Sweaters and Angels

Chapter 13 | Sunglasses at Night?

A/N: Sven above. For those of you who don't recall, the Dark Angels are Luca's dad's gang. They're pretty rad.

Luca's POV-

As if ignoring Indigo wasn't enough punishment, my dad was making me miss the first football game of the season to handle Dark Angels business. Sven and his ugly ass posey can wait, football, on the other hand, cannot.

On the bright side, the drop off would be made in the parking lot of the stadium, so the boys and I would be able to hear the game from afar. It was better than nothing.

A cool breeze ruffled my dark hair, messing up the perfect hairstyle I had going. Dammit, I spent thirty minutes on that. I took more time than usual getting ready, trying to look intimidating takes time. I wore dark jeans and shoes, a clean white shirt free of any wrinkles, and my usual leather leather jacket. Not to mention the shades I sported made me look completely bad ass.

Fox, who was beside me, burst out into uncontrollable laughter. He doubled over, choking, "Luca, you look like a total idiot." He stood back up after his little session and wiped away a fake tear.

I crossed my arms and glared down at him. "I do not." I responded.

Crossing his arms back at me mockingly, Fox said in an overly deep voice, "Yes you do." He perked right back into his smiling self, adding, "I get the whole dangerous greaser aesthetic you have going on, but sunglasses at night? What kind of idiotic shit is that?"

Adrian and Asher followed along noiselessly, and nodded in agreement with Fox. Betrayal.

My jaw ticked and I mumbled, "My kind of idiotic shit."

Not wanting to hear his dumbass opinions anymore, I turned away, surveying the parking lot. A few spaces across from where we stood was a yellow Jeep I'd recognized anywhere. Oh shit, Indigo was here.

Before I could comment on the vehicle, a throat cleared from somewhere in the darkness. I whipped my head back around and then moved to face the man that stepped out of the night.

Sven Jorstad. The leader of the Silver Skulls and the worst son of a bitch to ever live. His blonde hair was perfectly arranged and a scruff of a beard graced his face, even though he couldn't have been older than twenty five.

Sven's father died a few years ago, leading him to become the Skull's leader and ever since then he's been a thorn in the Angel's side. His father respected us and never once fucked up on a shipment. But Sven, he's been trying to grow his empire bigger and that also means being a complete bitch to us.

Ugh, it's taking all of my energy to not punch that sadistic smirk off his face.

A cold wind blew through the deserted parking lot, whistling in the cool night air. The danger of this situation warded of any potential pedestrians. Or they were all too busy watching the game.

Sven twitched his slim fingers and from the shadows came two of his men struggling to carry a wooden box. They dropped it down a few paces from us and moved behind their boss straight away.

Shouts and boos were heard from the stadium and the loud drone of the loudspeaker sounded out. But, knowing the importance of this evening, the boys and I ignored it. We needed to stay focused.

I nodded towards Adrian and Asher who uncrossed their massive arms and moved on either side of the wooden crate in a defensive position. Fox unslung a bag from his shoulder, taking a silver computer from inside of it. He turned it on solemnly and typed in a few things on the keyboard. After a second, he glanced toward Sven, and gave a slight shake of his head signaling the transfer of money into his account was complete.