Sinful Pleasure | 18+

Chapter 7 - Axel

Curving the corner, I grabbed the keys from my pocket and handed them to Creed, shifting over to the passenger side of his car. 1969 Camaro. "Shouldn't we bring Little One?" Creed asked, slamming the door shut and looking over at Roman on the passenger side.

I leaned myself against the backseat and glanced between each of them. Roman looked back at me and rolled his eyes, pressing his lips together. "Kezanel has been here for only two days, it'd be stupid to bring her along. Plus a girl like her would just get in the way," he groaned, clipping in his seatbelt.

Scoffing, I roamed Creed's attire-his classic black jeans, leather jacket, and no shirt. How basic could you get? He cleared his throat, and I looked up, seeing a scowl across his face.

"Your judgment isn't valid, brother. A hoodie and jeans won't intimidate anybody." He raised his eyebrows, turning on the ignition. Okay, he got me there.

"Touché, though I wasn't informed we were to impress our rivals half naked. Did you need a dicking down too," I said monotone, pulling out the coin in the pocket of my hoodie and staring at him.

"Go fuck-"

Roman cut Creed off by cursing out loud, and slapping his face, causing his head to jerk forward. "You two are insufferable, shut up and drive." He spat, irritation set in his tone.

I turned to Creed, winking at him, and he rolled his eyes, shifting gears before driving off.

...

Tonight we were after The Kings-a fallen gang. They've been out for us for years, yet every time we came across each other we were always smarter, better prepared, and one step ahead-every damn time.

They wanted everything we had and wanted to become everything we were, but it would never happen. A small-town gang just off the coast of Strixfield had nothing to offer nor nothing to take, and if anything they were snakes.

Nobody liked a snake. I knew they ripped off half their buyers and all allies they fucked over-nobody trusted them anymore. It was funny when they kept coming to fight back, sending men after men even when being extremely unsuccessful in getting rid of us.

Most of the people coming for us were some lowlife gangsters off the streets The Kings paid to do their dirty work for them. No wonder they lost, being useless and braindead got you nowhere.

Creed leaned down and grabbed his knife, handing it over to me from the front seat. I stuffed it into the pocket of my hoodie and proceeded to climb out of the car-the boys following after me.

"Make a move once you hear my signal, and be subtle on your way in, we don't want too many eyes on us," Roman ordered, throwing on the shades Creed had on and walking ahead of us. Creed whistled, causing him to turn and he quickly threw him a pack of cigarettes, the lighter following after.

Roman ran his tongue over his bottom lip and pulled one out, then flipped the lid of the lighter and lit the end. He turned on his heels, motioning his head for us to go forth but stay behind him.

My brother always liked to be in front with both Creed and I at his side-just slightly behind. Always the center of attention, though attention was merely directed toward us at first. But, of course, when a hoodie came off, a head shot up and sunglasses pulled away, everyone knew who we were and they knew we were here for blood.

I hummed and moved my way through the double swing doors, keeping my hood up and following Roman's footsteps. Up until we moved in further enough, I threw off the hood and shoved the knife into the sleeve of the hoodie.

Creed lifted his head and Roman took off the glasses shortly after. The smell of alcohol hit my nose and I groaned, shifting uncomfortably. I hated alcohol and had my reasons.