Prologue

Cruz

"I've never seen your face before, Cholo. My dealing goes through Payne only. You wear his prez patch, so I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you killed him?" Carlos gestures to my new patch, not taking his stare off me as he leans back on his beat-up couch and turns his attention to the whore in his lap, ignoring me now.

My gaze roams around the living room of the leader of the Los Muerte gang, taking in the dirty carpet with cigarette burns, the walls with holes the size of a fist, and the stolen products scattered across the floor. I expected nothing less, knowing he runs a small gang. He's trying to take the other gangs off the streets, but in order to do that, he needs to make friends in higher places. Everything this guy represents makes me grind my teeth. If you want others to respect you, then fucking make it to the top by yourself. Killing, maiming, beating the shit out of someone, that's how you instill fear and make sure no one stabs you in the back.

Worthless piece of trash.

Loud bass music from the speaker makes the floor vibrate, the overly obnoxious rap annoying me and loud laughter from his gang members littering around the house. I want respect, and Carlos is obviously throwing disrespect in my face, acting like I'm not the president of my charter, which starts to piss me off. He thinks I'm just some other club member, a fill-in for Payne until someone else comes along. I can see he thinks he's the bigger threat by the way his posture is relaxed into the couch cushions as he smokes a joint, his brown eyes flicking over my dirty biker boots, all the way up to my faded jeans, the vest with my new position on the patch, and my long, blond hair slicked back.

Fuck him.

I'll rip out his right eyeball and the teardrop tattoo he has under the left corner of his other eye. That will teach him thinking he can dismiss me as not a threat. I want his fear. He's nothing, just another rat that follows the rest of the colony, and that's why he'll die in this fucking trash hole of a house.

"No. That honor has to go to whoever sent his head in a box to my club. They didn't have a return shipping label, so I can't show my gratitude. It came to my attention that Payne was looking for something he lost, and you just happened to find it?" I appear nonchalant, making my body relax, even though I'd like nothing better than to murder every fucking gang member in here and carve my name into their skin.

Carlos takes his eyes off the whore sitting in his lap, his stare immediately settling on mine again to notice the quiet, intense way I'm watching his every little move. He's finally noticing there's a predator in his house. My eyes want to roll into the back of my head in pleasure as he stares at me warily, a hint of fear flashing in his eyes as he eyes his gun on the coffee table before he tries to mask his expression from me. No one can fool me, I've been wearing a mask half my life.

"Lost? What could he have lost? Why does it interest you so much? Perhaps a shiny diamond Payne misplaced?" Carlos tries a different angle to gain some power back, to taunt me, wanting to dangle Tillie in my face, just because he can.

"Oh. That shiny diamond was never too far from me, and I plan on getting it back one way or another. You catch my drift, amigo?" I calmly state, watching as his eyes roam over me, noticing I don't have a tattoo or anything resembling the club except for my vest.

"Hmm. I hear you." He nods his head and pushes the woman off his lap, her ass falling to the floor at his feet. "Leave us." She quickly gets to her feet, tugging her skimpy dress over her ass as she flees the room. The pounding bass of the music stops, his gang members leaving out the front door until it's just me and Carlos. "I'm going to be honest with you, Cruz. You aren't from my hood, and I don't fucking know you. Why should I help you?" He takes a hit off his joint before tilting his head, eyeing me through the haze of smoke from the weed puffing out of his mouth, blowing the stench in my direction.

"Ah. It's like that, is it? Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?" My fingers twitch at my sides, wanting to wrap around his thick neck that's covered in tattoos and squeeze the life out of him.

I cross my arms and lean on the wall closest to me with a relaxed posture even as a hundred different ways of killing him runs through my head. Maybe I should just get it over with and carve him up, but he has me intrigued about what he wants so badly.

All in due time, after I get what I want. It's all a game and I plan on being the winner on top.

"What every man wants… power. These are my streets. I grew up in this very house. I take care of my neighborhood, and seeing a man just fucking waltz in, taking what's mine… I don't think so. Fucking cops." He smashes the blunt on the coffee table and rubs his hand over his shaved head in frustration.

So the cops are involved. Very interesting.

"I know the feeling. Payne never deserved to be president of my club. It seems we have that in common. You want the cops off your back?" I raise a blond eyebrow at him, having no problem slashing some throats in my spare time.

The more bodies I have to practice on, the more it helps get my initials perfect.

"It's more than the pigs. It's who's running the damn city when it's mine. The drugs coming in and going out onto the streets should be mine, while I count my money behind my desk." Carlos curses in Spanish, upturning the coffee table in front of him like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

I don't even flinch or move away from the wall as I watch him lose his mind instead of thinking clearly. This is why he's a bottom-feeder and will die that way, where no one cares as he rots away.

"You get me what I want and I'll get rid of those standing in your way." I smile, feeling the fake stretch of my lips as the lie slips through.

I'll have Tillie at my feet, hiding her away from the rest of the world until she only has eyes for me. Her king. Taking over these other gangs will only add to the power at my fingertips.

Carlos takes a deep breath, swiping his tongue over his gold tooth as he considers me before taking another joint from his jean pocket, straightening it out, and lighting up.

"I know exactly where she is, but it's not going to be easy to get to her. She's surrounded by all the guys she's fucking. The whore," Carlos says, his meaning clear as he passes the joint to me.

My eyes burn, tears collecting at the corners as I inhale the weed between my lips. She's the only one who can cause me these emotions. I feel nothing while killing anyone but one thought of her being mine forever has me almost crying. My whole body shakes, wanting her to be right in front of me, to cut into her skin until everyone can see who she belongs to. Pent-up rage crawls up my throat, hanging by a thread, but I have to control the anger until the moment is right. She better start praying to her God now because if she's really letting other men touch her… I might just have to kill her and keep her corpse by my side forever. She'll never escape me then.

"Do we have a deal?" Carlos' dark eyes gleam like he just hit the jackpot. The fucker probably thinks he can stab me in the back once he gets what he wants.

I'll beat him to it.

I pass the joint back to him, blowing the smoke in his face. "You have the Demon Jokers at your disposal."

He takes the weed back with a slow, shit-eating grin. A silent agreement that we work together, for now… until one of us is dead.

It won't be me with blood spilling from my neck like a river.

I'm coming for you, Tillie.

Finally.