Saved By My Step-Brother

Chapter 8 - "I want to join your team."

Mike opened his eyes, and found himself in a jail cell. His head was pounding, his eyes were barely adjusting to the light, and he fell onto the floor accidentally. With a groan, he lifted himself up, barely able to hold his balance.

All he could remember was leaving the home and heading downtown after James left, since the news was causing a rage to burst into flames in his system. He needed to relax, he needed to calm down, which was ideally why he left his condo. He did not expect to blackout and wake up the next day in a jail cell. He stood to his feet and approached the bars.

"Hey," he yelled, receiving no answer. He yelled again, and finally an officer paid attention to him.

"What do you want?"

"Why am I here?" Mike asked.

The officer chuckled before shaking his head. He turned away for a moment and returned with a mirror, handing it to Mike, "Take a look at yourself." When Mike stared in the mirror, he almost let it drop on the floor. One of his eyes was swollen, and he had a cut on the end of his lip. His jaw was bruised, and there was dry blood under his nose. "Got into a fight with three big dudes," the officer laughed, "which surprised me since you were giving them a beating when we got there. You tried to fight us as well, which is part of the reason you're in here."

Mike snickered, "I still look good," he murmured and sent a hand through his tangled hair.

The officer chuckled, but when his name was called, he faced sideways. Suddenly, he reached into his pockets, "You're in luck, someone just came and bailed you out."

"Probably my brother, he always does that," Mike stated quietly.

However, when he reached the front of the station, he searched around for a familiar gaze but was unable to find one. Again, his eyes rotated amongst the people ont he waiting room, and he could not recognize anybody. Until, a blond man stood from his seat, and excitingly waved his hand towards Mike. Instantly, Mike raised a confused eyebrow, turned backwards to see if there was anybody behind him. The officer slammed his palm on Mike's shoulder, "That's him alright. You be safe out there, take care."

The man was tall, taller than Mike by a few inches, and his face was sharp, fiercer than Mike's as well. His shoulders were broad, built triceps holding his neck. His arms were unexpectedly built and toned, which was another reason why Mike immediately did not like that guy. However, the guy approached him, and extended his palm, "You alright?"

"Who are you?"

The man scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously as his eyes squinted, "I guess you don't remember. I met you last night, at Fredo's bar."

Mike frowned, raising an eyebrow in his direction before simply starting to walk, and passed by him. He was not in the mood to meet some random people, and was only focused on getting home. However, when the man followed him out the station, and continued to attempt to speak with him, Mike became annoyed. "Leave me alone," he spat angrily.

The man sighed, "Well if you want to get home, you're going to need these." Mike glanced over his shoulder, and realized his keys and wallet were in the man's palm. Before Mike could snatch from his reach, the man hid them behind his back, and shook his head, "You're pretty alert now?"

"What do you want from me?"

"We had a pretty long conversation yesterday," he said smugly, "You told me all about the issues you have."

Mike's eyes widened in alert; he could not remember what he said. However soon enough, his entire features darkened as he roared menacingly, "You better keep your trap shut or else. I have people that could end your life in an instant—"

"Don't worry," the man snickered, "you told me all about that too. Your father is Wolf, the drug lord. You told me about him too, and yourself as well, Michael Hawk. But see..." the man leaned forward, and the atmosphere surrounding him had changed. It seemed as if it had dried from the humorist features, and Mike wanted to check if the flowers had began dying nearby from his mere presence. It was a wicked sadistic smirk on his visage as he said, "I have my own people too. You're not the only one with a father whose a drug lord, Mike."

He winked, and Mike inhaled sharply. When he heard that, the man stood back straight, "Relax, I'm not here to blackmail you."

"Then why are you here?"

The man cleared his throat, "I want to join your team."

Mike scoffed, "You what?"

"I want to join the little clique you have," when Mike still appeared, he said, "you know, the team to get August back—"

"You're not supposed to know about that," Mike ushered, swirling his eyes to see if anybody was listening on their conversation, "and you better keep that to your f*****g self."

"You're not understand me," the man laughed coolly, "I told you I'm not here to blackmail. To be honest, I can help you more than you think." He extended his palms, and Mike's gaze fell on his keys and his wallet. When he met the man's gaze again, the man was insisting, raising his eyebrows and waiting, "The people you're going after such as Dante, I have my own issues that harmonize with that path."

Mike reached for them, and was surprised when the man didn't pull away. When that happened, the man snickered and began stepping backwards, "Just think about it. Meet me at the same bar on Friday if you agree, at the same time. If you don't show up, then I'll know you didn't agree. It'd be a shame if you didn't, since there is some information I know that will greatly be of help to you."

Mike simply watched as the man winked, and turned around, beginning to march towards a parked BMW. He had dragon tattoos along his arm, and another tattoo of a skull on the back of his neck. He also had a long thick scar along the arm with his sleeve tattoo, and Mike was stunned; this was becoming interesting. However, soon enough, he scoffed and turned around; they did not need help from a complete stranger to save his own sister. If that was what they resorted to, then they shouldn't save her in the first place.