Embers (Burn #1)

Chapter One; Glass

Son of a bitch.

Oh that he was. Son of a prostitute. The thought made me smile and I lean back too. Son of a crazy, drugged up, piece of ass. Fucked more than a bitch in heat, even.

The thought was horribly wrong. Which made it so deliciously... right. My insanity had been festering like an infected wound for a while. It made me volatile. And the friction it creates with Damian makes it hard to ignore. Slowly, he sits up and tenses. So he did realize his mistake.

"I want him dead, Damian. He took Xavier to help acquire some... inventory." My voice is steady. For now. The flash in Damian's eyes let's me know he knows what 'inventory' is. Breathing. Living. Kidnapped. Inventory.

I almost expect him to be that manipulative man again. To lean forward and lay a hand on mine before whispering, "Ebony," with that same heat. But all he does is clasp his hands on the surface of the table. Tightly, I notice. White knuckles tight. And then he narrows his eyes. Infinitesimally.

"He's seventeen, I need him to be safe. I don't want this life for him. To screw over the little he has. I want that bastard at my doorstep, drugged and tied so I can make his eyes bleed before he dies." Our waitress steps forward but shuffles away after hearing my words.

Good girl.

But even my words sound tight and hollow to my own ears. The picture vibrates through my periphery. That much guilt and blood and corruption... I didn't want to know if Xavier would be the same again.

He won't.

Damian watches me steadily before cracking his neck and shrugging. "It'll be done, but-"

"I know what you want, Damian. Anything. Done. With interest. I just want them both found." He narrows his eyes again before smirking. I know what the big bad wolf wants. His little lamb served on a platter where it willingly waits. He'll have me. Just not now.

"And Xavier?" The words aren't concern. Just morbid curiosity about what I was going to do with my criminal baby brother. I blink at him and get up.

"Tomorrow. I want them found by tomorrow. And if not-" The glass I pull out of my skin and throw on the table talks for me.

I am numb.

I am insane.

I will do whatever it takes.

Even if it means serving myself with nothing but bare skin.

---

I've been pacing for hours. Restless. Occasionally little growls erupt from my throat. My nails dig into my already shredded skin but it doesn't help. I barely have restraints from going into the cabinet and pulling out a knife. The scars itch. Old habits do die hard, after all.

But it won't help Xavier. That little bitch of a voice is always right. So I wait. I've almost dug tracks into the floor when a knock comes from the door. That's when the drawer bangs open in my hand and I clutch a knife in a death grip.

I pull open the door, and find Damian standing there. Suit and tie with hands in his pockets. There is a dark look in his eyes when he finds me standing there with a knife in my hand. "If you want the damn information, drop the knife and get in my car," his voice is caked with sleep, as though he had just gotten dressed and come here.

No gratitude pumps through my veins as I watch him. Carefully. Deciding it was worth the information, I grab my keys and get to my bike.

"I follow. I wouldn't get in the damn car even if I had to walk." He nods. I'm not dumb or overly cautious. In this city you fought for the scraps of survival. No matter how rotten they were.