by D. M. Burns
“What kind of car is this anyway?” I ask.
“It’s a Koenigsegg Jesko Absolut.” He arches his brow as if to say you wanted to know, now what? I give him a clueless blink. “Google it and get back to me. Yeah?” He chuckles.
“Are you going to tell me where we're going?”
“It’s fight night at Club Chaos. I’m a VIP member and I’m not in town often so I wanted to attend.” He deadpans.
“No… As a matter of fact, HELL NO. Crellan, you know that Slade and his brothers as well as Rage own that place. So, no. Take me back to the blood-splattered manufacturing mansion.” The tone of my voice is scary and also rising.
“The blood-splattered, what?” He laughs out loud. It’s a rarity and if I weren’t pissed, I’d take the time to appreciate it.
I feel my body temperature rising as I glare at him. The splotches are covering my neck and face at an exponential rate. I cross my arms over my chest shaking my head in irritation.
“Listen, Haze, I’ve not seen Slade in over a week, and you want me to just walk into their fight club hanging off your arm? Are you crazy?” My voice is a high-pitched screech now.
“One; you agreed to accompany me as long as it wasn’t Aces Down, it’s not. Two; I’m not looking to get lucky. However, I’m not opposed to that if you were to change your mind.” I whip my head around and flip him off with my un-ladylike finger that’s sporting a red coat of coloring. He gives me another side smirk. “Listen, I merely want to enjoy a nice bottle of wine and watch the fight. I’m not breaking your conditions and I expect you to hold up to your end of the deal. You’re only as good as your word, Red.”
“Don’t call me that.” I slap him on the arm with my clutch and he chuckles. “I have no problem hanging onto the door of this Absolute Kego, whatever in the hell you called this contraction, for dear life. You can’t make me do this to him, Crellan.”
“Red, I really hope you do just that. I have NO PROBLEM with carrying you in kicking and screaming if I must. We’re going to enjoy this fight in the exclusive VIP area come hell or high water. You’re probably overreacting. Rampage never leaves Aces anyway.”
“Fine… Fine… Whatever.” I fling my arms around in exasperation. “You know damn good and well that you roped me into this on a technicality. Half honesties or lack of full disclosure is still lying. Shady bullshit.” I say as he pulls up to the valet.
“Similar to the half-truths that you neglected to disclose to Rampage, hum?” He mumbles.
“I heard that.” I snap.
“Meant for you too.” He mumbles again.
He rolls his white sleeves back down into place and reaches behind him grabbing his coat then steps out of the car. He shakes his head wordlessly at the man that attempts to approach my door while tossing his used-up toothpick out on the pavement. It’s a silent fuck off as he fixes his coat. His eyes survey the surroundings while he rounds the front of the car and opens my door offering his hand to me. I snub his outstretched hand and exit on my own.
As we pass the wide-eyed boy staring at me, Crellan growls, “Eyes on the prize; that being the car-not her because if you scratch it, you die.” The boy’s eyes snap back to Crellan and he simply nods his head not knowing how true those words probably are. Crellan places his large hand at the base of my back and I slap it away glaring daggers at him.
Once we step through the doors, I focus my eyes on the floor letting my hair fan out around my face. I hope like all hell that my veil of red fur disguises my identity. Which is a laughable notion because my strawberry hair is my unique calling card similar to Bozo the Clown. Shit.
“Like that would work.” Crellan’s voice crawls over my skin as he leans in to whisper those words at the shell of my ear. “You’re a god damn goddess tonight. Hold your head up and own it, Red.” He plucks another toothpick in his mouth on a chuckle.
“Stop calling me that.” I hiss. He cups my elbow and leads me to a private set of elevators and as he punches a button to go up, Rebel steps in. For shit sakes.
“You must’ve missed me, huh?” Rebel deadpans while staring straight at Crellan.
Crellan’s jaw twitches while he twirls that toothpick around with his tongue. His hand unconsciously slides over the outside of his coat where I know one of his guns are strapped. Rebel’s haunting view doesn’t miss the act. If I’m not mistaken, I spot some red-eyed dementors peeking out from behind Reb’s glassy glaze encouraging Crellan on, daring the deed.
What the ever-loving hell is going on between these two men? Rebel’s eyes switch over to me doing a slow head to toe scan of my body. It’s not in appreciation, no. It’s his blatant disapproval of me being here with Crellan.
“Swear to Christ…” Crellan growls. “Demented little fucker.” Rebel chuckles.
“You look beautiful, Lena.” Rebel winks at me but I can feel the judgment clogging up the tight space within the tin box.
“Thank you, Reb,” I watch the numbers light up on the panel then the doors slide open freeing me from this awkward hell.
“See ya soon, beautiful,” Rebel says.
“Bye Reb,” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“Crazy fuck,” Crellan grunts out.
Crellan wraps his free arm around my waist fitting me into his side but never drops his hand hugging the outline of his gun. Rebel’s multicolored green globes look down at his show of unwanted PDA than they slowly slide back up until they collide with mine. Crellan leads me out and down the hallway to his VIP accommodations.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
Crellan simply remains quiet and shakes his head indicating that he’s done with sharing for the night. Sadly, I’m okay with that because something tells me I don’t want to know.
When Crellan’s phone rings, he looks at the screen then gives me a chin lift motioning his head toward the door. I wave him off indicating that I don’t need a babysitter.
My eyes are still glued to the tinted windowed wall as Rage circle’s the cage in victory. He’s one brutal bastard when using his fists. The guy on the mat is out cold and the delivery was executed effortlessly by Rage. There’s no question about it that Rage is the ringleader of cruel Chaos. The cage is his element and two minutes in, Rage’s opponent was down for the count.
Rage’s features soften by a fraction and I follow his line of sight to see Reese, Asia, and Alex all in the front row. Rage gives her a half-smirk while she blows him a kiss and claps enthusiastically. Renegade pulls Asia into his side and Rebel whisper’s something in Alex’s ear causing her to giggle. It’s a family dynamic that I long to be a part of.
Then my eyes scan over to the aisle just beyond the Chaos family and capture him with her in their approach. The sight automatically burns like acid being poured down the back of my throat coating the lining of my stomach. I think I might throw-up. My hands involuntarily start to shake, and I clasp them together. I can feel my skin break out in a clammy sheen of sweat. I asked for that, this. Shit.
Slade’s impeccable but fight night casual business attire is sinfully sexy. The top two buttons of his black business shirt are open giving me a teasing preview of what I know lies underneath the material. His onyx black hair is slicked back and meticulously in place. It’s his go-to signature style.
Latched to his arm is one of those Insta-whores that’s perfect from top to toe. She’s a beautiful blonde with a royal blue shimmering skintight dress and matching shoes. I automatically hate her for no damn good reason other than she’s hanging off the arm of the man attached to my yeti dick. I don’t have enough good in me not to hate her. That being the bigger person shit is overrated anyway.
In my hellfire panic, I vaguely hear the VIP door softly open and click shut behind me. I look back to see Crellan crossing the room to the open bar. My eyes return to the window where the busted-up fighters training crew is trying unsuccessfully to get their fallen fighter to his feet. My eyes zero in on Slade as he whispers something to Rebel then he claps h
im on the back and places his hand at the blondes lower back leading her back the way they came in.
Standing, I move over to the bar where Crellan is fixing himself a drink and those dark eyes land on mine. His head lifts from the drink he’s occupied with and his brows crease as he studies me intently. I wonder if he can see the evident pain that I’m trying to disguise from having my heart hit with that invisible sledgehammer. I fake smile my ass off and he quirks his lonesome eyebrow at me then reluctantly returns his attention back to the task of fixing his beverage.
“He was always an angry guy back in school.” I throw my thumb over my shoulder and give a shaky fake laugh with no humor. Crellan simply nods his agreement.
“Would you like another glass of wine?” He asks.
“Nah, I’m going to go say hi to the girls since I’m sure Rebel told them I was here.” He quirks that same eyebrow at me again. Plus, I’m going to check out the bitch on Slade’s arm. You know, torture myself a little. Why not? “It’s rude if not. Anyway, I like those crazy Chaos ladies.” He checks his watch.
“I’ll come with you.” He says.
“Uhm, nope. I don’t need your brooding badass self to escort me. I’m grown. Not to mention, you and Rebel are likely to gut each other. That’s something I don’t want to be the cause of. I’m not going to pretend to know what’s going on with you guys but I’m not going to be responsible for a shootout.” I nod my head to his evident bulge under his coat. “You two need distance.” He chuckles.
“If you’re not back in twenty minutes, I’ll come find you.” He mumbles as I step out into the hallway. I’ll kick his ass if he tries to pull any daddy bullshit on me like Slade did a few months back at the Royal Diamond Club party. I’m still feeling a certain type of way about that. It was embarrassing.
When I exit the elevator, I cut back to the left and head in the direction of where a couple told me I could find the fighters post-fight. I must be in the right spot because I see a set of two huge ass bouncers standing guard. They both have on skintight black tees with red labeled letters scrawled out that read Chaos Crew Security over their bulking chest and earpieces packed in their ears.
The bald Dewayne Johnson look-a-like is staring at me like I’m his next yeti dick adventure while the older but buff military cut drill sergeant seems unimpressed with my approach. I guess their use to dealing with a bunch of aggravating fangirls trying to get access to the fighter’s locker room on a regular. Then again, my decorous attire clashes with the rest of the crowd down here. They probably believe I merely got lost on my way back to the famed side of the fight club facility.
“Uhm, hi.” I smile wide as I close in and the Rock remake smiles back.
“There’s no one allowed past this point, ma’am.” The drill sergeant deadpans.
“Sure… But I’m a family friend and if it’s not too much trouble I’d like to say hello to Reese Reynolds. Or really any of the Carter wives. You know, Asia or Alex Carter.” I shyly throw out there.
Or better yet I’d like to scratch Slade’s eyeballs out even though he’s done nothing wrong. This is a direct result of my actions. Why does it piss me off that his apparent timeframe for remaining loyal and heartbroken is that of a week? Plus, I’d love to pull the blondes golden locks out. I hope their tracks, barbie bitch. The drill sergeant eyeballs me and slightly shakes his head as if I’m a nuisance.
The Rock holds up a clipboard and looks to me. “What’s your name?”
“It’s Lena Carter.” He says.
That familiar voice has my head snapping to attention and the two bouncers look over their shoulders. Slade’s body materializes from the shadowy hallway just beyond the two bulky bouncers. His vibe is like that of a dark and dangerous entity. His silence has levels. Words are never needed with me.
Both of his hands are tucked into his pants pocket and his gunmetal eyes are speaking a silent language that I became familiar with a long time ago. It’s called raw anger laced with a side of hate. A translator is not needed. I’m well versed.
“Uhm, that’s okay. I’ll just head back to, uhm… Yeah.” You saw him now run dumbass. Slade tilts his head to the side as his jaw ticks. It’s a rhythm that looks a lot like a countdown to evil beginnings. “Thanks.”
Turning on my vamp red heel, I’m prepared to take off when his familiar touch encases my upper arm jerking me back. For the love of God. I reluctantly reserve my right to fight back because of the audience around us. Slade shuffles our bodies past the bouncers who are now staring at me like they want to help out but they’re not sure of my crimes. Slade stops long enough to pass along instructions to the hired muscle.
“If a cryptic motherfucker with black soulless eyes shows face demanding access beyond this point, call me immediately.” Slade’s voice is controlled but the level of authority etched out in his command sends a chill through my body. I know all too well that his future intentions are wickedly calculating, and he’s prepared himself for as much.
Slade tugs on my arm and I have no choice but to follow. His sure and steady footfalls are moving at a fast pace and I fumble along trying to keep up. I fear I’m going to break an ankle in my six-inch gifted vamp stilettos. My heels are click-clacking out an SOS for power walking precision with added grace.
As soon as we’re out of earshot, I figure I’ll go ahead and add some fuel on the fire. I’m not sure why I want to push his buttons. Maybe because it’s the fact that his hand on the lower back of the Insta-slut is burned into my brain.
“Slade let go of me right now,” I whisper yell over his shoulder.
My heart is pounding in my throat and my anxiety levels are rising. The view of his suit covered back does nothing to clue me in on his facial expression. I tug on my arm, but his grip only tightens.
“Not happening.” He stops in front of a door and pushes it open while shifting me in before him. I whip around and jump in place when he forcibly slams the door behind us while turning the lock. Holy hell.
Slade stalks forward and I back up until my legs hit the massive desk behind me causing my ass to check the top. I grip the ends to steady myself. His face is stone with a lockjaw demeanor. Those silver bullets bring awareness to how far up his shit list I must be placed. Slade is the only man I’ve ever known that can make me uncomfortable in my own skin by his silent presence.
Gulping down any other foolish words that I had prepared is my best course of action at this moment. I’ll wait for him to speak then try to respond with one-word answers.
My eyes dart around the room observing enough to know that this is someone’s office, likely Slade’s. The space has clean walls and a crisp black L-shape leather sofa with a huge black wooden desk that my ass is currently occupying.
Slade scrubs his five o’clock shadowed face then with aggravated movements, he removes his black suit coat tossing it behind me on the desk. He slowly rolls up both of his sleeves then anchors his hands on the desk closing me in. He leans forward until he’s an inch away from my face. I call feel his every breath and smell his cinnamon-flavored gum. My eyes frantically bouncing between his.
“You getting the space you need to absorb everything?” He breathes those venom fueled words across my face. “I just wanted to make sure this is enough distance and things aren’t too overwhelming for you.” I’ve hurt him; I get that. His intentions are to hurt me back by throwing my words in my face. It’s working.
“Does it really matter Ramp?” I use his nickname because I like pissing him off too. His jaw ticks. “You seem well adjusted though. Where’s your new friend anyway?”
I lean back a little because this is an angry grown-up version of the boy I once knew. The boy was cruel when he wanted to be, mentality. I’m not real sure of his matured-man impact. He smirks as if to say, well you wanted things this way and now you got it.
“Give me some time maybe I’ll move her in too. But I’m trying to learn from past mistakes, you know?” Ouch… that one hurt.
“I wi
sh you two the very best of luck.” The hell I do.
The lie tastes like shit as soon as it escapes my lips. I push at his chest, but he doesn’t even flinch. The urgency to get my ass off this desk and out of this office is real. I’m about to lose it. I bite the inside of my lip hoping to hold back the tears.
“I’m not doing this. Move. I’ve got to go.” When I stand from the desk, he mimics my movements, but I quickly sidestep him making way for the door. Oh shit, don’t cry Lena. Hold it in. I don’t even make it to the door and the tears appear, but Slade spins me around gripping the back of my neck.
“You fucking him?” His voice is a low rasp with venom leaking out of the words. It comes out as an accusation but in reality, it’s a question. I know this man. I don’t even have time to process his movements before I’m pinned firmly against the door with his body covering mine. I can feel the outline of his yeti dick pressing into me and I whimper like a whore. “Tell me, has he gotten between your legs, Lena?”
I immediately want to protest, and deny as well as reason out my case, or maybe slap his face. Instead I swipe away the hot tears. Not that I actually owe him an explanation considering the blonde that was hanging off his arm but my heart sure as hell feels compelled to give him one. The palms of my hands push out against his chest in a shit attempt to protest his close proximity. All these emotions are pissing me off.
“What the hell is wrong with you? It’s not like that at all. Crellan might’ve saved my life but showing my gratitude by sleeping with him is a no go. Jesus Christ, you know me better than that. I’m just, uhm… Taking care of somethings. Looking for a new place and job.” I try to move to the side, but Slade slams his hands on either side of my body.
“You don’t need another job and you know your place is with me. God damnit, why are you doing this, Len? And don’t give me that bullshit about my affiliations that no longer exist. I took care of that just like I said I would.”
