by Amo Jones
Tossing deli meats and butter onto the counter, I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Is she in another RV now?”
Kenan shakes his head. “Nope. She’s out out. As in for good.”
I pause just as there’s a loud knock on the door. It swings open and Perse is walking in holding a clipboard. “Sorry to interrupt!” Her long red hair is messy, as if she’s just woken up, her eyes tired. “I just—”
“—Perse, I didn’t expect you to kick Callan out of Mayhem altogether!”
Perse sighs, resting the clipboard in front of her, as she makes her way into the kitchen. “I know, Sass, but here’s the thing; I don’t like girls like her in general and I sure as fuck don’t want them as a part of our family. Because that’s what we are. Family. If one of us can’t trust the other, the family crumbles, so she had to go. She’s more than able to take care of herself now, and there are other things surrounding why she had to go.”
I know she’s talking about what Killian told me, how they don’t think they can trust her.
I take a few deep breaths. “Wow. Okay. Where’d she go?”
“That doesn’t matter. So, obviously we need four people, so I need you to officially meet our new fourth, and please for the love of God will you both get along. Only Delila and King know that I recruited this person, but it was the best I could do.”
I’ve finished stacking my sandwich. “Promise. Who is she?”
The door opens and Perse slowly turns, displaying who it is that walked in. “You mean, he.”
Kaizer stumbles in holding a suitcase. “Surprise,” he smirks, winking at me.
Bread gets stuck in my throat and I bang on my chest, willing it to come out. “Wait! What?”
Kaizer walks farther into the RV, shutting the door behind himself. “I’m your new fourth.”
Perse is smiling at me but it’s forced. As if she knows she’s going to be in trouble for this, but she’s going to act innocent about it anyway.
“And what does King think of this?”
Perse chuckles. “Trust me, it took some convincing, but he’s fine with it if—” Perse takes a deep breath. “If I partner with Kenan and you partner with Kaizer now.” Her smile widens.
“I hate you,” I deadpan. “And your possessive boyfriend.”
Perse laughs, nudging Kenan. “Aside from the dance routine you both do solo, she’ll be partnered with Kaizer now and I with you during our group routine.”
“I’m not that bad,” Kaizer mutters, moving farther into the bus.
I hold my breath. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
“What?” Kaizer grins. “My cousin?” The tension in the air crackles at that exact moment he mentions Killian.
“Well.”
“He won’t care.” Kaizer rolls his eyes. “You forget what I told you?”
I relax a little, taking in his words. He’s probably right. I’m overreacting. I just don’t want to give Killian yet another reason to cause a problem with me.
Later that night, I slip back into my bedroom, tossing and turning and struggling to sleep. Rolling onto my stomach, I play over what the conversation must have been like between Perse and Callan. Callan will for sure hate me now, and there’s nothing I can do about that at all.
Black walls cave in around me as a phone rings in the background.
Ringing and ringing. That classic iPhone tune. The one I hate. I don’t know why I hate that sound, but I do.
I search around the floor, my fingers grazing over the concrete. My nails tear from the skin when I scratch against the concrete ground. The tune gets louder and louder. Blood is dripping down my fingertips. I start to panic. Sweat pours out of my pores as I continue to frantically try to find it.
“Why can’t I see anything!” I scream when the sound and pain become unbearable.
“Because we don’t want you to…”
I shoot up from the bed, swiping the sweat off my face. Another stupidly graphic nightmare, but when I check the clock on my bedside table and see it’s seven a.m., I’m no longer mad. I got a full seven hours’ sleep last night, even though I struggled to go to sleep.
My phone rings and I jolt from the bed, that same ringtone blaring through the room. Shivers break out over my skin as I stare at the unknown caller. This isn’t my ringtone.
The sound continues until I shake off my unwarranted fear, swipe to unlocked it, and answer.
“Hello?”
“Saskia Dragavei, the time is so close.” The voice that comes through the other side of the call is like ice being pumped through my veins.
My heartbeat quickens in my chest as I slowly and shakily get to my feet. “Who is this?”
The line goes dead.
I stare down at my phone, confused. Who was that?
There’s a loud bang on my door and I jump in shock before it’s being kicked down and Killian is standing on the other side with nothing but loose jeans that aren’t buttoned and no shirt. It’s as though he got out of bed and came straight here, with his hair unruly all over his head and his eyes manic.
“Killian, what the fuck!” I yell at him, a mixture of panic and confusion from my weird morning.
He points to my suitcase. “Pack your shit.”
“What the hell are you doing? Are you high?”
Killian laughs manically. “Oh, you fucking wish I was high, baby, then maybe I wouldn’t have to fight the need to fucking strangle you. Pack. Your. Shit.”
“I’m confused,” I answer, because it’s all I can think to say in the midst of the chaos. “Why do I have to pack?”
Killian has had enough obviously because he’s now unzipping my suitcase—which was only partially unpacked to begin with—and starts throwing clothes inside of it.
“Killian!” I yell, which must have woken the entire bus because now Kaizer and Kenan are standing at the threshold of my door.
Kaizer is spooning granola into his mouth, watching the commotion.
Killian, as if sensing him, spins around. “Get the fuck out, Kaiz.”
Kaizer pauses and then looks at me. “I was wrong. He is losing his shit.”
“Pack.” Killian points.
“Killian, no!” I reach for the clothes he’s taking. “I’m not leaving, I have to stay here.”
He holds the clothes above his head, so I have to jump and reach for them. It’s useless since he’s almost an entire foot taller.
I point to the two of them. “Get out.” They both leave and I kick the door closed before going back to Killian.
I reach for his arm. “What’s the problem?”
Killian pauses, his jaw tensing a few times. “The problem is that you don’t know Kaizer, Saskia, and I don’t want his bullshit around you.”
“Oh, but I can have your bullshit around me?” I throw back, raising my eyebrows and completely forgetting about the weird phone call and dream that just happened.
“Yes,” Killian hisses, walking closer to me, until I’m backing up against the wall.
His fingers flex around my throat. “You gonna ask why my bullshit is allowed around you?”
I square my shoulders. “Why, Killian?”
“This isn’t even about Kaizer as a person, Saskia, it’s fucking about you. About how I may be many things, but a liar is not one of them.” He releases me, shoving me back against the wall and tossing my clothes back onto the bed. He turns around to face me just as he reaches for the door. “You’re right, Little Dragon. You do what you need to do.” Then he stalks out, slamming the door behind him.
“What was that?” Kyrin asks, as I’m making my way back to our RV. Of course the fucker came for the show, and that’s partly my fault. At first, Ky just wanted to fuck her. Bad. But now I think he’s actually intrigued by her because of the interest I’ve had in her.
“Nothing,” I mutter, just as King is stepping out of he and Perse’s bus.
He whistles out to us and waves us over, putting a smoke into his mouth. We make
our way to him as he’s blowing out a cloud.
He hands it to me. “You need this?”
I watch him carefully as he throws a shirt over his head and I bring the tip of the smoke to my mouth. “You knew?” I ask, inhaling angrily. I let the harsh nicotine choke me to death before exhaling it out through a hiss.
“I did,” he says, rubbing the palms of his hands over his face. “Truthfully, I didn’t think you’d give that much of a fuck, but fuck, Kill, the whole fucking compound could hear the two of you arguing.”
I suck in another gulp of poison before blowing it back out. “That wasn’t arguing.”
King and Kyrin share a stare before they both look back to me.
“Are you forgetting the plan?” King murmurs. “Because if you’re not equipped to do it, I can send someone else in.”
I freeze, the cigarette just short of my lips. “You can’t actually, because Saskia isn’t someone who lets anyone in. She has walls so high that no motherfucker can climb.”
“You did.” King glares at me.
I grin. “I didn’t actually, I just tore the fuckers down.” There’s not one fucking person walking this earth that is as close to her as me—and that’s including Kenan.
King seems to ponder over my words before he snatches the smoke back from me. “Maybe, but that, brother, wasn’t supposed to happen.”
A smirk crawls onto my lips, my eyes hooded. “Or was it?”
Killian’s back and forth reminds me of being on a pirate ship. It rocks constantly, but you know that you better hang on for your life because he’d have no problem throwing you overboard.
I’ve missed this. The anticipation to a show, not knowing what could or couldn’t happen. I haven’t spoken to Killian since the morning he stormed in and out of my bus. I’m worried about how my act is going to go tomorrow night because of it.
My phone vibrates in my hands as I’m making my way over to the tent to train. Clicking it unlocked, I open a message from Hope.
Hope: I’m sorry for worrying you, Saskia. I am ok now.
Pausing my footing to shuffle my bags into my other hand, I send off another message to her. R u home now?
She replies almost instantly. I am. Where are you? Still in Kiznitch?
I quickly reply, No, in San Antonio.
She doesn’t respond, so I carry on back to the tent, pushing my thoughts about Hope to the back of my brain. I want to ask her why she was coming to Kiznitch to begin with, but I keep forgetting every time we talk. I’ll ask her tonight.
Dropping my bags at the front of the stage, Rose, Val, and a few others are flipping around the aerials when I enter, music pouring out of the seams of the tent. I start warming up, popping my AirPods into my ears to remain focused. “Devil” by Nikyee Heaton plays as I move around the stage until my body is hot and sweaty. Someone taps on my shoulder after my third round and I quickly tear out the pods, turning to face Perse.
“You can have the speakers now!”
“Thanks.” I smile at her.
“You’ve got the floor now until six, then The Brothers are coming in.”
I nod, tearing off my shirt until I’m standing in nothing but my sports bra and Nike spandex shorts. “That’s cool. It’s all the time I need.”
Perse hands me the remote, so I can control the music, and I sync it to my phone. I flick through the songs again. The thing that I love about having my own act is that I’m allowed to choose when I change my songs or how I change them. I have complete control over my fire scenes—both of them. The rope and dragon staff. I try to keep with two different genres of music to keep it fresh but realistically, I don’t need to. It’s not like the same people are watching our show more than once in each city. Pushing play on Halsey’s “You Should Be Sad,” I light up both ends of my dragon staff and start warming up. Rolling it against my back until it falls into the palm of my hand. The music pounds through the speakers loudly. I flip the staff up as the hook exits and the chorus kicks back in. The song is powerful without being loud. The lyrics float on top of the tune, creating a perfect balance of synchronized harmony. It’s too much. Too close. Too much.
I snatch up the remote and change the song. After practicing for the final two hours that I have, I pack up my things and head backstage to put everything near my compartment and mirror. I know the songs that I’m using for my solo acts tomorrow, and I’m almost certain that we’re doing the same routine for the group and Kenan and I tomorrow since Perse hasn’t said anything, and also, the bikes have started up, so I just want to get the fuck out of here.
The smell of gasoline and burning rubber fills up the tent almost instantly, as if the vast space of it means nothing. As if the sheer opulence that constructs all of Midnight Mayhem’s tents means nothing as soon as these boys ride their Harleys up in the arena.
Making a beeline for the exit out the back, I quickly scrub up in the shower and get changed. I know that there’s a cookout happening tonight like there is every night, before and during shows, and aside from the fact that I don’t particularly enjoy too many social settings, I do want to make more of an effort with the people I genuinely care about here, like Perse, Val, and Kenan.
I run the brush through my hair, allowing natural waves to fall down my back all the way to my tailbone. Swiping my lips with red lipstick, I quickly dress in jean short cut-offs and a Harley Davidson crop top that’s torn in all the right places. Slipping my feet into a pair of red Chucks, I push my phone into my back pocket and make my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The door opens behind me and I stop short, just as the bottle of tequila grazes my fingers.
“Oh shit, you drinking tonight, Boo?” Kenan chuckles, walking in with a joint hanging out of his mouth.
“Actually, no.” I chuckle, shaking my head. “I’m bringing it for Perse because she is.”
Kenan hands me the lit joint. “I don’t know how that girl never has a hangover.”
I take it from him and put it between my lips. “She’s crazy, that’s why.” I take a few puffs before giving it back to him. “You coming tonight?”
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll be down after a shower.” He pauses, and then grins. “Seen Kaizer?”
The pot instantly relaxes me. Shaking my head. “Nope. Not since this morning.”
He chuckles. “Wait for me and we’ll go down together. Here.” He throws another joint at me. “Take a seat and chill.” I take it, pulling out my pack of smokes from my back pocket and placing them both on the table. Flicking my Zippo around my fingers, I watch closely as the light hits the edges of the silver casing. The embedded patterns engraved in the steel. The shower turns on. I continue flicking it.
Biting a cigarette into my mouth, I blaze the end and open my phone. I don’t need extra drama or drama in general in my life; in fact, I hate drama and do my best to stay away from it, but since being in Midnight Mayhem, it’s proving difficult to not get caught up in it.
Five minutes later, Kenan is shuffling down the stairs doing up his belt with freshly showered hair. He runs his hands through the ends. “Blaze that joint and let’s go.” He takes the tequila as I light the end and we make our way out of the bus and toward Val’s RV where the parties usually are. The fire pit is in the middle and a small makeshift bar to the side. It’s almost identical to how it always looks, no matter what town we’re in. I wonder to myself if they do this as a false sense of stability.
“You’re here!” Val comes crashing into me, her arm swinging over my shoulder. It’s crowded, way too crowded for my comfort. Good thing I’m high off my face.
I drop into the chair opposite her and sip on a cup of juice that Kenan brought over to me. He grins, pressing a kiss against my cheek. “Just drink juice so they think you’re having alcohol.”
I smirk up at him, tipping my head back and taking a long sip.
I’m stoned as shit. In fact, when I try to look Val in the eye, everything is moving around her in slow motion. The flames from the fire lick thro
ugh the dark night, morphing into faces and objects.
I shake my head just as Perse reaches for my hand and tugs me to my feet. I drop my cup, the bright orange liquid spilling out against the fresh green grass. Perse and I start dancing with Val coming in the middle. A couple of the Angels slip in with us too, with the Demons standing. We’re all wasted or drunk or high, and all around it’s a good vibe.
I look up slowly to see all four Brothers sitting in their chairs right near the fire.
Killian is wearing a leather jacket with no shirt underneath and dark, ripped jeans. His combat boots are loose around his feet, his legs spread wide.
He stretches them wider with a smirk on his mouth as his eyes drop all the way down my body before coming back up to meet mine again. I hate the way he makes me feel. How can someone hold so much power without physically holding any? The chemistry between us seems to only get hotter and hotter the more time we spend around each other, whether we like or want it.
“Nonstop” by Drake starts playing loudly. Killian’s tongue slides out and dampens his bottom lip.
He curls his finger.
I fight it, ignoring him and turning around to face Kenan who’s watching me carefully from the other side. Kenan and I are completely platonic. We talk a lot of shit, or he does, but we both know nothing would ever happen between us because we mean too much to one another.
I spin back around. Killian gestures to his lap. Now, he mouths. A harsh dose of adrenaline takes over me and before I can stop myself, I find my feet going straight to where he is.
Once I’m within arm’s reach, his hands squeeze around the backs of my thighs and he yanks me down onto his lap so I’m straddling him.
His hand comes to the back of my neck and he shoves my face down, my lips barely touching his. He groans, smirking. “Hmmm, kinda want to punish you right now.”
Heat rushes through me, and like a crack addict, I absorb every single drop of it. “Why?” I ask, though my mouth feels like it’s moving slowly.
He leans forward and sucks my bottom lip between his teeth. “Because you’ve been a pain in my fucking ass, and now I sort of want to make yours hurt.” He pushes up from where he was sitting, taking my hand in his.
