The Devil's Match

by Amo Jones

  “Where is she?” Raze bypasses us and heads straight for Frost. Frost gestures toward the stairs.

  “Master bedroom—bathroom.”

  I go toward Frost, his mouth hiding behind the palm of his hand. “You realize what you’ve done—right?”

  He nods, then takes a seat on the lounge situated at the front of a massive TV hanging on the wall. Chase, who has been quiet, takes a seat on the other side of the room, in front of a gas fireplace. His head rests in his hands and he slowly rocks. My eyes go between Frost and him as I internally decide who I’m going to sit with and console. I choose Chase because Frost knew exactly what he was doing when he did it. Obviously, I have his back through whatever war this has just started, but for now…

  “Hi.” I take a seat beside Chase on the cold fireplace hearth. It’s all made up of stones, mainly But it’s large enough to fill half a wall.

  Chase stops, and then his eyes meet mine from behind his shoulder. “Hey.”

  I tilt my head, my hand resting on his thigh. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye, but I ignore it. Right now, Chase needs me.

  A laugh escapes him, and not a nice laugh, a laugh that is obviously masking deeper shit. “You know, I’m actually fine?”

  “What?” I ask, genuinely confused. He looks like he’s about to lose his mind but he’s telling me he’s fine? Yeah, I’m not sure if I’m buying it.

  “No, seriously, Ella.” He swallows then gazes in front of him, his eyes glassing over. “There was stuff you don’t know, shit no one knows that she had done. I knew I was…well, a victim for the most part.” He halts, his eyes finding Frost. “Thank you. You did something I had wanted to do for some time. Now I can walk the fuck out of here free.”

  I cast a quick look to Frost, who is glaring at both of us. I swear to God this man is always staring at me like he wants me for dinner.

  “It was my pleasure,” Frost replies. I could punch him. Smug bastard.

  Chase scoffs, then stands from the fireplace. “Yeah, I guess it was.” He peers down at me, and I take this moment to get up too. His index finger hooks under my chin, his eyes searching mine. “If you need anything, you have my number, right?”

  Frost sneers.

  I nod. “Thank you.” I bring the palm of my hand up to the side of his face, lean up on my tippy toes, and then press my lips to his. Warm, inviting, familiar.

  “Aye!” Frost snaps, and I pull back before there’s another murder on our hands.

  “I’ll call you,” I confirm.

  Chase goes to walk out of the penthouse but stops when he’s in the elevator, halting the doors with his hands. “Might see you at NYU.” His grin was the last thing I saw before the metal doors snapped closed.

  “Motherfucker!” Frost bursts out, walking to the elevator.

  “Leave it alone,” I whisper to Frost, then turn to face the stairs, sensing both Miles and Raze standing at the top. “What the fuck are we going to do now?”

  “Well, first of all, you’re leaving,” Raze says, taking double steps. “And don’t fucking fight me on this. You need to get your ass to NYU where it’s supposed to be.” I open my mouth and then close it.

  “He’s right.” That came from Frost behind me. “You need to do the college thing, Ella.”

  I spin around to face him. “What?” I don’t know why, but some twisted part inside of me thought that with Ikea dead, maybe Frost and I could have a better shot. Aside from all the bullshit that is constantly going on around us, there’s no doubt at all that we share something special. When we’re not going on massacres together.

  He comes toward me, his eyes searching mine. His finger brushes over my cheek. “You need to do this, babe. As much as this whole back and forth thing gets my dick hard, you deserve this.”

  I swallow past the lump that feels as though it has formed in my throat, then whisper, “You don’t know what I deserve.”

  “What, me? You think you deserve me?” He laughs, tossing his head back. “Naww, baby. You don’t want this.”

  “Why?” I choke out, ignoring how his words are like knives being stabbed through my belly.

  “Because I’m incapable of having those feelings for anyone.” He smirks, then his obsolete grin turns to a small lazy smile. “Even you.”

  I knew this before he had even said it, so why the hell was I so shocked.

  “Come on, devil face.” Miles slips in behind me. “I’ll take you to your dorm.”

  “Frost… if I walk out that door right now, I won’t be coming back. There will be no second chance and that would be it for us.”

  “I know,” he replies, dropping down onto the sofa, his eyes coming up blank again. The moment we just had, whatever that was, was definitely gone now. It’s a mere shadow of the past, even if it did happen seconds ago. “Good thing there was no us.”

  Ouch. I pull back from Miles’ grip. “I’ll take myself out, and don’t worry, I will be leaving this time.”

  FROST

  I watch as Ella walks out of the apartment for the final time, then tilt my head back, leaning on the edge of the sofa. “Fuck.”

  “Well,” Miles mutters, and I can feel him walking closer to me without seeing him.

  “Don’t start, man. I just want out of this fucking shit-show and on my fucking bike.” Sitting up, I shoot a look at Raze. “What’s the plan?”

  Raze takes a seat beside me. “I’ll have to set it up as a break-in. I’ll call it in and organize it because that way, they’ll hand her operations over to me.”

  “You sure about that?” I ask, an eyebrow cocked. “And I mean,” I look around, “you sure you want this? You and Millie, and all that. You wanna start a new path of this shit with her?”

  Raze seems to think over what I say, but then shrugs. “She knew what she was getting herself into when she agreed to marry me.”

  “Speaking of,” I lean forward to rest my elbows on my knees, “when is the big day?”

  Raze sneers. “Oh, no, brother. We ain’t talking ‘bout weddings. I got out of the house for that reason alone.” He pauses and then smiles. “But it’s not for a couple of years.” His face turns serious, almost offended. “Millie wants to take things slow for a bit. Reckon she wants to take me for a test drive before she makes the purchase.”

  Miles breaks out in laughter and I join him, shaking my head. “Damn, she hasn’t changed one bit.” Millie and I had a bit of a thing. Nothing like Ella and I, and I never touched her, but I would’ve and I ain’t ashamed to admit it. She was always beautiful, but when she dropped the fucking nun act and put on some eyeliner, she became a fucking vixen on a leash. But it was evident that she belonged to Raze, and hell, I would have fucked her once and gotten rid of her instantly. She doesn’t appeal to me the way Ella does.

  “She won’t change, that’s part the problem but also part the reason why I want to marry her.”

  Miles straightens his bow tie. “So, I’ll call in the cleaning squad? Or do you want to keep the corpse intact?”

  “I’ll call in to The Operation to let Charles know what’s happening. The last thing I want is someone around here sniffing it up and running snitch.”

  Miles nods. “Right, you do that, and I’ll take a look around to see if we can find anything.”

  Miles disappears into one of the bedrooms. I glance toward Raze who is on his phone. “You know Ikea is in bed with Snake.”

  Raze stops. His thumb halting over the screen of his phone. “Said who?”

  I threw my arms over the top of the sofa. “Chase let it slip.”

  “That fucker. I need words with him so try not to kill him.”

  Throwing my Devils Own “Nevada” patch back on, I toss my leg over my bike and skid out from under the parking of the Beehive, turning onto the busy Las Vegas streets. I can’t hide the smugness on my face. I’m finally out of that fucking hell hole. I can’t wait to see my fucking brothers and get back to what matters to me—my club.

  Parking
my bike out front of the clubhouse, I blaze up a smoke and head inside. “Fuckers better not have had too much fun without me!”

  “Ayyye!” Beast stands from the bar, with Hella, Hannibal, Racer—the new prospect who is pretty close to patching in—Flicker—one of the original patch members who hasn’t shipped out, and X—our newest patch member.

  Racer nudges his head, a twinkle in his fucking eye. “Nice to have you back, bro. Shelby and Layla have been back for a bit, too.” I take a seat after a round of greetings.

  “Oh, brother.” I grin, leaning back in my chair and nudge my head at Old Falla, ordering a beer. “You are way too fucking young to be dabbling in that pussy.”

  “You think?” Racer flicks a toothpick around in his mouth. “I don’t know…”

  “Brother, you are twenty-four years old, you were raised with a golden spoon in your mouth and wiped your ass with money. You’re a rich kid raised on the right side of the tracks, who just so happens to fit in here. Although—”I shoot a glare to Beast—“we have yet to talk about your special abilities, because everyone knows, Beast only lets in special recruits.”

  Racer’s smile went full effect. Cheeky fucker. “It could be that I’m the guy experienced in vortex pussy.”

  I laugh, throwing back my beer. “You’re all right, kid.” He is, he ain’t bad.

  “Church?” Beast throws me a look that says I want to know everything, and he will, because my loyalty will always be with my club.

  “Yep. Got a lot to fill you all in on.”

  Chapter 16

  “Jesus fucking Christ.” Beast leans back in his chair, just as his cell phone starts screaming from his pocket. “Yeah?” he answers.

  There’s a long pause, so I pull out another smoke. Blazing it up.

  “He just filled me in. All right.” Then he disconnects the call. “Raze has taken ownership of The Operation. Now he’s in full swing of The Army, The Underworld, and The Operation.”

  I shrug. “Figures. Can’t think of anyone else who is good enough for the job.”

  “Yeah, but Millie,” Hella mutters, shaking his head. “Pretty sure she’s gonna want out.”

  Beast catches my eye. “You over doing your nomad shit?”

  I grin, putting my smoke out in the ashtray. “I’m home, aren’t I?”

  Beast chuckles and leans back. “Touché.”

  “There’s something else.” I take out the little glass pipe that’s tucked in the pocket of my jeans. I toss it onto the table and watch as Beast’s eyes harden. I point. “The serum. Don’t ask how, ‘cuz I don’t know, and before you ask me if I’m going to find out how, I am also going to take this time to say no, but I got it from Ella.” The room goes quiet, and we all watch as Beast grabs it.

  “This the final shit?” Beast asks, staring at it. It’s as though memories are flashing through his eyes.

  I dip my head. “Yeah, brother. So she says.”

  “Does Raze know about it?”

  “No. Ella didn’t tell them either. Are you going to?”

  Beast pauses and seems to think over his next words. “Leave it to me.”

  “You gonna bin it, brother?”

  “Maybe,” he mutters, and then his eyes come to mine. “Or maybe not.”

  Later that night, I’m riding back to my house when I pull up to a stop at a red light. My bike rumbles beneath me and as I inhale the cool, familiar air, a sense of uneasiness leaches onto me, and I snap my head directly to the dark shadow standing on the corner near the lights. With a hoodie pulled over her head and her hands hidden in the pockets, I can make out the long strands of hair, but not the color, and a small petite frame. My eyes narrow as I try to get a glimpse of who it is, but her head angles, so I can’t see her face, only the outline of her jaw and all though she doesn’t look familiar from here, I can’t see her well enough to make that judgement. The light turns green and just as I’m about to gun it forward, she turns her back to me, the hood dropping around her neck to display her red hair, and she runs forward getting lost in the dark street. I rev my bike, then boost forward with the thoughts of hoodie girl wrapped up in my head.

  Pulling into my driveway, I shut off my bike. Fuck, it feels good to be home, much less back in my club. Being nomad was alright, but it defeats the purpose of belonging to a club. A brotherhood. I live close enough to the clubhouse, around a fifteen-minute drive once you hit the main road, and my house isn’t anything over the top, but it’s mine. I bought it with the first chunk of money I got from owning the strip joint Red Moon. Originally, the club owned it, but Meadow made Beast sell it asap once she found out he was tapping Shelby, the girl who manages all the girls. Shelby and Layla run it together now, and they might not know this, but I know all there is to know about the two of them. From their messed up past to what they do during the day. I’ll use it against them one day, but for now, they’re too useful.

  Anyway, my crib is a three-bedroom single story house. It has two big pillars at each side of the stepping entrance and a swing seat on the front porch. Admittedly, it looks like a family home. In a decent part of Vegas too, and my neighbors are about as normal as green folk, but it’s home to me, as fucked up as it might sound. Pushing open the door, I walk into the lounge, tossing my keys onto the coffee table and going straight for the fridge. All my appliances are stainless steel, and the kitchen was updated just before I moved in, with marble countertops and cupboards. Taking out a beer, I pop it open and head back into the sitting room that heads straight to my bedroom. Taking a seat, I lean back on my bed and think over the past fucking few weeks, and before that, since I’ve known Ella. Her ass better be at NYU.

  Chapter 17

  ELLA

  TWO WEEKS LATER

  “Yes, dear, I understand, but I can’t move your dorms, you will need to wait until next year. I’m so sorry.”

  “No, you’re not,” I grind out, snatching my class schedule from the reception desk and storming out of the administration office. I don’t have anything against Willow, but I was really hoping I could be in my own room. After leaving Frost and my brothers a couple weeks ago, I did as I promised, and came to NYU. The school had no idea I almost didn’t attend due to my family’s bullshit, so it was a good thing everything slipped into place at the very last minute.

  Walking through the dorms, I go to my first class of the day. Med school has always been a no-brainer for me. It’s something I’ve always thought I’d do if I wasn’t out killing people for my family. Okay, that’s not completely true, but it is something I feel I can excel in, and, it will help our family’s business just that much more, too.

  During lunch, I’m biting into my apple and reading up on the anatomy of the human brain, which is how I’ve been spending my lunch hours lately. Great. I was lucky I got into a track which offers me to graduate in three years with my Bachelor of Medicine instead of doing the whole seven yards, but that’s mainly because I have a 4.0 GPA. I’m more modest about my intelligence than my egotistical brothers, but I’m well aware what resides deep in my cranium and what I’m capable of.

  “Everything fucking hurts.” Willow takes a seat opposite me and massages her temple. Willow is my age, and to be honest, I don’t know much about her. She mainly keeps very quiet and to herself, but every now and then, she opens up a little. She’s here studying to be a psychiatrist.

  I giggle. “What’d you do last night?” Slamming my book closed, I put it on the table and give her my undivided attention.

  “This… paper. It’s insane.” Her fingers separate, and I see her eyes peering at me from between the cracks. “I’m not complaining,” she feigns innocence, both of her arms dropping to either side of her.

  “I wouldn’t judge if you were,” I answer, taking another bite. I haven’t prodded Willow about her life because I respect privacy. I figured she might tell me one day. Or not. Either way, I’m totally cool. I have way too much going on in my head anyway, I don’t know if I could offer a rental spot right
now for someone else’s issues.

  “That’s just it, though,” she whispers through her red cherry lips. “I need to because…” she pauses, chewing on her lip. She must decide against confiding in me anymore because her eyes quickly divert down at her hands which are on her lap. “Never mind.” She clears her throat, and my eyes narrow. I’ve been around enough people who hide shit to know that this girl has big skeletons she’s hiding. Hope it doesn’t come and bite her on the ass one day, ‘cuz skeleton bites fucking scar. Better to burn your skeletons than keep them in closets. It’s a more efficient way to forget your problems. Turn your skeletons to ash and then blow them away. Problem solved.

  “Sup,” Chase takes a seat beside me, pulling me under his arm.

  “Hey. Willow here was just saying how much she hates her psychology paper.”

  Chase chuckles, tossing a carrot stick into his mouth. “Can’t say I blame you.” I’ve tried getting Willow and Chase together more than once, but Chase isn’t feeling it and Willow either can’t see that I’m trying to hook her up or she’s very good at ignoring it. Either way, I’m not winning.

  “Hey, I was thinking of going to check out that new bar tonight, you know, since it’s Friday?” Chase adds, squeezing me with his arm.

  I shrug. It could be good having a night out since I haven’t been out once since I got here, and even before then, my nights out were very different from a college night out. “Sure!” I glance at Willow, who hasn’t touched her food. She should, she’s tiny. She must stand at five-foot-four, around one-hundred and thirty pounds, small little curves and long dyed red hair. I mean that hair is fire hydrant red. I’m guessing her natural hair color is brunette, judging by her eyebrows, but the color it is now, it suits her. She’s edgy looking and I like edgy girls.

  “Ah—Okay,” Willow nods. “Sure, what could possibly go wrong.” She shouldn’t say that, it’s like bad juju. Once someone says that line, it’s like mother nature peeks around the corner and is like “Yoohoo! Guess what can go wrong….” Evil bitch.