Syndicate of Sins (Toxic Paradise, #2)

by Marie Maravilla

Blue eyes popped up from behind a laptop screen, with a Sig pointed at me. She set the gun back down after she registered who I was, pulling off the silver headphones covering her ears. “Hey, Kenji, what’s up?” she asked, her tone light and chipper, as if she hadn’t been ready to blow a hole in someone. I leaned against the wall, taking in her setup. Two laptops, headphones, a phone, a gun, and a sixteen ounce sugar-free Red Bull.

“How about you take care of yourself, Kenji?” she said, her voice dripping with snark. I leaned forward, licking the seam of her lips and using her surprise as the opportunity to suck on her tongue. Her little gasps sent electric shocks straight to my balls. “I have been taking care of myself, Scar. Remember my video? I’m waiting for you to come to do it for me,” I said against her mouth before pulling away and walking into the elevator.

But I was well known when I stepped into certain circles. Or cages. That was how Ryan and I had met—in the illegal fight circuit. I was working a job out in Arizona, and my mark was supposed to be at a fight night held by Los Muertos. The only way in was to enter the bracket.

“What do you know about who runs this?” I asked, curious about how much he knew and what the plan was. Before he got a chance to answer, there was a clicking noise, and the door popped open, revealing a set of metal stairs that led below ground into the heart of the real operation. An operation I was very familiar with. Well, this will be fun.

The bouncer, Umar, almost blew it when he saw me at the door. Luckily, Kenji had been standing slightly in front of me, so he didn’t see me give the man a small headshake. And the damn vault of a door I’d installed for Magomed’s fight venue covered the shit poker face the bouncer had. That’s how I came to train with Zabit. I made a deal with Magomed. I’d do his security setup if he taught me how to fight properly. That had been years ago now.

Dropped. Zabit hit the mat with a thud that sounded like a gunshot. KO from a fucking head kick.

“Watch the way you fucking talk to her because I was being nice in there. I’ll permanently put you in the ground if you disrespect her,” he whispered menacingly, red tinged spit landing on the fighter’s chest.

Zabit’s hands came up in surrender at the threat. “Hey, man, no disrespect. And no offense, but if I disrespected Scar, she’d put me in the ground herself. She wouldn’t need you to do it for her.”

“That answers my next question. She hasn’t shown you her takedowns yet. Since she snitched inside info on me, here’s some on her: She’s shit at getting out of heel hooks,” Zabit said, amusement in his eyes.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a special night indeed. Not only does your new champion already have to defend his title, but he gets to do it against a familiar face. Don’t let the fact that she’s a woman fool you. She’s a killer.”

“That’s how this works here, Kenji. If you want to meet the boss, you have to fight. That night.” I walked up the steps of the cage. “Hit me like you mean it, Kenji. Where’s the man who had the balls slice my skin and then lap it up?” Fire and chaos.

“You’re so hot covered in blood, Kenji,” I said, licking my lips as he walked me down. “Are you going to lick it off me?” he asked while circling around, looking for a chink in my armor. “Oh, I’m going to lick something.”

She was a goddamned enigma. When we’d gotten here, I wasn’t sure why she seemed so comfortable around the fights. I would never have fucking guessed that she trained with the Dagestani. A shiver of excitement shot down my spine, straight to my balls.

“No, I’m thinking about sinking to my knees and lapping up that cunt like a good fucking boy,” I whispered, my hand shooting out to steady her as she lost her balance.

“Scar, there are other ways of getting Zabit to get his knee fixed that don’t include you fucking me out of a shit ton of cash.”

“If I recall, I suggested he get that fixed months ago. Yet here we are, and the idiot is still fighting on it. You’re lucky I was cornering his opponent,” she responded, wagging a finger at Magomed as if he were a petulant child and not a notoriously vicious crime lord.

All three men paled at the expression painted across my face. The chilling cold of not giving a shit about the sanctity of life. No one should depend on my moral compass, because it didn’t function properly.

“We’ll take it. And there was no disrespect. Scar is family, and she knows it. If she’s giving you three her loyalty, then we will too. But don’t make the same fucking mistakes the Four are doing and disrespect us,” he said, his eyes hardening.

The recoil sent jolts of satisfaction coursing up my arm. A pained shout told me I’d hit my mark. Horror or regret were never the emotions that ran through my mind after a kill. Not even after my first one. I felt nothing but satisfaction knowing whoever had shot at us was lying there, his lungs gurgling for air as blood seeped into the earth, watering it. Cursing the land with the blood of my enemies, like the Curse of Cain.

“Are you in pain? Stupid question. You’ve been shot. Grazes hurt like a bitch.” I grabbed the bottom of his helmet and lifted it off. “Here, I’ll help you with this.” My words came out more rushed than I intended because I was feeling out of control, and he wasn’t giving any feedback. “You really care?” His question took me off guard. “What are you talking about?” I asked, instantly placing the back of my hand on his forehead. It was clammy, but nothing crazy, and he hadn’t lost that much blood. “I mean,” he took my hand in his, “you really do care about whether I’m okay or not.”

“No one, other than Caleb and Niko, has ever cared about me when I’ve been injured,” he whispered. Now I recognized the emotion that had flitted across his face. It was the same one that now dripped from his tone—awe.

“It’s okay to let someone in. I used to think I had to do this alone too, that stuffing my emotion would save me from the pain of love and loss. But it doesn’t. You can only flip that switch for so long before the pressure of all you’ve shoved away explodes.” His thumbs were featherlight as they rubbed across my face. “I was surprised that you would care for me after the way we started out. Let me care for you too.”

“Scar,” he tilted my face up to him, “you’re ours, and we protect each other in this family. I can’t do that if I don’t know who I’m going to fucking murder for shooting at my wife.” There was a cruel flicker in his eyes. No doubt men withered under this glare, just as they did mine. My spine stiffened, each vertebra stacking one on top of the next until it was as straight as a rod. Caleb didn’t scare me. He excited me. “Well, you don’t have to worry about at least one of them.” Caleb’s attention flicked to the couch, where Kenji was being tended to. “Our girl there took one out,” Kenji commented, wincing as Niko cleaned the graze.

My fingers wrapped around the burner, and I tried to steady my breath before I answered. There was no need to look at who the caller was. There was only one person who had this number, and I didn’t want her to know she had me rattled. “Ryan. I’ve missed hearing that sexy voice of yours,” I responded, ignoring the growls that erupted from the men around me.

No dick was more important that Ryan. Even if the dick was attached to any of the three sinfully hot men I had no doubt knew how to show me nirvana over and over and over again. Ryan’s sensual Hispanic accent refocused my attention. “Scar, I have a favor to ask. But we need to meet at one of your places.”

“Anything for you, Ryan. But I have a bit of an asshole men problem at the moment.”

“Do you need me to look into what’s happening? I’m guessing the club is compromised if you need to meet at my place,” she responded. It took me a moment to realize that she was talking to the fucker on the other end of the line.

“My friend Ryan needs information and asked to meet at my safe house in Tucson tomorrow.”

“Oh, husband. Having a cock in my mouth puts me in a position of power.” Her eyes drifted toward Kenji and Niko, who both had their dicks fisted in their hands. “You should try it sometime. There are enough cocks to go around.” A loud groan fell from Kenji.

“I’m a dumbass, Scar. I’ve always held on to the belief that I couldn’t love a woman because women can’t handle this life. That I would lose someone again because of that.” Her eyes widened when I said love, but I continued, choosing not to think too deeply about my word choice. “You’ve always been fierce and capable, and it fucked me up that the only woman who could soothe my fears shares the same last name with a man I hate. But I don’t give a fuck what your last name is. You’re fucking mine, and I’m yours if you’ll have me,” I said, holding my breath as I watched her face for a sign of what she was thinking.

“You don’t care what my last name was. Because I’m now a Callahan.”

“We’re so fucking good together, baby. This pussy was designed for me,” I said, slamming into her so hard my balls bounced off her clit. “My. Fucking. Wife. Say it.”

“You’re my fucking husband. I own you.” She cried out. “Fuck, I love the way your balls slap my pussy,” she said, reaching down and rubbing her clit, her pussy getting even wetter around my cock.

“You’re ours,” I whispered against her lips, and sleep pulled me under.

“Yeah. Magomed hired Cain to take out some asshole stealing children back in his home country. He’s not allowed back there, so he needed—” Caleb cut me off. “Wait, you fucking know Cain? No one can get a hold of them. They’re a fucking ghost. So how the fuck did you?” Understanding flashed in his eyes. His thick brows hit his hairline as he leaned forward on his powerful forearms. “You mean to fucking tell me that you are the infamous merc for hire?”

Cain had a reputation for being ruthless. She ran clean jobs in the sense that there was no evidence as to Cain’s true identity, but there were rumors on more than one occasion of the chaos she left strewn in her wake.

“Majority of the East Coast orders are run through Tucson. Ryan is in charge of all operations there. So, if you don’t believe me, ask about it when we get there.”

Ryan was constantly busy keeping them at bay. Her vigilante justice started long before we met, but her reputation in Tucson as La Brujita de Los Muertos began the night she and I killed that asshole. She gained a nickname on the streets, and I garnered a reputation for not being fucked with. No one bothered my section of this alley. And there sure as hell were no more attacks unless I was holding the blade.

A man, if his height and bulk were anything to go by. She must’ve trusted him if she brought him here. Last I knew, she hadn’t even told Sergio about our friendship.

“Exactly, little one. You don’t want a white knight. You want someone whose soul is as twisted as your own.”

“You don’t want my protection. You want my loyalty. Our loyalty.”

“He’s cute,” I stated matter-of-factly, rolling my eyes at the growl Caleb let out from behind me. No doubt the other two would’ve made similar sounds of protest. Thankfully they were situated farther away from the door. I could already imagine the death glares this dude was about to get.

“Come on, follow me. And ignore my pest problem. I keep trying to exterminate them, but they continue to come back like roaches. Or psycho criminals.”

“Bringing clients home, Scar? An interesting group here; we’ve got, what? Yakuza, Bratva, and…Irish Mob?” she asked, canting her head toward where Caleb stood, glaring. What was interesting was the way the guy with her stiffened at the mention of the mob. His leather cut made it obvious he was an MC member, and his patch said sergeant at arms. Road name Gunner.

His posture was too tight, and he was too much of a gentleman to be a one-percenter. Ryan probably hadn’t noticed because of what a shithead Mario was. The Gunner guy was probably a welcomed change.

Ice flooded my veins as the pieces clicked together. I did know who this fucker was, and he wasn’t a biker. Or he hadn’t been when he was in New York making his rounds in the Irish fight rings.

“You’re the Los Muertos arms dealer,” I stated, looking over toward Scar. Her cheeks heated under my scrutiny. I resisted the urge to smile at her look of guilt. “So Ryan doesn’t have a dick,” I stated, my eyebrow hitting my hairline as I directed the comment at my lovely wife. She knew her lie would lead to a fight between us later tonight, and I had a sneaking suspicion that she’d told the lie for that reason.

Yet here I was in a room with two highly skilled women who not only worked in the criminal world but were dominant in their areas. It was a shame they had to operate under the guise of being men so they would be respected in the ways they deserved. A chuckle came from Gunner. “No, she doesn’t, but you’re just finding that out, huh?”

“Baby, I’d thank you for death by your hands.” Lust clung to Kenji’s words.

I’d thought love was bullshit, but this woman had all three of us by the fuckin’ balls, and the feelings swirling in my heart no longer felt like lust alone.