American Street Kings: The Complete Series Read online

  Brushing past Ink, I took my seat at my usual spot—a table in the corner where I could look out over the entire bar.

  The Hanged Man was owned by the club for fuck knew how long. Everyone who walked through those doors was either a member, an ally, or a friend. Basically, if you didn’t have any ties to the American Street Kings, there was no way you’d be able to get your ass past the first fucking table.

  The place smelled like cigars and liquor, sweat and testosterone, with only three waitresses working the floor. They were the only women I trusted so close to our business. Neon, Trick, and Tanit.

  Neon had joined us way before I took my father’s place as president. We found her out on the streets, shooting up cocaine while enduring her sad-ass life.

  Trick and her sister, Tanit, joined us when Trick became Nix’s old lady, a few years back. But unfortunately, Nix—the club’s secretary back then—was one of our men who fell alongside my father, ending up with Python blades in their guts, slaughtered like animals. That was the day I decided I’d bring an end to the anarchy the Pythons caused on these streets, even if it was the last thing I fucking did. Since then, Trick was part of the family, and that was one thing we knew how to do…take care of family. Tanit was a different story. A wild child, the kind who needed her reins pulled in a little every now and then.

  Neon placed another beer on the table, and I thanked her with a simple nod. She knew me well enough not to hover, not to ask questions. Another reason I didn’t have a problem keeping her around. Plus, the guys loved her. Of course, everyone tried to get into her pants, but she refused to become the club slut. Not even Ink, the club manwhore, managed to get between her legs. How did he put it? Her pussy had been welded shut.

  Fucking douche. Gotta love him.

  I leaned back, my mind drifting to the girl upstairs with a bruise on her face the size of Texas. Soon the fun would start, and our plan would become my plan. But first, the war needed to begin.

  Chapter Six

  Alyx

  From the second I heard the click of the lock, there was this giant hole in my gut, and I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to cry or vomit. Maybe both.

  I had never been this scared in my entire life. Suddenly, all those fights I had with my father, hating that he always had security around me, seemed selfish and stupid.

  What I wouldn’t give for that kind of protection right now.

  I glanced down at the rope on the floor, then at the red marks it left around my wrists.

  His face. His eyes. After so long, I had finally looked into his eyes, seen his face, been so close to him I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. But this wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be the bad guy who wanted to hurt me. He was supposed to be the bad guy who would want to change because of me.

  Oh, my God. Thinking about it that way made me realize what a fucking cliché it was. For years, I bullshitted myself into believing a goddamn fairy tale could come my way. Dark prince falls in love with the beautiful princess.

  What a naïve and stupid princess.

  I took a deep breath. His earthy scent still lingered around me, and the fact that I liked it made the disappointment even worse.

  I stood and scanned the room. It sure didn’t look like a hostage chamber. It was easy to see the wooden-framed bed was new, the sheets crisp and clean. The sun peeked inside, lighting a little more of the room with every passing minute.

  Cautiously, I started to move around. A white chest of drawers stood by the wall, a dressing table next to it. As I moved closer, seeing what was placed on top of it, my heart slowly crept up my throat, choking me. My hairbrush, my pale pink make-up bag, three hairbands, and a bottle of the exact brand of perfume I used—Armani Code. It was there. It was all there.

  Jesus. What the fuck was this?

  I reached out, wanting to touch it, inspect it, wondering if it really was mine, or just exact replicas. But my hand couldn’t stop shaking, so I pulled back. This was too surreal. Fucking insane.

  The door unlocked, and my gaze cut across the room. I recognized him the minute he appeared. It was the man who held the gun. The man who shot the guy who’d had his weapon against my head. The man who could have killed me if he had missed the shot. It made my stomach turn to think how easily he had taken a life—even if it was to save mine.

  “How you feeling?”

  In the light, I immediately saw the similarities between him and my stranger in the dark. Only he looked slightly different, with light, shoulder-length hair and a well-groomed beard. But he was in no way less threatening.

  “Who are you?” The words just slipped out.

  He stepped inside and shut the door behind him with his foot. “I’m Onyx.”

  I glanced down at his cut. Vice president. The tag beneath, Blood Brothers.

  “My brother said to bring you something to eat.” He tossed a paper bag on the bed. “So…eat.”

  Frozen on the spot, I looked from the paper bag to him. “Is your brother the man who was here earlier?”

  “Well, that depends.” He sat on the chair in the corner, leaning back, legs spread. “Was this man about as tall as me, broad shoulders, messy hair, shitty attitude?”

  I remained silent, giving a slight nod.

  He raised an eyebrow. “Then, yes, that would be my brother.”

  Staring at him warily, I kept seeing this image in my head of him with the gun in his hand, determined to shoot while I was in the crossfire. I remembered thinking his bullet would surely end up in my chest. Fear didn’t spread like an icy chill down my spine. It didn’t cause my heartrate to spike or make it difficult to breathe. It was numbing, deadening, making me feel…nothing.

  Onyx kept staring at me, moving his legs up and down as he leisurely leaned in the chair. “You okay?”

  “Is that a trick question?”

  “No. But you seem a little pale.” The grin on his face was all sarcasm.

  “You killed a man.”

  He snorted. “You’ll need to be more specific. I’ve killed a lot of people, sweetheart.”

  “The guy who held me as a shield. You shot him.”

  He nodded with a smirk on his face. “Hence the reason you’re here today, alive and breathing. A thank you would suffice.”

  I lightly shook my head at his arrogance. “Thank you for saving me, and then kidnapping me again.”

  “Well,” he slapped his hands on his knees and got up from his seat, “it’s my pleasure. Now eat your food and behave.” He winked at me, making it clear there was nothing wrong with his confidence.

  And judging by how chuffed he seemed with himself, killing people was something to be proud of around here. It made me even more aware of how much danger I was really in.

  “Why am I here?”

  Onyx stopped then turned to face me again. “That, you’ll have to ask Granite.”

  “Granite?”

  “My brother. He’s the only one who can answer your questions. I’m not on his current favorites list, so the last thing I need is to piss him off by saying shit I shouldn’t.”

  I looked down to the ground. “Granite,” I murmured softly. After years of watching him from my bedroom window, I finally had a name. It was probably something I could have found out on my own if I wanted to. But I never tried to figure out who and what the American Street Kings were, who its leader was. I liked the mystery that surrounded him. In fact, I was drawn to him even more because of it. Yet, with each passing second since they took me, I cursed this infatuation I had with him.

  “Anyway. You should eat. Clearly, you need some meat on those bones. I hope you like turkey sandwiches.”

  I snorted. “I doubt I’d be able to eat anything right now.”

  Onyx studied me, the light coming through the window bringing out the intense blue of his eyes. Even though it was beautiful, his eyes didn’t beg me to stare back at them the way his brother’s did.

  “That’s o
ne shiner you have there.” He motioned toward my face where it ached.

  Gently, I placed my fingertips against the skin. “Yeah.”

  Onyx stared at me for two seconds before moving to the cabinet on the other side of the bed. Only when he opened it, pulling out a bottle of water, did I realize it was a bar fridge.

  “Here.” He walked over to me and held the bottle up to my face, but I jerked back, and he stilled. “I’m not going to hurt you. Relax.”

  Terrified, I froze, not knowing what to expect. My stomach wanted to leap out of my throat when he leaned forward, but then he gently placed the ice-cold bottle of water against my eye. “Keep it cold, for the swelling.”

  I placed my hand over his, taking the bottle while keeping it against my face. Onyx took a step back, his eyes never leaving mine. This act of kindness was unexpected, yet I didn’t let my guard down.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, inching back more.

  “Yeah. Sure.” He turned and walked straight out the door, but then turned and glanced over his shoulder at me for a few seconds…then left.

  Tears slipped down my cheeks, the adrenaline in my veins finally giving way so reality could seep through. It was terrifying, and something I never thought would happen to me. Shit like this always happened to other people. This was the kind of story you’d see on the news or hear over the radio. Girls who got kidnapped, raped, and murdered—not necessarily in that order. Just thinking about me ending up naked, broken, and alone in a ditch somewhere was enough to push the bile up my throat.

  For a moment, I allowed myself to ask a shitload of what-ifs.

  What if I had stayed just ten minutes longer with Red, telling her the story behind the tattoo she inked on my thigh?

  What if I ignored my mom’s phone call, and rather decided to drive off?

  What if I just never went to Red’s in the first place, getting the damn tattoo?

  Over and over, I allowed myself to relive that scene, to try to figure out what happened. Who those men were. And where my dad’s men who followed me disappeared to. They were there in their SUV one minute, then gone the next. How was that possible?

  My legs began to quiver, too weak to keep me upright anymore. With my back against the wall, I slipped down to the ground, still holding the water bottle against my eye.

  I wiped at my tears, my tummy hurting with the pain and fear that possessed by entire body. It was crushing, like I was trapped between two walls closing in, squeezing the life out of me. What I wouldn’t give for this all to be nothing more than a goddamn nightmare.

  The bag Onyx tossed on the bed caught my eye. Did they really think I’d feel like eating? God, this all felt too insane to be true.

  I cracked open the bottle of water and took a few sips before closing it and placing it against my eye again. It was kind of Onyx to give me something for my bruised eye, but Red always said if the devil gave you a kind gesture in hell, be prepared to pay for it in blood.

  God, I wished Red was here. She would have known what to do, what to say to keep me strong. She always did, which was why I loved her like the sister I never had. I remembered the day I graduated high school, when all I wanted was a congratulations and a hug from my mother. Instead, she took me straight home where a new ballet instructor waited for me. My mom reminded me how hard I was going to have to work in order to make it into Juilliard, and she made sure I realized what was at stake if I didn’t. Her reputation.

  I looked down at my bare feet, the Band-Aids around my toes still intact. Back then, with the new instructor, my toes ached and bled after the first lesson. It was brutal, and the worst part, my mother sat there the entire time. Even with tears in my eyes and blood on the floor, my mom didn’t stop it. She just sat there with a scowl on her face, scolding me every time I fell. That night, I cried so hard it felt like my ribs would crack in half. When Red came over, she sat flat on her ass next to my bed and gently pulled her fingers through my hair.

  “The only person who can allow her to break you…is you.”

  That night, the penny dropped, and Red’s words helped me build a wall around my mind in order to keep my mother out. After that, I never gave my mom the satisfaction of seeing me cry again. The brutal training didn’t stop. It continued with my mother spectating. But I never cried a single tear when my mom was there to witness it.

  “The only person who can allow them to break you…is you.” I heard her voice like she was sitting right there next to me.

  If I had the backbone to survive an entire childhood with my mom, I could survive a few bikers, right? I just needed to keep my head and not let the horror of the unknown break me. With every war you needed to fight in your life, your mind would be the battlefield. If you could control the battlefield, you could win the war.

  I crossed my legs under me and took a few more sips of water, thinking about what happened. Onyx shot the guy who threatened to kill me. For a few short moments, I thought they had saved me from the kidnappers, but now they were the kidnappers. It was a complete mind-fuck, and I had no idea how to wrap my head around it. If it wasn’t for them saving me in the first place, I would have said this was all because of me being the police commissioner’s daughter, and that it had something to do with their midnight dealings with my dad. Maybe my dad pissed them off. Maybe my dad owed them money. Who the fuck knew? But I was confused as to why—if my dad pissed off the Kings—there were other kidnappers trying to take me.

  Dear God. Was I the target of two criminal syndicates? Jesus. It was a miracle I was still breathing.

  And what did Granite mean by saying I knew why I was here? Why did he look at me the way he did, like he knew me? As if he knew my deepest, darkest secrets? Like he knew my most sordid desires?

  Did he bring me here because of something my father did? Or did he bring me here because of something that had nothing to do with my dad, but everything to do…with me?

  Chapter Seven

  Granite

  I couldn’t sleep. Not while she was underneath my goddamn roof. It was like I had this giant vortex inside my head, twisting my thoughts in her direction, making me think of all the warped fantasies I’d had about my pretty ballerina. All those nights I watched her dance in her parents’ back yard played over and over inside my mind making my dick hard.

  It was already dawn when I eventually got to my room, so I decided to go to the gym, punching the shit out of a boxing bag. Looked like Onyx couldn’t sleep either since he was right next to me kicking the crap out of another boxing bag.

  “Did she eat?” I glanced at him.

  “Dunno. I didn’t stick around.”

  “Did she say anything?”

  Onyx swung around and gave a hard back-kick. “Just that you were one ugly mofo.”

  I grinned then flung a fist at the bag. “What did you give her to eat?”

  “Turkey sandwich.”

  I stilled and caught the swinging bag. “Are you kidding me?”

  Onyx shrugged. “What?”

  “She doesn’t eat bread, you dumb fuck.”

  “How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”

  “She does ballet, Onyx. Do the math.”

  He lifted a brow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this is a goddamn B&B.”

  I pulled the gloves off my fists and tossed them to the ground. “Get Neon to take her a fucking salad or something.”

  “Dude, the girl is as thin as a fucking stick. She can do with some carbs, if you ask me.”

  “No one asked you.”

  “Good God, why are you being such an asshole right now?”

  “I’m not.” I turned and walked in the other direction, but my stubborn-ass brother followed.

  “Ah, yes, you are. You’re on edge more than usual.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Onyx remained on my heels. “You’ve been more on edge than usual since last night. And now you’re all up in my grill over a goddamn sandwich because she doesn’t e
at bread. I call that on fucking edge.”

  I stilled, placed my hands at my sides, and took a deep breath. Onyx was right. I was on edge. He was also right about her being as thin as a stick. Girl had a serious weight issue, and it was clear to everyone around her, except one—the demon behind her misery. The mom who claimed to know what was best for her little girl. Well, I called bullshit. Bitch only knew what was best for her, and no one else. I knew everything there was to know about Alyx’s life. For years, I watched her, studied her, followed. Her being a ballerina was just a way to pull a blindfold over the eyes of the rest of the world. No one questioned it because ballerinas were supposed to be…tiny. But Alyx wasn’t just a little underweight. Her goddamn spine protruded from her back, her body lacking the healthy curves of a twenty-year-old. But she was still beautiful. And still mine.

  “You’re right.” I turned to face my brother. “I’m just on edge about this whole thing.”

  “Why?”

  I pulled my hand through my sweaty hair. “Because last night didn’t go exactly as planned, and you know how I get when things don’t go according to plan.”

  My brother relaxed a little. “Dude, relax. We got this. So, we underestimated the Python prospects. Turns out the fuckers had slightly bigger balls than we thought. But we pulled it off. No big deal.”

  I sighed. “I know. Just don’t do any more stupid shit that can fuck all this up, okay?”

  Onyx grinned and crossed his heart like a goddamn Girl Scout. “You got my word.”

  “I don’t want your word. I want you to do as you’re fucking told.”

  I walked over to the fridge, grabbed two beers, and tossed one to Onyx before opening mine. The fact that it wasn’t even noon yet didn’t do shit to stop me from chugging down the whole fucking bottle. “Dad would piss in his grave if he knew what we were doing.”

  Onyx took a seat on one of the benches. “I’m pretty sure the second that Python stuck his blade into Dad’s stomach, Dad knew this war was inevitable. If he was here, he would have agreed we had no choice. If we don’t deal with these Python fuckers now, they will grow the balls to challenge us even more.”