Iconic (Adrenaline Series Book 6) Read online

  Iconic

  Adrenaline Series Book 6

  Xavier Neal

  Iconic

  Adrenaline Series Book 6

  By Xavier Neal

  © Xavier Neal 2015

  Published by Entertwine Publishing

  Cover by Entertwine Publishing

  Cover Photographer: Jessica Anhalt

  Cover Model: Reuben Ondarza

  All rights reserved

  License Note

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without authorization of the Author or Entertwine Publishing. Any distribution without express consent is illegal and punishable in court of law.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

  Dedicated to: The Universe. Thank you for giving me all the pieces to make my own life iconic.

  Madden

  I know that crushing his windpipe makes it damn near impossible for him to answer my fucking question, but the line between caring about what he actually has to say and caring that another piece of shit has properly been disposed of is a bit blurry. Then again, most of the lines between right and wrong, injustice and integrity, fact and opinion are fuzzy. Fuck. My entire life is one giant question of morality. Go ahead. Judge me. I fucking deserve it.

  My fingers curl in tighter. The color of his face finally fades into a satisfying shade. “One. Chance.”

  When I release him he plummets to the ground. With several over dramatic pats to the chest, he mimics begging for air to return to his lungs.

  “I kill you next.” Folding my arms across my chest, I state, “Answer my question.”

  “Okay, okay,” the wormy little bastard whimpers. He hits his head against the brick wall. After looking both directions of the deserted alley, he lifts a hand. “I don't know who fucked with Ben's car-”

  “Dead man.”

  “Wait! Wait! Wait!” He cowers, scooting away from me as if hoping he can be absorbed into the wall. “Wait! I- I- I- I do know who does know. Guaranteed!”

  “Name.”

  “Danny Domingo.” Wiping the blood away from his nose he continues to snitch, “Danny Domingo knows. He's uh...he's been keeping the information as a bargaining chip since the whole thing went down. He bragged it was too juicy not to use.”

  “Call him,” I demand. “I want a name.”

  His mouth twitches to object, but he doesn't say anything.

  “Do you understand?”

  “D-D-D-Danny isn't easy to find and he doesn't just give up names.”

  Not a wise thing to say to the man who determines whether you live or die on the sidewalk like the rat you're being. Don't you agree?

  Swiftly I lift him back to his feet by his throat. Squeezing it once more, I bang him against the wall. “I don't give a fuck if you have to drop to your pathetic knees and suck his cock for the information I want.” When he squirms this time I pound his head as warning to knock the shit off. “I'm not asking. You get me that fucking name because this shit right here is a warning.” His hands try to pry my arm away. “You know me. You know what I'm capable of. Don't fuck with me.” This time when I drop him he falls completely over into a fetal position. “You made a huge mistake recruiting my baby cuz to do your dirty work for you, you sorry sack of shit.”

  Ben was the same age as my baby brother, Merrick. 23. Much too young to die. I lost both of them within the same month. Neither of their deaths were accidents. Make no mistake that retribution will be had.

  Between gasps he apologizes, “I'm sorry McCoy-”

  “Not yet.” I shake my head. “Sorry will be the last feeling you remember having when I break your goddamn neck if I don't have a name within a week.”

  “A week!?”

  “I'm feeling generous.” Shoving my hands in my leather jacket I growl, “Don't fucking make me regret that.”

  Without another word, I turn around and head towards my black Hellcat Challenger, the cold fall air trying to invade my system.

  Too bad there's no room for it. As you can probably see by now, the thing pumping through it is much colder and much harsher. If you had to live through even half of what I have had to, trust me, you would be just as fucking callous. That is if you didn't kill yourself first. I've thought about it. It just makes shit so much worse to know if I had there's a good chance most of my family might still be alive.

  Knoxie

  It's awkward to see an old fuck buddy right? Wouldn't you agree it's more fucking awkward to see them on your way in to see your 86 year old grandmother who is anxiously waiting for you to tell her you're done slutting around and are married to the love of your life? Oh good. We're agreeing on shit already. That's good.

  “Knox the Fox,” Ax coos at me, sliding his hands into his black dress pants pockets. “Surprise, surprise.”

  “Ax...” I coo back, eyes drinking him in.

  Oh fucking sue me. I haven't boned anyone in over a month. I swear my ovaries are gonna shrivel, pack up, and fucking move out at this rate. Besides, look at him! Perfect tan skin even in the winter. Perfectly white teeth. Surfer build who can clearly wear a suit like no other man I've met. Well, almost no other man.

  His tongue hangs out the corner of his mouth for a brief moment. “You're still as sexy as ever.”

  Leaning against the door of my jeep, I shrug. “That'll never change.”

  He playfully smiles. “I miss seeing you.”

  “You're the one who ended things.”

  He agrees, “That's true. But you can't blame me. There's only so many times a guy can fuck a girl he knows is wishing he was someone else.”

  I don't dispute that fact.

  Hush. I am not the only person in the world who has fucked someone else while being in love with a different person. It happens all the time. Don't start that judging shit. I wanna like you. Besides a girl's got itches even the best vibrator can't always scratch.

  “Are you two together now?”

  My eyes glance away.

  Ax pokes again, “After all the shit you've told me, that we've talked about, you still haven't done anything about it?”

  Uncomfortable I bite my bottom lip

  “Did he at least finally start to pay more attention to you?”

  “Are we really doing this?” I snap folding my arms across my chest. “I'm about to go see my grandmother.”

  Ax surrenders his hands. “Sorry. Didn't mean to piss you off.”

  “You did.”

  “Maybe a little,” he sighs.

  “Why?”

  “I like the way your nose scrunches when you're trying to keep your cool.”

  “Ugh...”

  “However, I want us to be friends again, Knox. Like we were before you started to fuck me to forget about him.”

  Ax and I were just friends in the beginning. Swear. He was an easy enough guy to be around, which says a lot considering all the other men in my life are a pain in the ass. They're hot headed and stubborn. One day at the beach while I was trying to run away from my feelings, I stumbled into his shop, which he runs when he's not being forced to work in a courtroom as a lawyer. We started talking during my search for vintage perfume bottles and instantly clicked. See, my grandmother who was the one to raise me, had a special fondness for them. My grandfather's favorite way to treat her was with expensive perfumes in fancy bottles, so after he died, it became one of 'our things' to search for more of those bottles that people typically throw out. Our collection is impressive. When I had
to put her in this retirement center, she made me swear I would keep collecting. I have. Ax has made it easier than ever, texting me as soon as one comes in. One day, one of those texts came on a very emotionally frustrating day and he let me fuck out my sadness with no strings attached. Isn't that how the really complicated shit always starts though? With 'no strings'? Well in case you didn't know 'no strings' is a giant crock of bullshit.

  Softly he asks, “Think we can do that? Just be friends.”

  With a short smile, I nod. “Yeah...I do. I'd like that too.”

  “Good.” He prepares to walk off. “Gotta go. I have to meet my family for dinner."

  “Hence the monkey suit.”

  “I'm dying in this thing.” Ax tugs the collar of his dress shirt. “If I'm not seeing a judge this shit is unnecessary. Apparently, my family objects to that since it's my brother's engagement dinner. But you better believe that sweet ass of yours the second it's over, it's board shorts and t-shirts for at least two weeks.”

  A small chuckle escapes as I bury my hands in the pockets of my old leather jacket that was a hand me down gift from Madden. “It's a little cold for that don't you think?”

  “Psh,” he says walking away. “Next thing I know you're gonna try to tell me it's too cold to catch the waves.”

  “It is too cold!”

  Ugh. Crazy hippie. Nice guy. I don't deserve a nice guy...I damn sure know nice guys don't deserve the hell I would put them through.

  I hustle towards the retirement home as the cold air delivers another kick. The red brick building is enormous. It is not only the largest retirement home in the city, but in the entire state. It is also ranked as the third best living community for the elderly in the country. They're staffed with amazing around the clock doctors and nurses. There is a medical facility attached to it for emergencies and serious health needs. They have entertainment areas from a movie theater to an actual theater for off Broadway performances. They also have multiple rec rooms and opportunities for them to exercise whether it's swimming or yoga.

  No, do not think about your grandmother doing downward dog...

  Between the partner swapping, gossip and price that borders on that of an ivy- league university, the entire thing reminds me of a college for senior citizens. Most of the money I bring in at the high profile mechanic shop would easily pay for this, but it doesn't have to. Some unknown source not only got her in, but took care of the bill for the next five years at least. She hasn't been in here that long, but long enough. Alzheimer's is a bitch. Even when you just have a touch of it.

  Walking down the hall, I toss a nod to a few familiar nurses on my way to my grandmother's room. Like usual, she's sitting in her rocking chair staring out the window.

  “Grandma Maggie...” I call out quietly.

  Sometimes when she's lost in her own mind like that and becomes startled, she becomes agitated and doesn't believe you are who you say you are. Typically it becomes an out of control argument that borders on verbally violent. Grandma Maggie, in her right mind, is one of the sweetest people to ever have existed. I know what you're thinking. And I just want it on record I have a nice side too! Let's not talk about why no one sees it. That's not important.

  “Knoxie,” she replies turning her face towards me with a bright smile.

  Most of the time she's fine. God I hate it when she's not...

  Shrugging off my jacket, I ask, “How ya doin'?”

  “Oh you know,” her voice sounds fragile. “Was thinking about Jack.”

  Grandpa Jack is where I'm certain I got my crazy set of genes from. I didn't get to know him because he died in the same accident as my parents, but from everything she describes, I'm the spitting image of him and his son, my father. My other set of grandparents are non-existent. They had a falling out with my mother when she married my father and probably have no fucking idea I even exist.

  Once I'm sitting on the edge of her bed closest to her, I question, “What about him?”

  “When we got married,” her voice sings with joy. Grandma Maggie's hand falls onto my leg. “Did I ever tell you how much he couldn't stand wearing the suit? He wanted his leather jacket back...”

  My eyes glance at the one Madden gave me that's sitting beside me. I swallow the disappointment.

  I'll never have what they had. No matter how much I want it. I know I should be okay with it, but it still sucks to be reminded of it, even if that wasn't her intent.

  She pats my leg again. “Just like your boyfriend, Madden. I have ten bucks on him getting married in a leather jacket too.”

  “Not my boyfriend.”

  “In time.” Without allowing room for argument she continues, “So my dear, you okay? How's work?”

  “The shop is as busy as ever,” I reply pulling all of my straight, light brown hair to one side of my face, revealing the red puzzle pieces heart tattoo that's on my neck.

  Yes it's missing a piece on purpose and no he doesn't have a matching one. Why would he? I'm...I'm nothing more than just another McCoy to fall in the line with the rest. As much as I wish that was my last name, it's not. Just like as much as I wish Madden McCoy would open his insanely beautiful bright blue eyes to see the only girl in the world for him is me, he won't. Been chasing him long enough to know that.

  “And the family?”

  “They're...” The pause is long. “They're....making it.”

  We've lost three McCoys in the past few months. We're in the middle of a fucking war, losing more blood than we can afford. While my genetics are not technically McCoy, which is a great thing because being in love with one would be even weirder, I am just as much a part of that family as they are. I helped raise all three that have died. Surrounded by so much death you would think we could focus a little more on life and the things worth living for in it. Ya know, like normal people. Hate to break it you, nothing about us is normal.

  “No new news?”

  “Destin got a girlfriend.” I shrug. “She's adorable. Total geek like him.”

  Grandma Maggie smiles wide. “I told you those boys would find love.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They all will.”

  Looking away I mumble, “That I'm not so sure of.”

  “Give it some time,” she encourages. “Jack didn't just propose out the gate either.”

  I give her a sarcastic expression. “Grandpa Jack came out of the womb ready to marry you. Pretty sure he started saving his lunch money in elementary school to buy you a ring. All it took was one look. He gave you one look and he knew you were his.” On a sigh I add, “Or...at least so the story goes.”

  With a snicker she counters, “I've seen that McCoy give you the same look every time I've seen you in the same general vicinity, Knoxie.”

  “You're getting crazy on me old lady.”

  “You're getting forgetful on me young lady. Remember, it was me driving you over there for play dates. And it was me taking the two of you out on your first date-”

  “McDonald's playground does not count as a date.”

  “You were in Kindergarten.”

  “Still...” I argue. “Ugh. No. The conversation of Madden McCoy is over. Now would you like me to escort you down to the pool for an evening swim or do you wanna go bake a pie?”

  Grandma Maggie gives me a sweet smile. “Let's bake a pie you can take home to the man we're not supposed to be discussing.”

  My eyes glare. “You're an evil woman you know that.”

  “Of course.” She rises to her feet. “You really did get your sassiness from me. I just hide it better than you.”

  Shaking my head, I wrap an arm around her. “You're lucky you're my grandmother.”

  “You're lucky you're my granddaughter,” her correction makes me giggle.

  I am lucky. In a man filled, adrenaline pumping, death around every corner filled world I've fallen into, she is the saving grace. My saving grace. Believe me when I say, we all need a little bit of saving grace even if it's just a simple
smile from an aging woman.

  Madden

  I roll the clear liquid around in the glass staring at it as if I'll find all the answers to my problems there.

  There's no way in hell I will. Too many problems. Not enough bottles of tequila in the world to solve them. Besides I'm done trying to fix them. Right now the only thing I have on my agenda is penance for the disappointments I've created. Yeah. You guessed it. It's a long fucking list.

  “A double,” the scruffy voice I've come to know rather well says from beside me. When I glance over at Butcher, the Vice President of BV MC, he's adjusting his jacket, eyes facing forward. “McCoy.”