Sweaters and Angels

Chapter 16 | I'm a Ferrari

A/N: The docks above where all the shady shit goes down.

Indigo's POV-

"Would you be so kind as to stop gripping my elbow so tight sir. I fear if you hold on any longer I might bruise." I smartly told the blonde asshat next to me, who did indeed have his smarmy hulk hands on me.

What did he think I was gonna do? Jump off the docks and do some kind of fucking mermaid escape?

Being a mermaid would be cool though.

Oh totally. If given the opportunity, I would forsake the people of this wicked land and forever roam the seas like the badass bitch I am.

Badass bitch my ass. You're literally being polite towards your kidnappers.

I WAS RAISED WITH MANNERS!

How long have you been with the roaches? Do I need to take control of your body and turn this sucker towards the nearest asylum?

Your my brain, so you should know the answer to that.

"Shut up," Sven hissed, his breath dangerously low, "Just stay quiet and let the real men talk."

Did this bitch just? He did. Who does he think he is, pushing me around like I'm a fucking stroller. Hate to break it to you sweetie, but I'm a fucking Ferrari. Vroom, vroom bitch. After Lavender and my sorry excuse of a father treated me with no respect for the majority of my short life, no one is going tell me what to do.

But, I simply smiled at him. A feral and vicious thing, filled to the brim with unsaid malice and hate.

Sven rolled his eyes and loosened his grip on my arm to turn around and talk to one of the several men around us. All of his men were cloaked in a thick midnight black material, almost as dark as the night air on the docks. Their shirt had a tiny silver skull embroidered on its left pocket, directly over the men's hearts. Extra much?

I sat down on the frigid wood of the docks, feeling more than listening to the moaning of the air colliding with the old structure.

Looking to my left there was nothing but water, looking like spilled ink against the dreary backdrop of the sky. Funny, the clouds covering the normally bright moon matched my mood for the evening.

You try spending an entire day down in a dirty ass cell with no one to keep you company but roaches and blonde headed scum.

Ummm, your blonde, so you can't be talking.

Shut up.

If you haven't guessed it, I'm in a pissy mood. Sven and the thirty men with us were not making it any better. Especially when I heard them whispering behind my back, "She looks just like her," and, "No, it can't be."

Fucking dumb idiots.

Thankfully, before I could go off on them, several black sports cars and vans flew past us. That's not sketchy at all. Note the sarcasm there.

The vehicles parked directly in front of where Sven and his men stood at the docks, caging us in like animals. One sports car in particular held four familiar boys and one older man who looked about ready to jump out of the car and swim with the fishes.

The group stalked out of the car quickly and quietly, their eyes scanning the new environment with practiced predatory grace. Luca huffed and crossed his muscled arms when he noticed and noticeably ignored the thirty men circled around me. Fox sent me a cheeky grin, pushing up the thick glasses that had slipped down his nose accidentally. Adrian and Asher simply crossed their arms at the sight before them, but after noticing my safety, a small twinkle appeared in Adrian's eyes. Asher was still being a basic hardheaded bitch, but who am I to judge?

The last man was slightly smaller than the Fallen Angels, but still omitted a demanding presence, like he was the alpha male of the pack and we were all lowly omegas. Even from the distance between us, the bright green of his eyes stood out, the exact same shade as Luca's. Tilting my head to the side, I studied the older man and realized he had the same ruggedly handsome facial structure as Luca, along with similar dark hair, although it was peppered with streaks of grey. If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was Luca's father. Which meant I wasn't in the vicinity of one, but two gang leaders at the moment. I'm really living the dream aren't I?

I tried waving to them, but two idiots built like monster trucks blocked my path. Great. I huffed and crossed my arms, but quickly left my features neutral when I caught Sven gauging my reaction to the newcomers.

Luca's possible father stepped forward and away from the safety of his pack. He prowled over to Sven, who also stepped away from his men. They stopped only a few feet from each other at a standstill. I don't think there's enough dock for the both of them there cowboys. Yee haw and all that shit.

Sven raised a pale eyebrow in the direction of the countless black cars Luca's father hailed from. "I don't recall so many of your men being invited to this exchange." He sniffed.

Luca's father merely shrugged. "You never said I should come alone."

"Yes, but when doing business with other gangs, you tend to be cautious. We wouldn't want to many people getting hurt now would we?" Sven explained, his eyebrows still somewhere up in his hairline and a shit eating grin on his face.

"On the contrary Sven," the other man said, the Fallen Angels moving right behind him imitatively, "Most gangs tend to bring backup in cases such as this."

"Oh really," was all the blonde bitch offered, "No matter, what's done is done. Now, we can only move forward."

"Indeed." Luca's father replied.

The silence that fell after was either heavy from the weight of all the tension steaming from the two gang's members or the awkwardness of my untimely sneeze.

Fox cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Bless you!"

"Thanks bro!" I yelled with equal volume.

That's when all hell broke loose. Like Satan had opened the gates of the gorilla exhibit and all the gorilla's wanted revenge for Harambe kind of broke loose.