Unmask (Adrenaline Series (Stand Alone) Book 4) (2 page)

“I would've never guessed you had a bush like that,” Daniel jokes until Knox balls her fist and comes towards him.

She pops him twice in the shoulder and claims, “Two for flinching motherfucker.”

“Fuck!” Daniel complains.

I try to stifle my chuckle, which is when she says to me. “Go. Change.”

With a nod, I prepare to go, but stop to ask, “We got any more EA? I think I've got like one left.”

EA, which is the street name for a drug called Enilanerda, is a miracle liquid. Basically it ramps up your immune system to kill any STDs that may try to weasel their way in. One little shot and you don't have to worry about a goddamn thing with one night stands. Hell, for women it also prevents unwanted pregnancies. What the fuck is better than a shot you can take that erases all the problems that comes from fucking around? Yeah, yeah, I know. You're waiting for the catch. Probably why it's not legal. Aside from the money it would cost pharmaceutical companies, no drug is without its drawbacks. EA has an effect on your sex drive. Every time you take it, you run the risk of becoming dependent on it in order to get a hard on or even lose the capability of ever getting one again. Chicks run the same risk as well as being infertile. Sex is a roll of the dice anyway you do it, might as well take the path that suits your lifestyle best.

“Yeah. Vinnie dropped off a delivery this morning. Might I suggest you slow down on putting your dick in anything that's willing to accept it. We don't get free shipments like we used to and while our discount from Vinnie is steep, it's not steep enough.”

Playfully I question, “Did you really just ask a McCoy to fuck less?”

She lets out a disgusted groan.             

I give her a wink and she slugs me hard in the shoulder as I walk by. Instead of showing her how much that shit stings, I simply laugh and head around the building, using the side door that leaks into the stairwell.

One of the best things about the garage, aside from the expensive beauties that roll in and out for our services, is the fact our apartment is right above it. I love living with my brothers. They're my best friends. Destin, Daniel, and I spend more time with each other than we do anyone else. We've been that way since we were kids, never figured out a good reason to stop living life that way
.

Inside I stroll passed the kitchen and to the right down the hallway. At the split, I turn the direction of my room. I pass Daniel's, the bathroom we share, and head right for my room that is in the same condition I left it.

Is it wrong part of me hopes Knoxie will go all mother hen just once and clean it for me? Hey, she cleans Madden's room for him. A dude can dream
.

Tossing off my clothes that wreak of booze, cigarettes, and expensive perfume, I fumble around the piles of clothes that need to be folded or washed.

I know it's sad that the two once separate piles have now morphed into one booby trap. At least it protects my door from unwanted guests.

I grab a pair of work pants and one of my white shirts that has my name embroidered over the pocket. As soon as my shoes are on, I look around the room for my cell phone.

There's no telling where that shit is.

Carelessly, I knock the car mags off my night stand, rifle through my top drawer past the empty vials I know I need to toss. Thankful I have one left that's full, I grab it, and a fresh needle.

Between the piercings and tattoos I have, needles don't even cause an eyebrow raise any more. You might wanna look the other way if you're squeamish. Don't worry. It's only gonna take a second.

Once I'm done, I toss the empty vile back in the drawer and the needle in the disposal container that's specifically for them.

Before you start questioning why I have one of those but can't throw the vial away, Knox bought us those years ago to use and two...I'm lazy. Whatever.

I return to searching for my phone. Feeling a little annoyed at the fact I can't find the damn thing, I growl as I hunt under my bed around half empty soda bottles and energy drinks.

“You know it might help if you clean your fucking room,” Madden's voice pulls me up to my feet.

Madden is scary as fuck. Triple D, which is what we've been nicknamed since we came home from the hospital, we're intimidating only when we need to be. Madden's face is sharp with nothing soft to it. The jagged scar along his jaw bone line doesn't help the stone cold killer look he portrays. Before you ask if he is or isn't, let me ask you something. Would you blame him if he was because it was the only way he knew to protect this family? To make sure we weren't killed instead? It's fucked up, but we live in a kill or be killed lifestyle. And now that the youngest two of the crew are dead, his kill instinct has jumped. Severely.

“Yeah, but then I wouldn't have a good excuse for being late to work.”

“You never have a good fucking excuse.”

I shrug before I toss my pillows around finding it resting underneath.

Bastard...Sleeping in my bed without me
.

“Where the fuck were you last night?”

“You want her name or address?” My sarcasm causes his jaw to tick.

He's not in the mood for my bullshit, but if we're talking about not being in the mood, I'm not in it for his. A little hungover here
.

Madden folds his arms across his chest. “That shit's not funny Triple D.”

“Nothing’s funny to you anymore, Mad Man.” With a shake of my head I slide my phone in my back pocket. “You're not the only one who lost family. You’re not the only one who lost a fucking brother. With all due respect, we're all entitled to cope, even if it's not the same way you do.”

He doesn't hesitate to call me out on my bullshit. “You call putting back a bottle a night and fucking chicks like you're in the Slut Olympics, coping?”

“Better than riding my brothers into the ground with work while turning my dick into a rusted tool,” I counter.

I expect him to break down and yell. Jump down my throat and scream until I listen yet he simply says, “Do whatever the fuck you need to do to deal with this shit, but stop leaving your fucking phone at home.” My mouth twitches to open and he continues, “The shit with The Devil isn't over. I'm not prepared to lose another fucking brother because he couldn't get his dick scratched at home where I knew he was fucking safe, so I'm gonna tell you one last fucking time. Come. Home. At. Night.”

“Seriously?” I snap. “You don't get to dictate that shit! It might have worked with Merrick-”

He points a finger at me. “Don't.” 

My mouth shuts.

Fuck. Did I forget to mention he's basically put a ban on using our dead baby brother's name? And our cousin’s? I don't fucking know if he thinks it's gonna make the pain of them being gone hurt any more than it already does or what. I hate to be the one to break it to him. It can't possibly hurt any more than it already does
.

“Madden,” Knox’s voice comes from over his shoulder.

Both of our attention turns to her.

“We've um...we've got a situation downstairs.” The expression on her face lets me know it's one that should have us all worried.

Knox isn't your run of the mill chick. She's a McCoy. Not much scares or worries her, us aside. She has a pair of nuts as strong as the rest of us for the bullshit we endure, so if she looks scared there's a damn fucking good reason
.

Madden quickly moves past her with me right behind him. The moment we hit the shop on the bottom floor, it's obvious what has Knox rattled.

“Oh look, the cheerleader ran to get the captain of this piece of shit shop,” one of the police officers says, pulling his sunglasses off his face.

Fucking cops. So many are crooked there's very little reason to believe any exist to actually protect and serve the community.

Madden folds his arms across his chest once more. This time, I follow the action and stand beside him.

I'm the second oldest. I'm the one shit falls on when it rolls off of Madden. Believe it or not I'm the most responsible of Triple D
.

Unimpressed by their presence, I ask, “Can we help you?”

The other cop, who reminds me of Seth Rogen with less of the charm, starts to point. “Everything in this shop legal?”

Without waiting for Madden to speak I announce, “We run a legit business.”

Sunglasses leans against the wall. “Can you prove that?”

Destin speaks, “Every day that ends in y.”

“And all these parts?” Sunglasses chomps on his gum. “These are 'legit' too?”

“Every. Single. One.” I assure. “Now, is there a service you were looking for?”

“Watch your tone,” the Seth Rogen look alike snaps. “You're speaking to an officer of the law.”

“No he's not,” Daniel mouths off from under the hood of a Ferrari.

Yeah. That's Daniel. Iron balls and brainless.

Stepping to the side he wipes the grease off his hands with a rag. “He's talking to a puppet of The Devil.”

Sunglasses nods. “One puppet would recognize another.”

“We don't do shit for The Devil anymore,” Madden speaks for the first time. “And just so we're all on the same fucking page, you can give him a message, I'm coming for him....”

“You sound a little bitter McCoy,” the curly hair cop says sliding his hands in his pocket. “Hell, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were pissed like it was you who was being watched by IA.”

So the truth comes to light. They're pissed off because instead of gliding under the radar like all of The Devil's cops always have, they're being watched
.

“Someone sold out a bunch of us to IA,” Sunglasses growls. “We've got reason to believe it was a McCoy.”

“We don't really like red and blues,” Daniel’s sneer makes me and Destin chuckle.

“Obviously,” I add.

“So why would we walk into a place surrounded by them to snitch out you rats?” Daniel says joining my side. “That doesn't sound very bright.”

Destin moves so he's standing next to Daniel. “That doesn't sound very safe.”

A McCoy wall. It rarely happens and when it does it's never a good thing. Hell, kind of like having all of us in the same room outside of a party. It usually means something bad is about to come.

“Well someone is selling out names that only you fuckers could have,” curly hair growls. “And we don't appreciate it.”

“Thems the breaks,” Daniel smugly replies.

Curly head makes a motion for my brother, “You smart mouth fuck up I swear-”

“One hand.” I interrupt immediately. “One hand on my brother and I'll drop you where you stand.”