by A. M. Brooks
“If it wasn’t for Rhodes, we would have lost,” Kai announces, shaking his head and putting the laptop away.
“States, here we come!” Silas yells, his head thrown back. A few people who pass by laugh and cheer along with him.
“Yeah,” I answer, “Matt’s going to love this.” Matt likes control and keeping an eye on the situation. We were able to get this game on our home turf but that won’t work for a state championship game. We’ll be traveling to the city to keep surveillance.
“It’s going to be a long ass week,” Kai gripes. My sentiments exactly.
“She’s leaving.” Kai nods over my shoulder. I turn and watch as Princess gets in Winter’s car. I turn back to Kai and raise an eyebrow. A shit eating grin is already on his mouth, though.
“Wow,” he says.
“Shut up.” I shake my head, annoyed with myself that I can still see the car in my peripheral. “What’s the deal tonight? What are we fighting these punk ass kids about?”
“Uh huh,” Kai laughs, then clears his throat once Silas reaches us. “Ahh, tonight are those fools from Carson.”
“Are you serious?” Silas laughs and shakes his head.
“Didn’t we square them away already?” I question, running through the reports in my head.
“Oh, we did.” Kai grins wickedly. “They think they know better than us, though. Same jackass as last time. Thanks to those missing signs, we received that last shipment to the garage late and….Mama D did not get her chicken shipment in on time.”
“Messing with the damn chicken.” Silas shakes his head. I scoff.
“What’s fuckface’s name again?” I ask Kai. I only remember his face broken and bleeding from the damage Silas handed him. This guy is either an idiot, or he just enjoys being degraded in front of his boys.
“That would be Jaxson Matise,” Kai answers, before sliding his phone back in his pocket.
“What are we waiting for?” Silas asks, hopping into the cab. The crowd has dispersed by now, and the last bus is leaving.
Kai and I jump in as well, and I fire up the engine. We take the back roads until we get to the city limit lines. I roll the wheel right and onto the dirt path that takes us into a secluded area hidden by trees. It used to be a park but has since been abandoned. Cops don’t patrol this far out and wouldn’t interfere even if they did. When you work for Rogue, this is how we handle business.
A crowd has already formed by the time I pull up. A few cars face the lone slab of tar, where the old basketball court was, their lights fired up. A circle of spectators has formed to watch, and in the middle is Matise, bare chested, with his jeans hanging from his waist. The psycho smiles when he sees me approaching.
“I was hoping it would be you again, Jakobe,” he says, that smile growing wider while his eyes take on an almost dead look to them.
I look over my shoulder at Silas. His own face cracks before him and Kai almost fall into each other laughing. I shake my head.
“What’s his damage?” I ask Kai, who is currently trying to pull breath into his lungs.
“The sign was one hundred and seventy, our late shipment bill was one hundred and twenty-three dollars and eighty-five cents, and Mama D’s chicken set her back two hundred dollars roughly,” he answers, pulling out his phone to scan the details.
While Kai talks, Matise hops back and forth on the balls of his feet, jumping up and down like he’s preparing to get in a ring, which causes sweat to drip down his forehead. The manic look on his face never leaves. He’s proud of himself. I fight the urge to laugh. This isn’t fight club or a boxing arena. I blow a whistle out between my teeth.
“Yikes, man.” I walk unto the old court, dropping my jacket behind me. “That’s roughly five hundred dollars in damages that are owed.”
He laughs and his gang of goons behind him nod and shake their heads. I bet they think they have it made, that their ruler knows what he’s doing. Blind trust in the dumb is just that, though.
“You like pain, Matise, or do you just enjoy public humiliation?” I cock my head to the side, studying him. Arrogance pours off him. He has no idea I already know he’s using some type of substance, that he jumps lighter on his left leg that the right. Probably due to an old injury or broken bone, making it his weaker leg. Last time we met up, I broke a rib on his right side. That was less than six weeks ago, so there is no way, it’s healed already. A faint yellow bruise still dusts his skin. One of Matise’s buddies has already inched closer than the others, and his right hand is shoved inside his sweater pocket. Could be a weapon or keys if he’s the sober driver. The others’ eyes are glassy. They’ve definitely been drinking.
Matise spits on the ground between us. “You stalling, Jakobe?”
I grin, stepping closer, as the crowd starts to chant and cheer. My adrenaline kicks up, my body becoming hyperaware of the movement around me. Years of learning grappling and self-defense through martial arts, along with boxing stance and footwork, have been drilled into me by Matt and a few master combative trainers from the military. All in preparation for needing to defend myself and the hidden families, should the need arise. It also came in handy when dealing with scumbags who try to cause issue in my town. My fists come up, ready to punish, but not kill. We aren’t there yet. Matise swipes out, and my head jerks back. His eyes widen for the fraction of a second it takes me to jab at the vulnerable area he exposed to my fists. The first sting of losing skin on knuckles is satisfying. Matise hops back. Uncertainty crosses his features, before he lets out another unhinged laugh. He’s so messed up, even his brain can’t keep up to kick in his survival instincts. He lunges again, and my arm loops over his, pulling him forward, before slamming his body to the ground. I hear a snap, and he cries out. I don’t stop, though. My foot connects with the same broken rib as last time, before I disengage and walk back. Fucker is slower to get up this time, but he does. A few of his friends behind him are starting to look worried. Of course, the crowd is only getting louder. Someone fired up their sound system, and Brantley Gilbert’s “Take It Outside” blares from the speakers. I advance first, threatening, causing him to react by racing toward me. My feet are lifted from the floor, before my back hits the ground, exactly how I want it to. I lock my legs around his back, forcing his arms to brace, leaving his face open. I get three good hits in, before he yanks himself out of my grasp and stumbles backward. I surge forward, tackling him to the ground, delivering punch after punch, until the twisted smile on his face is gone, and fear flashes in his eyes. He tries to crawl away from me, but I stop him, pressing my heavy combat boot on his ankle. He howls in pain. Two of his friends advance toward him but are stopped short by Kai and Silas.
“Done already, Matise?” I grin, taking in his swollen eye and split lip. Blood gushes from his mouth where a tooth is now missing. Red splotches cover his abdomen and sides. He’ll be nice and purple tomorrow. “Here’s the deal.” I lift my head to address his buddies, too. “Hand over the five hundred, don’t step foot in Savage Lakes again, and I won’t bust his leg. I heard you have scholarship to the U for track, right?” I peer back down at the idiot in front of me and don’t miss the way he turns paler at my words.
“How did you--” He starts to ask, but I cut him off.
“I don’t miss anything, Matise. You fuck with my town and your whole life becomes my business. You pull this shit again, and I’ll follow you to your town. You won’t be able to walk away if that happens,” I warn, adding more pressure to his ankle. One more push and his Achilles will snap.
“Okay, okay, okay,” he starts to panic, finally starting to figure out the danger he’s in. The darkness inside me takes satisfaction at the wet spot forming on the front of his jeans. I step off his foot and kick his leg out of the way.
He shouts in pain and cradles his leg. The crowd erupts in cheers, mocking these idiots. Silas and Kai step aside, letting Matise’s friends haul him up. They start pulling him back to their cars. I bend down and swipe my jacket from
the ground where I left it.
“Get it?” I ask Kai, who nods, holding out five crisp hundred dollar bills.
“Fucking cake eaters,” Silas mocks next to me. I check out the crowd around us. Another win under the belt, and now, it’s turned into a party. A few spectators are tilting back bottles and flasks. Some of the girls start dancing in the circle. A quick flash of purple hidden by a black hoodie catches my eye, sending a current of energy through my bloodstream, while she hurries away with another figure camouflaged in black. Fucking Winter. My fingers flex and burn from the open and bleeding gashes across the knuckles. I’ll take care of it when I get home, I decide. Thankfully, neither Kai nor Silas seem to have noticed her. My jaw clenches, thinking about Saylor. I knew before the fight started, and I didn’t make her leave like I should have. Something about her calls to me, and it pisses me off. I’m glad she knows now how we handle business here.
“Drink?” Silas offers me a flask that was handed to him, and I shake my head.
“Driving, you dick,” I respond.
“Oh yeah.” He tilts back for one more drink, before handing it to Kai who also takes a pull. I plop down on my tailgate and relax while they enjoy the party. My mind swirls with ways to punish the demon princess for stepping out of line. She shouldn’t have been here or seen what she did. My chest thrums with energy, remembering the way her raspberry pink lips slam together when she thinks she’s being defiant. My knee bounces with renewed energy to get home. Things are about to get really interesting.
Saylor
My body is wound tightly after being out all night and witnessing what I did. After the game, Winter was adamant I see something that would help explain the control Kai, Silas and Ciaran have on the town. She drove us to a clearing in the woods, almost out of town, and parked away from the other cars. We waited until the guys showed up, before moving closer to the crowd. The minute I spotted Ciaran step onto the old basketball court, I could read the tension in his muscles. His opponent never stood a chance. I watched in fascination while the guy turned pale from whatever Ciaran was saying to him. Then it was over. Winter explained that the guy, Jaxson Matise, and his friends had stolen some road signs in town, which caused some financial and business issues for the city and, most importantly, Rogue’s Car Repairs. Matt’s business. She also said this wasn’t the first time that Ciaran has had to deal with Jaxson.
When it was over, we sprinted back to the car and took off. Everyone else who was there were Rogue employees. We could get in trouble for being here and breaking Ciaran’s rule to stay under the radar and out of his way. I wasn’t clueless, though. I had felt the searing heat on my retreating back. He knew I had been there. Nervous energy had coiled around my muscles the minute I stepped through the front door. I’m on edge, wondering when Ciaran will get back. Frustrated with myself and my feelings, I crank up my music and bounce around my room, throwing moves I haven’t practiced in weeks. It doesn’t take long for sweat to coat my skin and my damp hair to cling to my neck. At least the nerves have settled. In all this time, Ciaran hasn’t come home, which is a good sign. I decide to take a shower, needing the hot water to ease the rest of the tension out of my now sore muscles.
Once I’m clean and feeling more relaxed, I turn the water off and wrap a towel around my body. The florescent light hums and the mirror has fogged up. The rest of the house remains quiet, though. Quickly, I brush my teeth and rinse with mouthwash, while towel drying my hair the best I can, before running my brush through it.
The hallway is dark when I step into it, taking long strides to reach my door. Unease trickles down my spine, creating goosebumps across my flesh. Twisting the knob, I cross the threshold and smack right into the solid wall of flesh waiting inside. The material on his jacket feels rough against my bare skin. Ciaran steps closer, until my back hits the cool surface of the door, sending another round of shivers over my body. Slowly, I lift my gaze to his. Black pupils expand in the crystal blue irises, and his eyebrows lower, while he scans me from head to toe, before bringing his eyes back to mine. I hug the towel tighter to my body. A calculating smirk forms over his puffy lips, and my stomach tightens in response.
“What are the rules, Princess?” Ciaran asks, leaning into me, folding one arm over the other. I notice his knuckles are caked with dried blood. His fingers graze across his bottom lip, contemplating and waiting. I’m so distracted by the small gesture that it takes my mind a few minutes to catch up with what he’s saying.
“I don’t follow your rules, Ciaran,” I answer, challenging him. “I stayed under the radar at the game and didn’t cause any problems.”
“You shouldn’t have been there,” he growls, moving in closer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie and push off the door to move around him. Ciaran’s arm shoots out, blocking me in. I turn back to face him, forcing my body to relax, and put a bored expression on my face to mask my real emotions.
“Don’t lie, Say.” Ciaran dips down, his voice gravely, and heat coils low in my stomach. My name on his lips keeps me locked in. If I moved my head, even a little, my lips would rub against his. For some reason, that thought makes my chest ache with excitement. My stomach clenches in response. Our eyes lock. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, unsure what he wants me to say. I want him to say my name again. My body is his hostage, hovering and waiting for him to make a move or at least put me out of my misery with cruel words. Having all of Ciaran’s attention is almost more painful than being ignored, because when he takes it away again, the loneliness may swallow me whole.
Ciaran’s gaze drops to my lip that is gripped between my teeth. His shoulders tense, as if he’s fighting an internal battle of his own. Just like me. My heart races to the point I’m positive he can see my pulse throb against my skin. Words hover on my tongue, until the front door slams shut downstairs. Startled, my eyes flash up to Ciaran’s in panic. He steps back and holds a finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet. We listen as booted feet walk to the kitchen. Bottles clang in the fridge, and my heart finally comes to a rest, realizing it’s Matt. A cupboard opens and closes, before he walks toward the door that leads to the basement. Only when the door clicks shut, am I finally able to release the breath I’ve been holding.
“Get out,” I demand of Ciaran, while I move away from the door, heading deeper into my room. Having some space between us allows air back into my lungs and my thoughts to get control of themselves. I wanted to kiss Ciaran. I wanted his eyes on me and that is not something that can happen. Without another word or glance, he exits my room, barely making a noise when he slips out the door and down the hall to his own room. It’s creepy how he moves almost ghostlike.
My legs shake with adrenaline while I throw on some sleep shorts and a t-shirt, before crawling under my covers. The whole day flashes through my mind in a series of pictures and clips. Even when I attempt to distract myself, I’m caught up in the past few minutes. My eyes slam shut, as if that will make the mental images go away. Even behind my eyelids, molten blue irises burn into me. Once again, I wish Oaklynn was with me. Where I am fire and easily pushed to anxiety, she is calm and cool. She would know how to navigate this world where I feel like I’m floundering.
Nothing changes over the next few weeks. Thanksgiving came and went. I had no contact with my family over the holiday and an ugly ball of resentment started forming in the pit of my stomach. There is still no news about my dad, and our family’s disappearance from New York has still not made the news. My hate for him festers and bleeds all over my life. Ciaran has gone back to ignoring me, for the most part. When he isn’t bossing me around to stay in line. Matt remains oblivious to the tension between his nephew and me.
We are a few weeks into December, and I’m dreading the week long break over Christmas. Thinking of spending another holiday without my mom and Mila is enough to make my eyes sting with unshed tears. Tears, I have become really good at faking don’t exist. The only small escape I have from my
reality is school. Winter and I grow closer over our love of dance videos and pizza. She also likes photography like me, and her dream is to go to college at the University of Minnesota and get her degree in journalism. The girl is an adrenaline junkie who is looking forward to traveling to exotic or hostile environments to take pictures. I’m in awe of her and at the same time jealous. I no longer have any control over my future and that is a tough pill to swallow.
Winter does her best to shake me out of my bad thoughts. She promises parties and ice skating over the holiday break. Sure enough, two feet of snow have been dumped on the town in the past few weeks, and the temps have fallen drastically, some days barely making it to double digits.
“I’m telling ya, Cassidy is a horrible human being, but she throws the best New Year’s Eve parties. We have to go.” Winter is on a roll again, lips and hands moving a mile a minute while I stand next to her, putting my books in my locker.
“I’m not against going,” I remind her.
“You just look like you have period cramps anytime I mention it,” she points out. My eyes flick over to Cassidy and the others. Her arm is wrapped around Bentley’s, even while he keeps his body angled away from her. “Oh my god, are you, like, into Bentley?”
“No,” I almost snap, looking around to make sure no one is paying attention. “She thinks I am, though. I don’t want it to be awkward or have there be any drama if I show up at her party.”
“Oh,” Winter flips her hair over her shoulder, “I wouldn’t worry about it. As long as you don’t go dancing up on him, she should be fine.”
