In Silence She Screams (Midnight Mayhem 3)

“Because you’re looking like a fucking King.”

I move out of Lilith’s cubicle, shifting my dick in my pants. Fuck. Me. The girl is insane. Then again, if Bishop, Nate, or Brantley were here, they’d tell me I’ve always loved the crazy ones.

I’m about to move through the dark pathway to the seating area when an arm whips up and halts my movements, an inch away from my face.

The scent hits me like a bag of bricks. Woodsy, dark, and smoky—just like him. As if he’s been playing in a rich man’s ashtray all his life, yet still somehow coming out clean.

“Well, fuck, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Slowly turning, Kyrin’s eyes come to mine. He’s a couple inches taller than me, but we’re both built almost identical, with Kyrin being more on the bulk side and me on the lean. The dim purple lighting does fucking magical things to the curves of his face, but unfortunately not his mood. He’s shirtless, wearing nothing but jeans that are destroyed around the knees, and his clown face is already painted on. It looks obviously similar to Lilith’s. I wonder if the makeup artist was making a joke, painting them the girl and boy versions of it.

“What are you doing here, Eli?” he asks, his voice low. “And don’t lie to me.”

“I told you. I’m working.” I reach into his pocket, grabbing his packet of cigarettes.

He doesn’t stop me, his eyes narrowing on my fingers as I light the end and bring it to my mouth.

His tongue rolls over his bottom lip as I suck down the nicotine. Truthfully, I fucking need it. The dominant and intimidating energy Kyrin carries around is a fucking lot. I push the pack back into his pocket, smirk around the trunk of my smoke, and pull him in until he connects with my very hard dick. Just when I think he’s going to fight it, his other hand is against the wall beside my head, while his other snatches the smoke from my lips and brings it to his own.

“That for me, or did you just see Lilith naked?” A voice laced in sleep, he is everyone’s worst nightmare with eyes people never forget.

My eyes dip to his abs before trailing lower and coming back up. “Fuck, I don’t even know at this point.”

Kyrin takes a long inhale of his cigarette while keeping his eyes on mine. Smoke drifts out of his nostrils and between his lips before he tosses the butt onto the grass, stomping on it with a heavy biker boot. “Good answer.” He pushes away and I watch as he disappears down the makeshift hallway backstage, but not before looking briefly into Lilith’s cubicle.

I shake my head and try to bring my shit down before walking out with a hard dick.

Think of Nate.

Of Bishop.

Of fucking Brantley.

Okay, yeah, all of them work.

Pulling out my phone, I head into the audience, slipping past people being seated by a few of the workers while sending a text to Bishop, the leader of The Elite Kings. The Elite Kings Club is—well—it’s like a secret society, though most call it a cult. It’s a really fucking long story how it all came about, but basically, I’m a Rebellis, which in English means rebel. I have a job within the world, just as my father and his father did, but right now, I’m here on another job, and that’s to make sure that Midnight Mayhem isn’t feeding us to our enemies.

I see a text from Bishop and open it.

Bishop: Got an update? You know you can come back…

I read over his text a few times before looking out onto the stage. Lilith and Kyrin are in my head, and I can’t believe I’m about to do this right now, but—

My fingers fly over my keyboard. Me: U need me?

Almost instantly, Bishop texts back. Bishop: Not yet. Do what you gotta do.

Me: Plan on it.

Bishop: Careful there, E. You can’t trust outsiders.

Me: I know.

Seconds go by before my phone vibrates in my pocket. Bishop: You think she knows?

Me: Don’t know yet.

I’m about to shove my phone back into my pocket when a thought passes through my mind. I open up Instagram and go to the search bar, typing in Midnight Mayhem. I find their page, which has over two million followers, and go straight for their Following. Possibly a bit stalker-ish, but my dick wants what it wants.

My thumb hovers over Kyrin Nero before I push on it and the page loads onto his profile.

Followers 956.2K Following 5

His profile photo is of him on his bike, shirtless, with a bandanna wrapped around his mouth, and his bio is blank. He has no highlight tabs and forty-three posts. I scroll through them. Mostly of his bike and lake shots, but there’s one with him and a girl with teal-colored hair. They look a little familiar, and Kyrin doesn’t come off as the type of person to share love easily, even if cousins, so I’m going to guess she’s his sister. Hot as fuck, too. Eyes the same color as her hair, with skin as flawless as Kyrin’s. She has tattoos in some places, and a smile that could straight-up light up someone even as moody as Kyrin. I click to his followers and see he’s only following The Brothers and a girl named Cartier, before going back to Midnight Mayhem’s page and finding Saskia’s profile. I skip over the details and go straight for her following, finding Lilith straight away.