VEGASPETE🔞+KILL FOR YOU

Chepter 8

VEGAS POV

Walking through the front door at home, the smell of pizza lures me to the kitchen. I'm starving. Making my way in, I see Kinn, Porsch, and Simon opening four boxes of pizza.

Kinn nods in my direction. “Wasn’t sure if you wanted any, but got extra,” he says, pointing over to the food.

I hum in response as I uncuff my long sleeves and roll them up to my elbows, opening the first few buttons of my shirt with the need to relax and unwind. Porsch’s staring at my chest. I smirk.

“Hungry, Porsch?” I wink at him, and he rolls his eyes. Gotcha, brat.

“Shut the fuck up, Vegas, I’m warning you,” Kinn admonishes, pulling Porsch into his lap like some child. It's ridiculous looking at two large men sitting like that. Porsch pretends he hates it, but he loves it really.

“Well you should tell your boy to stop staring, it's rude.” I love pushing them both, it amuses me when my brother gets feral over him.

“Vegas,” Kinn growls. He really does sound like an animal when he gets possessive.

“Ignore him, baby, he’s just being an ass,” Porsch says, coddling my big brother. Kinn presses a hard kiss on Porsch before aiming his warning look at me, like it ever works. Simon comes to sit next to me, and I await whatever tirade of questions that's about to come from Kinn.

“So, any news on Jake and his boys?” Kinn asks. “Jules mentioned Pete had been to the club.”

“Only suspicions at this point. He is trying to find more. Although it appears Jake seems to have taken a liking to his brother.” I bite into my pizza, enjoying the cheesy greasiness of it.

All eyes freeze on me. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“What do you mean a liking…? Are you telling me Jake wants to screw his brother?” Kinn says with the same level of disgust in his tone as I feel in my throat thinking about it.

“Well, technically stepbrother, but yeah. He's gonna try and get more info, but Jake has restricted Pete. He has less access to the crew’s information." I drop the pizza down and sigh. “Let me bring him in. I’ll get the fucker to sing,” I say, clenching my fists on the table. The need to hurt and destroy this fucker is taking over my life. The craving for blood is becoming as important as my need for oxygen.

“Soon, Vegas. Let's give Pete another week first, we need names,” Kinn says.

My appetite now gone, I lean back and turn toward Simon.

“Keep a listen out, actually, I want you to do some subtle digging into the other crews. They like to gossip…just see if anyone stands out.” I glance back at Kinn. “We need to move this along somehow; we can't just rely on Pete.” Kinn reads between the lines. I'm on my last nerve and he knows it, so he nods.

“Okay, but be careful, Si. I don't want anyone being tipped off, thinking we are asking questions,” he says.

“No problem. I'll start tonight, we have to collect payments anyway. We can put the feelers out and let you know tomorrow," Simon says.

That gives me a little reassurance, enough not to completely run psycho across town.

Hearing heavy footsteps approaching, I turn to the door and in walks Jules.

“Any pizza left?” he asks, walking over to the open boxes on the counter.

“Help yourself,” Kinn mutters while nibbling at Porsch’s throat.

For fucks sake, do they ever stop? I’m surprised Porsch has the ability to walk with how much they fuck. And the sappy side of them, which they seem to only display here–lucky me–is nauseating.

“What’d I miss”? Jules asks with a mouthful of pizza, ‘cuz he is classy as fuck.

“Just updating them on Pete and his fuckhead brother.”

Jules chuckles. “Don't you mean doe?” He smiles at me. Bastard.

“Shut the hell up, Jules. I’m feeling pretty stabby today so don’t piss me off,” I warn.

He doesn’t respond but keeps that smug smile on his face. I can tell he is about to shit stir, and I can't decide whether to slit his throat or smash his head against the kitchen island.

“Doe? Who is doe?” Porsch asks. Nosy fucker.

Before I can respond, Jules the dickhead decides to answer. “Pete. It’s Vegas's pet name for him. You should see this guy. He is fucking crazy as shit, but he looks at Vegas like he is a god. It’s weird and hilarious at the same time.”

I actually think smashing his head against the wall appeals more.

“Well, well, got yourself a fan, Vegas?” Kinn says.

“Yes I have, and he isn’t sane. And before you ask, no I haven't fucked him, and no I don't plan to. He has a weird-ass smile, and I think he would bite my dick off and enjoy it.”

I snap back, hating this attention on me. Luckily nobody comments on the doe reference, and I am glad of it. Do I want to fuck Pete? Yes. But he displays all kinds of stage-five clinging and so many red flags it makes me look normal. Well, maybe that's a stretch.

“Hey, we ain’t judging, we all know your dick has been through the whole city.” Kinn laughs along with everyone else.

“You done?” I snarl at my brother.

He huffs a smile and nods.

Porsch gets off Kinn’s knee, gives him a quick peck on the cheek, and turns to leave. “Right, I'm going for a run, see ya later.”

I can't help but admire that ass of his as he walks away. I have never seen such a juicy one like Porsch’s.

“I will tear your fucking eyes out, Vegas. Knock it off!” my predictable brother barks at me and I grin at him.

“Love to see you try, Kinn.”

Kinn glares, itching to jump across the table and choke the life out of me. Riling up Kinn suddenly makes my appetite return, so I continue eating as the low chuckles from Simon and Jules alleviate the tension in the room.

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