I saw Dyson smirk. Quite honestly, I felt like wiping the evil grin off her face myself, but I just wanted to drink a fifth of whiskey and not picture Lois dead on the sandy ground, blood pooling beneath her, or Mae curled up crying in my bed, covered in rape scars. Pit, like he was reading my f**kin’ mind, slid a fifth of whiskey my way from behind the bar.

Down went half and I could feel myself going numb. In my drunk-ass state, I noticed Beauty move to the end of the bar, keeping a close watch on Dyson.

Ten minutes later, I wasn’t noticing much else.

***

I could’ve sworn the five rivers of the underworld painted on the bar wall were on the move. They seemed to be swirling, but then again, the whole room had started to swim. Making an attempt to get up and off the barstool, I stumbled only for someone to prop me up by my arm: Dyson. Her eyelids hooded, lips frozen in a smirk and her hand reached for my cock.

My drunk-ass body lurched to life and Dyson gripped onto my shirt and began dragging me to the hallway. The look my favorite blonde shot me from her position at the bar would have incinerated a lesser man on the spot.

Dyson led me into the hallway, finding the darkest spot. Her smile was wide and she licked that f**kin’ talented tongue over her teeth. I needed this, needed to f**k all the rage outta my system—hard, rough f**kin’. Had to get Mae and her f**ked-up scars outta my head before I lost it and went hunting for people to rip apart for fun. Needed to get Lois’s hurt face outta my eyes before the guilt tore me apart.

Dyson reached up and ripped the top of her tank down to her waist. Her massive plastic tits popped out—no bra. Dyson’s eyes shone with arousal as she plucked and squeezed at her f**kin’ huge red ni**les, groaning loudly, getting herself off.

Dirty f**kin’ whore.

Dropping one of her hands, Dyson lifted her skirt and slipped her finger against her clit. This was why the brothers craved her—the f**kin’ pre-fuck floorshow.

The infamous Dyson special.

I watched her grinding on her hand, squeezing her tits, almost coming at my fixed attention, but I felt… nothing. Not one f**kin’ spark. Yeah, I was still hard as f**k, but that was all Mae, all Wolf-Eyes in my mind, and the feel of her perfect little body beneath me, her perfect face, and… Fuck, I couldn’t do this. For the first time in my bastard life desire for another bitch stopped me from f**kin’ a slut.

“Styx!”

Dyson let out a long, satisfied squeal as she came like a pro, her smug face showing she thought I was getting off on her  p**n . She dropped to the floor, lunging forward, tearing aggressively at the zipper of my jeans. I reached down, gripping her wrists to push her away. Then I heard it; a whimper, a pain-filled f**kin’ whimper from my right.

Even through my whiskey-brain I sensed who it was without even looking up.

Turning slowly, I found Mae staring at me in shock, devastation written all over her face. She was dressed in a tight Hangmen tank, tight black jeans, with my cut swamping her tiny body. Fuck. She looked so damn hot.

Dyson threw her head back and laughed, pulling me from gawking at Mae, my mind catching up to what Mae was seeing.

“What, darlin’? You wanna a f**kin’ picture? Wanna watch us f**k?” The pink-haired bitch taunted Mae from her place on her knees, facing my—thankfully still covered—hard cock.

I hauled Dyson back with my foot, her junkie ass slamming to the floor. I took a few hesitant, guilt-ridden steps toward Mae. Big fat tears fell from her wolf eyes and her hand slapped over her mouth, trying to stop the broken cry she couldn’t help but let loose. I tried to speak, but before I even had a chance to explain, Beauty and Letti burst through the doors, searching for the source of the wail.

They immediately froze at the sight of me—in a dark corridor with Dyson on her knees, tits out… and to the side, Mae decked out in club gear and in my cut, sobbing into her hands.

Could things have got any f**kin’ worse?

“Mae! No. Don’t cry. Come with me, honey,” Beauty soothed, gently placing her arm ’round Mae’s shuddering shoulders. Beauty ushered Mae round the corner and outta my sight, my cut thudding onto the floor in their wake. Shit. Mae’d shed my f**kin’ cut.

The chase was on. I set off stumbling, the room tilting on its side, only to be met by Letti’s renowned death stare. She stepped forward, cracking her knuckles at the slut on the floor. Dyson scurried back on her hands as the larger-than-life Samoan closed in.

“Listen up, slut. You have ten seconds to get the f**k outta this club. I see you here again, I’ll shank you myself… and I’ll take my own sweet time. Comprendo?”

Dyson looked at me, pleading for support. Fuck that! Jerking my chin, I nodded in the direction of the exit. Righting her clothes as she passed, the Hangmen’s biggest slut hightailed it outta the club.

Letti glowered at me, shaking her head in disbelief.

Don’t f**kin’ look at me like that. I ended it before y’all came crashing through, making this shit worse. Yeah, it looked bad, but I didn’t f**kin’ touch her. She didn’t even get to my cock, I signed.

Letti looked like she didn’t want any excuses. Flipping me the bird, she turned on her heel and followed Beauty down the corridor.

What a f**kin’ clusterfuck!

Ky chose that moment to come ’round the corner, glancing at Letti as she made her prissy exit. “Styx, man! I’ve been looking all over for you. The psycho trio are back with their prize catch.”

His eyebrows danced in excitement as he rubbed his hands, smiling. His triumphant smile quickly turned to a frown when he saw me leaning back against the wall, running my hand down my face, fixing my jeans.

“What you done now?” he asked with a shit-eating smirk.

Don’t f**kin’ ask. Now, where’s the f**ker? He talking? I signed.

“Nope. Not a damn peep.”

Smiling a hungry smile, I signed, Perfect. Just what I need right now. Let’s go.

Chapter Thirteen

Mae

One hour earlier…

I was a child when it happened. A tiny, innocent child…

“Salome, come with me.”

“Where are we going, Sister?” I had asked, as Sister Eve took my hand and dragged me down the corridor from the safety of my room. Her hand had squeezed my hand so tightly that I recall feeling intense pain. For reasons I could not fathom at the time, Sister Eve would not look me straight in the eye.