Royal Savage - Page 26/73

She has a way of getting to me unlike anyone else, and the more I’m around her the more I see it. Then she had to go and test me last night. I wanted nothing more than to fuck her into oblivion and bury myself so deep inside her pussy that she’d never be satisfied with another man touching her.

There’s two reasons why that’s the last thing that I should fucking do. One: my asshole brother has already been there. Two: I can’t give her more than one night and the thought of only having her once is not enough.

I stick my cigarette between my lips, releasing it with my hand and take a long needed drag. I’m on edge today, and if I don’t relax soon I’m going to lose my shit on the next fucker that even breathes in my direction.

Blaine rounds the corner and pulls a smoke out of his pocket, taking a spot next to me against the building. “I just heard some shit, man. You’re not going to like this.”

I grab my cigarette and pull it away from my lips, exhaling. “Then don’t fucking tell me,” I say stiffly. “I can’t handle shit right now, man.”

“It’s about that dipshit Brian.”

My ears instantly perk up at the sound of that fucker’s name. “I’m listening.”

Huffing, he shakes his head and stomps out his smoke. “I was tatting the back of Gage’s big ass dome when Pete started running his fucking mouth, saying that fucktard was coming back to town next week. His ass stopped talking as soon as he saw me listening. Fuck! I walked away so I wouldn’t scare his ass off before you got to him.”

My heart starts racing as adrenaline pumps through my body, my blood boiling. I’m fucking heated. There’s nothing I want more right now than to rip that fucker’s heart out and feed it to him.

Tossing my cigarette down, I crack my neck and breathe in deeply, preparing for the explosion that I know is coming. “Yeah. Well this motherfucker better be ready to talk, ‘cause his ass ain’t going nowhere until he does.”

Brushing past Blaine I rush inside the bar, stopping at the door to look around for Pete’s dirty ass.

“Fuck,” he mutters and stands up from the bar when our eyes meet. He points at me. “Blaine is a little bitch. He has no idea what he heard. He’s been smoking reefer all fucking morning.”

“Is that fucking right?” Anger overtakes any rational thought that I have left and before I know it, I’m rushing at Pete, flipping over the table in front of me, sending beer and shot glasses flying everywhere.

One of the guys from his MC tries stepping in front of me, but I pull out my knife, flipping it around and holding the blade to his throbbing neck.

His fists clench at his sides, but he steps away, keeping his eyes on me the whole time.

“Put that shit away, because I’m not telling you shit about my cousin.” Pete stands up straight, tensing his jaw as I slide my knife away. I don’t plan on using the shit unless I have to. I won’t hesitate to kill a motherfucker for the lives I’ve lost.

Stopping in front of him, I swing my elbow out hard, connecting it with his jaw. Then I grab the back of his head, slamming it into the side of the bar.

I rotate my shoulders in anger as I look down at him, waiting for him to get up. “You’re not going to tell me shit, huh, Pete?”

Standing up, he looks down at the blood on his leather vest, before wiping his thumb under his nose. “Fuck you. You really want to do this?”

He swings out, his fist connecting with my nose. With all the adrenaline pumping through me, I don’t feel shit.

I wipe my nose off and tilt my head, tensing my jaw at him. I no longer give a shit about anything. That’s not a good thing for him. I don’t give a shit who he rides with.

Grabbing him by the jacket, I throw him across the top of the pool table, before wrapping my arm around his neck and squeezing as hard as I can without killing the fucker.

He grabs at my arm, fighting me off, before reaching for a ball and attempting to swing it at the side of my head. I dodge it and swing my right elbow into his nose twice, before releasing him.

“I called the cops,” a woman yells out from the door, holding her phone up for us to see.

I nod my head at Blaine. “Get her the fuck out of here.”

Blaine shakes his head at the woman and backs her out of the door, shutting it behind her. Then he leans against it. “Proceed, brother.”

Running my hand through my bloody hair, I reach for the nearest beer and slam it back, before tossing it across the room.

“We’re not done, Pete.”

“Fuck off, crazy motherfucker.”

I let out a slightly crazy laugh, while reaching for my knife and rubbing it across my palm, before running my thumb across the blade as he walks away. Maybe the fucker is right. I’m a crazy son of a bitch and I stopped caring a long time ago.

I nod at Blaine to move and wait until Pete is right in front of the door, before throwing the knife as hard as I can and watching as it sticks through the door, grazing his fucking ear.

He grabs his ear and quickly dodges out of the way, cussing as he looks up at the knife. “Fuck! You’ve lost your shit.”

I start walking at him fast, eyeing down his guys on the way to him. Kane, the biggest one, stands up straight and flashes his gun at me. “I’d be careful, Royal. Don’t make me fucking use this. You know I got that asshole’s back no matter what kind of shit he gets in.”

Blaine pushes away from the wall and opens his jacket, flashing two guns, before grabbing his dick. “I’m packing everywhere, motherfucker. Don’t test me.”

Our attention gets drawn away as police sirens blast right outside the door as a warning.

“Fuck!” Blaine yells out. “Everyone be cool.”

Knowing that I’m fucked on getting any info from Pete at the moment, I walk behind the bar and pour a shot of Jack, before slamming it back right as Officer Knight walks through the door.

He turns around and looks at my knife sticking out of the door, before turning to me. “Did you lose something?”

Flexing my jaw, I watch him with distant eyes as I pour another shot and bring it to my lips, just wanting a way to escape.

Mark pulls his eyes away from me and looks around, stopping on Pete when he sees the blood covering his face. “Get the fuck out of here before I have to arrest someone. Shit.”

Pete points at me, while wiping his hand over his face. “Another time.” Then him and his guys gather up their shit and exit the bar, leaving me with a bad taste in my mouth and not just from the blood. I have a feeling they’re going to get in my fucking way when it counts.