies playing at being gangsters. They’ve probably never held a gun in their life, never seen the aftermath of an overdose, or had to be interviewed by cops simply because they lived in the same trash neighborhood as a gang leader. He slides me a smile as he heads for the front and just before he leaves entirely, he stops by the front desk and slaps his palm against the bell to ring for service. The sound echoes loud and high pitched up to the cheap, tiled ceiling.
"See you soon, Avalon,” he calls back.
I open my mouth to tell him that he won't be seeing me at all if I can help it, but he's already walking out. The attendant must have been watching because it isn't until he's out of the store that the dude comes creeping back out. His eyes settle on me a little apprehensively.
"Are you ready to check out?" he asks.
A sound of disgust leaves my lips, and I ignore him as I stride towards the doors and shove them open. Abel, Brax, and the guy with eyes like the devil are already at the Mustang. He grips the driver's side door and leverages up and over until his legs slide to the floor before turning his head and meeting my eyes as the engine roars to life. Then his head lifts and he's looking at something past me.
I don't have even a split second to realize what's happening before a black bag is thrown over my head, obscuring my vision. I react violently, punching out. My fist connects with someone’s side, and all I can feel is muscle. Then my arms are dragged behind me and quickly zip tied. Throwing my body against my attackers, I kick out, but there are too many arms, too many bodies grappling with me. I'm yanked off my feet and the sound of a car door opening reaches my ears just before I’m thrown into what I can only imagine is a wide backseat that smells faintly of sweat and leather. Unknown bodies climb in on either side of me, their arms pinning me in place to keep me from trying to escape.
My breath comes in ragged spurts as I continue to buck and fight. And even though I know I’m going to get these fuckers back for this, all I can think in this moment is well fucking played, Sick Boys.
Well motherfucking played.
11
Avalon
I don’t have a conscience. I think only certain people get that luxury, and yes, I think having a moral compass is a luxury. When you’re starving and exhausted and afraid to shut your eyes for fear of what—or who—you’ll find crawling into bed with you when you wake, you start to lose sense of what's right and wrong. It becomes warped, twisted, and different from traditional views. It’s clear that the Sick Boys have a twisted sense of what’s right and wrong and I’d be a liar if I didn’t say that doesn’t interest me and make me curious.
My heart thumps rapidly in my chest, the smell of sweat and booze and tension shifting it into overdrive. To someone else, this smell might resemble fear, but to me, it’s home. It's heady. It's addicting. It gets my adrenaline flowing. It makes that something dark inside me unfurl in my core. The only thing missing is a little bit of blood.
"What's Dean want with a new chick anyway?" someone towards the front of the vehicle asks.
So his name is Dean. I file that information away. Dean is the one that’s going to pay for this. Sure, I’m having fun and yes, I’m more than a little curious about his methods, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I now have to plan an appropriate payback for this little stunt.
"Don' know," someone else replies. "She's on lockdown though—Abel put her there. Heard she pissed him off."
"Did you see the way he came limping out of the station?" a third voice right next to me asks. "I think she kneed him in the balls."
The black bag over my head makes it so that I can't see a damn thing, but that doesn't mean I can't talk. "I did," I say.