The Elite Kings Boxset Vol. II

by Amo Jones

  He blows out a cloud of smoke. “At least that’s one of us.” He narrows his eyes at me.

  I frown. “You still hate me?”

  His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “No, fuck.” His eyes dart around the place. “It’s just—never mind. But I don’t hate you. I feel peace with you now.” Then he smiles. The first time I have ever seen Brantley smile, and it’s at me. I want to jump on him and hug him, but that’s probably going too fast for him. Baby steps.

  Turning back around, wrapping my arms around Bishop, I look over his shoulder, directly at Hunter and Jase. My brothers. Biological brothers with Daemon.

  Hunter steps backward, shaking his head and walking straight toward the parked car, slamming the door behind him. I frown, my shoulders dropping. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t for Hunter to act like that. He’s always been warm toward me.

  Jase just stares at me, his dark eyes glued to mine. The last string in my heart is about to snap when he smiles at me. Giving me a wink. For the older brother, that surprises me. I haven’t spent much time with Jase, if any, but I know in that moment that will change.

  Bishop tucks me under his arm as the rest of the boys walk back to the cars. He looks at his dad. “Want me to call Katsia about this mess, or do you want to?” he asks his dad, nudging his head toward the destruction on the road.

  Hector looks at me and then looks at Bishop. “I’ll call her.” Then he looks to me. “There was a reason for my bringing you here tonight, and it wasn’t that.”

  I sink into Bishop, and his grip tightens around me. “Though, I did plan to tell you that you’re adopted.” He looks to Bishop. “But you see, as much as I love my son, he did something bad tonight. Something that is against our rules. And we only have one rule, Madison.” Hector looks right at me, and chills break out over my flesh. “So now that your adoption is exposed, I guess it’s only fair I find something else to tell you since my son is so trigger happy tonight.”

  I look up at Bishop. Trigger happy?

  Hector steps forward, pushing his hands into his pockets. “I’m sure you’re familiar with the initiation process of a King?” he questions, looking at me. I nod. “Very good. So you know…” He gestures behind him, and Khales reemerges from the shadows. Bishop freezes, his grip turning to steel. “…that Khales was Bishop’s…” My head spins and my stomach recoils. Someone else steps out of the shadows. “…as was your adopted ‘mother.’”

  The End

  I just want to thank everyone who has helped contribute to not only my stories, but to my sanity. Don’t all laugh at once!

  First of all, my children and partner. They’re my rock, my home, my loves, and my most favorite people walking this earth. Everything I do, I do for them.

  I want to thank my family who continues to support me.

  Isis! My best bitch. Somewhere between a sister and a soul mate. You’ve been my #1 supporter, counselor, therapist, just basically my all-around PERSON. You’re my person.

  My Wolf Pack! You girls keep me going even on my darkest of days. You make me smile when I want to frown­—this is getting soppy… oh look! The D…

  My betas, thank you for reading my unedited words. Truly, you probably deserve a medal or something.

  Kayla for editing my words! The girls from Give Me Books for handling all my promo, Jay Aheer for always getting my covers on point. And Champagne Formatting for making the words all laid out nicely.

  Thank you to my author buds who always keep it real! Nina Levine, River Savage, Chantal Fernando for the epic sprint sessions and our meme shares, Leigh Shen, Anne Malcom, Addison Jane. You girls are rad, got mad love for all of you.

  Desperado—Rihanna

  Adore—Amy Shark

  Hail to the King—Avenged Sevenfold

  B.Y.O.B.—System Of A Down

  Toxicity—System Of A Down

  Talking Body—Tove Lo

  Hey Baby (Drop It To the Floor)—Pitbull, T-Pain

  Bad At Love—Halsey

  My Life—50 Cent, Eminem, Adam Levine

  Everything, Everyday, Everywhere—Fabolous, Keri Hilson

  F**kin’ Problems—A$AP Rocky, Drake, 2 Chainz, Kendrick Lamar

  Familiar Taste Of Poison—Halestorm

  Tourniquet—Evanescence

  Touch It—Monifah

  #icanteven—The Neighbourhood, French Montana

  Nice & Slow—Usher

  Last Night—Keyshia Cole, Diddy

  Slow Jamz (feat. Kanye West & Jamie Foxx)—Twista, Jamie Foxx, Kanye West

  I’m Sprung - Trick Daddy & YoungBloodz Remix—T-Pain

  Wonderful—Ja Rule, R. Kelly, Ashanti

  My Boo—Usher, Alicia Keys

  Everyone Nose (All The Girls Standing In The Line For The Bathroom)—N.E.R.D

  Climax—Usher

  Crawl—Breaking Benjamin

  Hate That I Love You—Rihanna, Ne-Yo

  Bonnie and Clyde—DJ Hit-Man

  Right Now (Na Na Na)—Akon

  A Place For My Head—Linkin Park

  Look In My Eyes—Rains

  I Fucking Hate You—Godsmack

  Pray For Me (with Kendrick Lamar)—The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar

  Behind Blue Eyes—Limp Bizkit

  Kiss Me Thru The Phone—Soulja Boy, Sammie

  Light Up Light Up—Baby Bash, Z-Ro, Berner, Baby E

  Move to L.A.—Tyga, Ty Dolla $ign

  Sex With Me—Rihanna

  It’s A Vibe—2 Chainz, Ty Dolla $ign, Trey Songz, Jhene Aiko

  Bad Mother F*cker—Machine Gun Kelly, Kid Rock

  Water—Jack Garratt

  Get Dough—Dead Obies

  Something I Don’t Know—Miras

  wRoNg—ZAYN, Kehlani

  Bad Intentions—Niykee Heaton, Migos, OG Parker

  Lullaby—Niykee Heaton

  I’m Ready—Niykee Heaton

  Zombie—Bad Wolves

  Hero—Skillet

  Torn to Pieces—Pop Evil

  Your Betrayal—Bullet For My Valentine

  Stupid Love—Jason Derulo

  Addicted—Saving Abel

  I’m Not An Angel—Halestorm

  Infinity—Niykee Heaton

  Ghetto Flower—J.Williams

  I Was Never There—The Weeknd, Gesaffelstein

  Hurt You—The Weeknd, Gesaffelstein

  The Other—Lauv

  Believer - Live/Acoustic—Imagine Dragons

  Believer—Imagine Dragons

  Call Out My Name—The Weeknd

  Innocence—Halestorm

  Whoring Streets—Scars On Broadway

  To Amy:

  You are woman.

  You are power.

  You will understand this after you’ve read this book.

  We love you, girl, and we got you.

  #FuckCancer

  The Broken Puppet

  “No!” I scream, dropping to the ground. Shaking my head, I clutch my hair and pull at it, wanting to scratch the memories out of my head.

  “Madison!” Who is that? It sounds like Bishop. “Brantley—”

  Looking toward the bed, I swallowed, slowly stepping into the room. It was a big room. Gigantic. It was dim, almost dark in the room, and there was a big bed sitting to the side. I looked closer, stepping toward the bed, my heart beating in my chest and my throat clogged. All the lights were dim, but there was one shining on the bed. Only when I got closer, I saw it was a camera sitting on a stand with a light pointing toward the mattress.

  My eyebrows pulled together. “Wha—”

  “Go to the bed, Silver.” That voice. I hated that voice. I felt sick, my tummy not feeling good. Something was wrong, like it was always wrong when he was around. I hated him, but I obeyed because that was what I’d been told to do. I had to listen to adults; they always knew best. But why did he make me feel dirty? No other adult made me feel dirty. He made me sad, hurt, and angry all at once. I was confused, I think.

  Walking toward the bed, I stopped at the
foot of it. There was a small boy curled up on top of the covers, but he was wearing no clothes. Why was he wearing no clothes? He must’ve been cold.

  “Silver, on the bed!” Lucan raised his voice at me, and I flinched, quickly crawling onto the soft mattress.

  “Hi,” I whispered to the boy who was crying. “What’s wrong?” I asked, wanting to know why he was so sad. Did he feel like I did? Did Lucan make him feel the same way I felt?

  The boy sobbed then buried his head into the blanket. “Go away!” he yelled as he continued to cry. He was angry and sad, so maybe he did feel the same way as I did.

  I stopped, sitting on the mattress as Lucan loosened his tie and pointed the camera at us. “Silver, take your clothes off.”

  “No!” I scream, sweat oozing out of my flesh. “Leave me alone. My name isn’t Silver! It’s Madison! Madison Montgomery! I’m not Silver!” I rock back and forth on the gravel road, trying to pull myself out of the memory.

  “I—what about the boy?”

  Lucan looked toward the boy on the bed, his lip curled. “Brantley, make room for Silver.”

  My eyes pop open and I shoot off the road, ignoring the tiny stones that are embedded into my flesh. “Brantley!” I scream.

  Brantley turns to face me, a blank look pulling over his features.

  I turn pale, all blood leaving my body. The pain, the anger, the sadness, it’s all been cracked open again, and suddenly I’m that scared little girl again.

  “What the fuck are they talking about?” Hector booms, losing his cool slightly. “And what the fuck just happened there, Madison?”

  Headlights light up the cabin, but I ignore them. I ignore everything.

  And suddenly, rage. Pure rage electrifies me like a rush of adrenaline. Squaring my shoulders, I finally look directly at Lucan, the man who abused me as a child. The man my parents trusted. The man I thought I could trust. The man who made me keep secrets by using his “I’m an adult” card on me.

  The man I want to kill.

  “You!” I seethe.

  His eyes join with mine, and he still looks the same, only older. So much older. His head is bald now, his face free of hair, but his eyes. His eyes will forever be the trigger to that feeling. That same feeling I felt when I was a little girl starts slowly slipping into me, but I fight it. I’m not her anymore. I’m older. More experienced. And though I may feel this pain for the coming months after being face-to-face with him, I know whatever I do it will be worth it. Car doors close in the distance behind me, but again, I ignore it. I ignore everything because my focus is solely on Lucan. Everything in my peripheral is closed.

  I can hear people, or someone, walking toward us behind me, their feet crunching against the gravel, but I ignore it.

  He chuckles. “Ain’t no one gonna believe you, Silver.”

  The footsteps stop.

  Ice cold wind whips my hair across my face, and that’s when I know. I know those footsteps belong to Bishop and the Kings.

  Lucan lunges at me, gripping my hair and pulling my back up against his front. It happens so fast I barely blink, but when I do, I see them. With my back pressed against Lucan’s front, his gun pressing against my temple, I look pleadingly right at Bishop, but he’s not looking at me. His shoulders are rising and falling in anger, his eyes zoned directly in on Lucan.

  “What the fuck is going on here, son?” Hector asks calmly, not fazed I’m about to get my brains blown out everywhere. My heart pounds in my chest, and goose bumps prickle all over my flesh as fear ripples through me. No. There’s no way. I didn’t survive through all the memories, all the suppressed bullshit, only to go out by his hands. His hands already took so much from me; I won’t let them take my life too.

  Bishop steps forward, his lip curled and his eyes black. So black. I’ve not seen this look before; this is feral. Casting a look over his shoulder, Nate is there, the same position, his knuckles cracking. He starts jumping in his spot, cracking his neck as if he’s ready to fight. Which I have no doubt he is. The rest of the boys are there too, ready to throw down if they need to. Whether they know the story or not, I see it right there. Their loyalty to Bishop. It’s unquestionable. This is The Elite Kings in full form.

  “Ah!” Lucan presses the gun into my temple more. “Don’t fucking move. Now, since people will be dying tonight, I want to get a few things out there for Silver so she knows the deal.”

  “Don’t call me that,” I hiss, my lip slightly curling.

  “Hey, I’m doing you a favor.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He laughs, his breath falling over my neck. I can’t hide the disgust; I dry heave, ready to spill my guts all over the road.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Hector asks again.

  Where is Brantley? This was all a setup. He and Khales are nowhere to be seen. I look around again, as much as I can from the position I’m in, and sure enough, they’re both not where they were a few minutes ago.

  Hate.

  “First, let me start with this. Silver, do you know much about the last names of these boys here?”

  What?

  “The hell has that got to do with you and what you did to me all those years ago?”

  “I’ll get to that part.” He grins. I can hear it in his sick voice how much he’s getting out of this, and that’s the thing about age. The tone of your voice is one of the last things to change. Therefore, Lucan still has the same voice.

  “What are you doing, Lucan?” Hector warns. His tone should be enough to put the fear of God into Lucan, but it doesn’t, because he continues.

  “Hector and Bishop Hayes… Hayes meaning ‘The Devil,’” he starts, and just as I open my mouth to ask another question, his hand slams over it, pausing me. “Everyone shut the fuck up and let me finish, or I swear to God I will shoot her.”

  He clears his throat, before smugly murmuring, “Now, where was I? Oh yes, the names. Lucan and Brantley Vitiosus. I’ll get to the meanings of the names and the English translations when I’ve finished.” He laughs. Then his lips skim over my earlobe before he whispers, “And you know how theatrical I can get, don’t ya, Silver?”

  The first teardrops, followed by anger. Rage.

  He continues, “Max, Saint, and Cash Ditio. Phoenix and Chase Divitae. Raguel, Ace, and Eli Rebellis.” He laughs at these last two. My eyes shoot toward Nate, who is now being held back by Chase and Cash. He looks absolutely feral. The lack of light and smudged tears in my eyes make it hard to view, but even if I couldn’t see it, I could sure as fuck feel it.

  Lucan carries on. “Nate Malum-Riverside.” Then he laughs, bringing his lips to my ear again.

  I shut my eyes, fighting the bile that’s about to spew out of my mouth from not just his proximity, but his touch. “Johan, Hunter, Jase, and Madison Venari.”

  I freeze. All life drains from my face.

  “You hear that, Silver? You’re adopted… you and that schizo brother of yours.”

  What? More tears spill out of my eyes. This can’t be true. There’s no way. He’s fucking with me. My dad is my dad and my mom was my mom. Lucan is being what he is.

  I look at Bishop, who is finally looking directly at me, and I see it. The look. It’s the look he gives me when it’s just us together. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are zeroed into mine.

  Not only is it true, but he knew.

  Sobs wrack through my body, and my knees buckle, but Lucan yanks me back up. “Careful, careful… maybe you can talk with your man here about the meanings of those last names and what they mean in regards to each family’s duty in the Kings, but let me tell you this, Silver,” he whispers so harshly into my ear. “When you know all there is to know about this—they will kill you.”

  I don’t care.

  I’m adopted. My whole life was a lie. I was wrong. I can’t trust anyone. I can only trust Daemon. Daemon. His face lights up inside my head, but instead of it soothing me, it brings on another set of tears.

  “So I’l
l make this easier for you and tell you the big firework kicker!” he yells, laughing hysterically. Leaning down, I pause, my heavy breathing the only thing breaking the silence.

  “You—”

  A gun fires and Lucan screams, his hand loosening from around my mouth as he falls to the ground.

  I freeze, static buzzing in my ears from the gunshot.

  Pain.

  Anger.

  Rage.

  Rage.

  Rage.

  Heat rises inside of me as I think over everything. His touch when I was a kid. What he made me do to Brantley. And what he made Brantley do to me as a kid.

  “Stop!” I scream, my eyes unblinking and fixed on the car in front of me.

  Silence.

  I slowly turn around, noticing Bishop is beside me, kneeling down next to Lucan, who is bleeding out on the road.

  I look at Lucan, tilting my head. Smiling, I whisper, “Seeing you in pain soothes my anger.”

  Lucan looks at me square in the eye. “I will live in your memories, Silver. Forever.”

  Squaring my jaw, I bend down to Bishop’s level, bringing my hand to his boot. I feel up toward where I know he keeps a knife. I feel him freeze, realizing what I’m about to do, but before he can stop me—if he was going to stop me—I unclip the holster and pull out the large hunting knife and slowly raise it into the air. Lucan’s eyes follow it slowly.

  “You see this?” I run my pointer finger down the blunt side of the knife. “It’s a Fallkniven A1Pro Survival Knife.” I smirk, admiring how the boys—except for Bishop, he’s still crouching beside me—watch me with awe, or fear, or a combination of both, and are all standing behind me. They have my back—but I won’t need it. I launch the knife into Lucan’s pelvis area until I feel his bones crunching against the blade. He screams out, a loud, curdling scream, his back arching and tears pouring down his face.