Page 10 of Devour

“Just go,” I tell him. I’d rather know what the fuck Justin is doing than to send him off on his own. “Meet back here in ten minutes.”

I’m already in motion, ready to get this over with. Justin falls into step beside me as we move along the side of the building. “I saw you waiting for my sister at Graves again.”

My jaw tightens under the mask. “What I do is none of your fucking business.”

“She’s my sister.” He says it as if that should explain everything. It doesn’t mean shit to me.

“And in three weeks, she’ll be my Dove.” I stop walking and look at him. It’s better he starts to understand how this is going to go now. “She’s going to serve, and I’m going to claim her. You got a fucking problem with that?”

He makes a noise, almost like a low growl. I’m not going to deal with his bullshit now or even after I have her in my bed.

“You aren’t the only one that wants her.” He peeks into a dark window. “My sister will be popular during the hunt.”

I scoff. “I’m not concerned.”

“Of course you aren’t. Everyone is so afraid of the badass Axl.” His tone is laced with disdain. “We’ll see what happens. My sister gets around, as you’re well aware. Don’t think I don’t know the bullshit Dane covers up for you. You’re his little pet. But you can’t watch her all the time.”

I grind my teeth and keep walking, knowing the fucker is trying to get under my skin. “She’s only going to need me. And she already knows what happens when someone touches what’s mine.”

Justin chuckles, and it’s the kind of laugh that makes me want to put my fist through his face. If we weren’t trying to avoid being caught out here, I’d beat the shit out of him. “You’re a real piece of work, Axl.” He shakes his head. “My sister deserves better than some psycho fuck.”

“She deserves better than a piece-of-shit brother who talks about her like she’s a whore.” I crouch by another window with peeled paint and look through. I may plan to use her like a whore, but I know my girl is going to enjoy it. I like that she’s addicted to getting off, as long as she remembers who she belongs to. “There’s two men inside. One at the table and one by the back door. They have guns.”

Justin gets in my space so he can look. It takes everything in me not to slam his head through the glass. “That man by the door is named Hargrove. He’s from the Caruso family.”

I pull back and look at him. “How the fuck do you know him?”

“I’ve seen him around. He’s a regular at Velum.” He says it the way you’d say you recognize your favorite bartender. There isn’t a bit of concern that we’re here to investigate men who beat, rape, and sell women.

“Let’s head back,” I say, motioning in the other direction. “Priest should be done scouting his side by now.”

He looks like he’s going to argue, but I don’t wait. We make our way back to the meeting point. Priest is already there, shifting on his feet like he’s ready to take the place down.

“What did you find?” I ask.

“The back entrance is bolted from the inside. There’s no other way in on my side.” He focuses on me, pretending Justin isn’t even there. “But there’s a vent near the roofline. I could hear women crying while someone was hitting them. I think beating them with a whip or something.”

Priest pulls his gun from the back of his jeans. “We have to go in.”

“We can’t. Not now. Dane wants us to watch and not do anything yet. We haven’t even properly cased the place, and we don’t have Kase and Crew.” I text Dane so I can confirm the next move before Priest goes charging in there.

Me: There are two men confirmed inside, not sure about any others. They have women inside.

Dots light up on the screen, and then my phone vibrates.

Dane: I’m going to handle it. Keep watch and do not engage unless the situation changes.

I read it to Priest, not giving a fuck whatever Justin is doing beside us.

“What about the women in there?” Priest asks.

“Those are the orders.”

Priest slides his gun back in place and runs his fingers through his hair. “I fucking hate the orders.”

We settle in by the window. Priest is next to me, his body tight, hands flexing. We live in a fucked-up world and do fucked-up things, but there’s a limit. Our society blurs the lines with every ritual. But there’s still a line. And what’s going on here is over that fucking line.

Justin is leaning against the wall a few feet away scrolling on his phone, stopping to type every so often.