Emmett and Kazimir shared a tub of Neapolitan ice cream in bed. He let Kazimir scoop out all of the strawberry flavored, since he knew that was his favorite.

"You feeling any better?" Emmett asked before shoveling a spoonful of chocolate ice cream in his mouth.

"A little. Feels nice to eat this." Kazimir sunk his spoon back into his strawberry ice cream. "I think I might've taken too much coke lately. This has happened to me before, and it really messes up my throat and nose."

"You gotta be careful with how much you take. If you're too careless, you could overdose." Emmett reached out, brushing his fingers over Kazimir's. "Come to me if you're struggling."

Kazimir swallowed, painfully, as he nodded. "I'm okay, I promise."

Emmett loved Kazimir more than anything. Just imagining him overdosing brought goosebumps on his arms. He didn't want to consider life without his precious artist. Maybe he could help him monitor his cocaine intake? Emmett always tried his best not to inject too much himself, yet he knew there was always a chance he could OD, no matter how many precautions he took.

"If something's wrong, you can talk to me."

Kazimir paused for a moment, shifting his gaze toward the window. "I overheard you talking to Alfie," Kazimir admitted. "I'm worried you're putting yourself in danger again."

"Ah, you heard our plans. Well, it's not foolproof, but it's the best I've got. My endgame's always been to chase those fuckers out of New Syracuse. Might as well get started on it."

"What are you gonna do?" Kazimir asked as worry clouded his brown eyes.

A sinister smirk crept upon Emmett's lips as he made a gesture resembling a gun with his hand, aiming it toward the windowpane. "I'm gonna blow their brains out."

"All of them?" Tremors were noticeable in his voice.

"As many of those fuckers I can shoot." Emmett reclined back, landing his head in their soft pillows. "If you're not comfortable getting involved, you don't have to."

"It's not that." Kazimir fiddled with the silver spoon in his hand.

"Then what's troubling you?" Curiosity sparked in Emmett's emerald eyes.

"What if things backfire? I know you need the supply, but isn't there another way?"

"Funny how we both worry like hell about each other." Emmett chuckled. "Yet we give no shits about ourselves."

"I'm being serious. Aren't you worried about what could happen to you? Drugs are one thing, but trying to murder an entire gang is like suicide. You won't kill them all. Those who remain will come after you."

"No faith in me at all? That hurts." Emmett clutched at his chest, mimicking a heart attack. "It's not like I'll do this alone, and I don't actually plan to kill all of their members right away. I want to scare the survivors to death, make them reconsider and abandon the Black Vipers. Their people aren't as loyal as mine, you know."

"Still, I think you should come up with another strategy," Kazimir insisted. "I can try to help you."

"I appreciate that, but I know what I'm doing, sweetheart. You've got nothing to worry about."

Emmett leaned over, rustling up his lover's brown hair. So adorable. He admired him for his efforts to find another way to supplement their loss. Things just couldn't always be so simple. Sometimes, he had to play dirty to get what he wanted.

💀

Murder the Black Vipers, steal their drugs, and set the place on fire. Should be simple enough, right? Emmett went over the plan in his head again like it was merely a grocery list, checking off each point. His gun weighed down in his overcoat pocket, and he couldn't help but wonder if he'd forgotten something.

From where he parked his truck in an alleyway across from a notorious drug house of the Black Vipers, Emmett ensured he had his gun loaded and carried extra ammunition. Never could have too much ammo when it came to shooting up their enemies. Although everything seemed in place, that inkling didn't vanish from his mind. Something felt wrong, yet he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

"I think we've got everything," Emmett said, sparing a glance at Alfie in the passenger seat. "You ready?"

"Let's just get this over with." Alfie propped his door open, slamming it behind him.

What the hell was his problem? Ever since they left the hideout, Alfie had been on edge. He barely spoke a word to him on their drive there. Emmett hastened his steps to keep up with Alfie, who marched ahead of him. It was the only way to supplement their losses, didn't he understand that?

Despite how Emmett kept it a secret about contacting Mayor Kaufman again, he wondered if Alfie somehow found out about it. But how? Emmett was careful about keeping his phone with him, never allowing his other members to catch a glimpse of their texts. With a swift glance around the neighborhood, he ensured nobody paid attention to them.

Heart pounding with each intake of air, Emmett took tenacious steps around the backyard, not wanting to be caught right out front. The last thing he needed was for any of their members to see them. This was the address that Mayor Kaufman had given him, right in the midst of their territory.

A knot in Emmett's stomach had him hesitate as Alfie lifted the latch on the gate, allowing them inside. Wind nipped at his face as he gazed around one final time. He desperately clutched the gun in his pocket, sliding it out when they neared the back door. Exhilaration and fear soared up into his throat, yet he continued up the porch to pick the door's lock.

Those fuckers wouldn't even know what hit them. Just thinking about how things would play out had him antsy to hurry inside. Before anyone caught wind of their intentions. With a groan of resistance, Emmett gently eased the door open and took a step into the kitchen. He drew his gun, directing it toward the doorway, awaiting someone to emerge from the other room.

Voices mingled from the living room. From their buoyant laughter, he suspected none of them heard. Their rap music likely concealed their footsteps. Marijuana and popcorn drifted throughout the kitchen, but when he reached the threshold, he froze. Emmett pushed his back against the wall, craning his neck to peek out, making sure none of them noticed him. When they focused their attention on one of the guys' phones, Emmett gestured for Alfie to follow him.

Four guys gathered on the couches. None paid attention to Emmett as he sneaked into the living room, too preoccupied with whatever funny video a shaggy haired guy played. Without warning, Emmett aimed his gun and fired. Two shots pierced a young man's head as Alfie took the next shot, hitting two of the others; one in the head and the other in the chest.

Blood splattered the walls and the furniture. Screams erupted. It was pure fucking chaos. It was so fucking amazing. Emmett savored the way the living ones begged for their lives and prayed to a God above to protect them. There was no heaven in New Syracuse. They were all in fucking hell.

One of the guys dropped down onto the floor, desperately crawling across the floor to safety. The pitiful sight made Emmett snicker. He came up behind the guy, kicking him in the side until it forced him to stop crawling. Tears gathered in the man's eyes as he met Emmett's gaze; a twisted spark of bloodlust shone in them.

"Please," he whimpered. "I don't wanna die."

Emmett responded with a gunshot to the face. He showed no mercy toward their foe. Those assholes were responsible for Mal's murder. Until he found the actual culprits, he'd kill every last one of them. Blood and brain matter painted the floor beneath him as he reeled back, tucking his gun away in his coat. His buddies remained on the couch, sprawled out in ungainly positions with blood leaking from their wounds. None of them survived.

"Boss?"

Emmett stood in the midst of the carnage. Dead bodies surrounded him, and the miasma of their blood made him wrinkle his nose. It would be a warning to those damn Black Vipers. Never mess with their guys again.

"Let's find their stash and get the hell out of here," Emmett said, tucking his gun back into his pocket.

"Tell me, how did you find out about this place?" Alfie asked.

"I've got my sources." Emmett shrugged, moseying down the hallway. "Where would these dumbasses keep their stash? Any ideas?"

"Maybe you should've held one of them hostage and forced it out of them," Alfie remarked.

"Why would they tell me that? They all knew they were gonna die," Emmett pointed out. "Dead men tell no tales, they take their secrets to their grave. Survivors turn into witnesses who turn us into the cops. I'm not taking any chances."

"Sometimes, I never know what's going through your mind," Alfie grumbled.

Emmett tilted his head back in amusement, grinning. "Killing those bastards was a lot of fun. Did you see how squirrelly they got after I shot the first one?"

Alfie sighed, rummaging through dresser drawers. "Yeah, they were terrified."

"Something wrong?" Emmett got down on his knees, searching underneath the bed. A lockbox caught his eye.

"No, nothing, boss."

Emmett wriggled the box out, frowning at the lock "Well, shit."

"You think these might open it?" Alfie waved a little set of keys in the air before tossing them over.

To Emmett's luck, they worked. Plastic bags of cocaine filled the lockbox, and Emmett immediately slammed the lid shut. "Let's get the hell out of here. We got what I needed."

Without sparing another look back, they took off back into the night. The moon and stars bore witness to their ruthless killings. It wouldn't be long before someone stumbled across their bodies, but Emmett hoped they dawdled with the investigation. He didn't have faith in the New Syracuse Police Department, so he wasn't too concerned, but maybe he should've been.

Only when Emmett reached his car did he peek into the rearview mirror and cuss. A police cruiser hid amongst the shadows, blending in behind a single-styled house. Panic rose up in his throat as he started the ignition, keeping a close eye out on the car. It made no indication of pursuing them, so Emmett wasted no time getting the hell out of there.

Even when they left the street, Emmett's paranoia kept him peering behind them every minute. They'd know his car. That officer back there probably ran the plates already, which thankfully, weren't registered to him. But Emmett knew what they needed to do.

"We gotta get rid of the car."