His Badass Mute

Chapter 43: Stay Sharp

I didn't drink often, but when I did, there was this point in drinking where all of my emotions turned off. If the world blazed in fire, I would admire the beautiful flames as they danced with destruction.

I became apathetic with being apathetic. Was that a good thing? Did it allow me to be a better leader, to see things objectively rather than with emotions? Following my heart only become useful with one person.

"Capo," a voice called.

I looked to my left. A member of my crew approached me. His name lost in my mind. Honestly, I could give a rat's ass as to what his parents named him. Remembering his name does what for me, exactly? Absolute shit.

"What?" Treating my members apatheticlly prevented them from walking over me. Prevented them from thinking, well, fuck Damien; I'll do what the fuck I want.

Because, no the fuck they won't. They'll listen to me, obey me, and if they can't handle that shit, they can get the fuck out of my face. The fuck I need them in my life if they won't respect me.

I didn't treat them like complete shit. I gave them many opportunities they would've never had. I liked to think of it as a don't-bite-the-hand-that-feeds-you. I treated them well.

"We found three," he told me.

"Where?" I asked, grabbing the bottle and popping off the spout. The guy pointed where two girls and a guy sat. The audacity those Reapers had sitting in my bar. What the fuck were they even doing in Italy? I chugged some of the bottle as I walked forward. The burn of alcohol intensified every time I exhaled. I felt fine despite the amount of alcohol I consumed. But that was the thing about alcohol; you're fine one moment, the shots catch up, and you're drunker than you anticipated. "Name?"

"Who the fuck are you?" The guy snapped. My cynical smile stared at him.

"Who the fuck am I?" I looked at Bennett and laughed.

Bennett laughed. "Who the fuck are you?" We laughed together. A fucking comedian right before me. I should feel fucking honored. I halted my laughter and stared at the guy.

"The fucking owner of this bar!"

"As in Damien King?" One of the girls whispered. I looked at her, and she looked down. What a timid little coward.

"Eye contact," I said, and her green eyes met my demand. Funny: I used to have a thing for green eyes, and now, hazel eyes were my favorite. I guess people really can change preferences. Her eyes darted down as she bowed her head: one, she was scared; or two, she was hiding something. "And you." I looked at the third girl.

The darkest pair of brown eyes stared into mine, a challenge lingering within them. She was confident, assured, but underneath it all, there it lied: self-doubt. The self-doubt that would ultimately lead to her demise. And to think it would be at the mercy of my hands.

She reminded me a lot of my Serpent Talia; she was a chameleon, constantly changing her colors, and like a snake, shedding her skin. Talia's assignments always assigned her as the confident seductress. And more of the time, Talia always fell deeper and deeper into her role, but when she took a step back, she had doubts and fears. So, now, reading the girl in front of me, she gave way to exactly the type of person she was.

I smiled, and her lips mirrored mine, eyes dropping to my feet, traveling up until her confident eyes met mine. "So it is true what they say," the girl said.

"Yeah?" I kept my tone and stance light, letting my eyes linger on hers a bit longer, a small smile taking over my lips. "And what's that?"

"That you're hot." She promoted her chin on her fist.