Walk the Line (Kings of Chaos 5)

He grunts. “You set a date for her to get tatted?”

“Not yet. Neither of us is in a rush.”

He scoffs. “The road to hell is paved with, good intentions.”

“You sound dangerously close to disrespecting my Old Lady. You calling her a liar?”

“I ain’t calling her nothing. I never met her.”

“Yet, you have a lot to say about her.”

“Not her. What I know about her type.”

“We going to agree to disagree or are we headed into the ring?” I ask.

“She sure got you wrapped tightly around her finger, don’t she?”

“Warp, I’m warning you.”

“Warning me? You think I’m scared of you?”

“Let’s take this to the ring,” I say.

“Gladly.”

“When we’re done, I don’t want to hear another bad word against, Blanche. You feel me?”

“Hopefully I’ll knock some sense into you.”

“I’m going to change and grab Stone to referee.”

The bell rings, and it’s all-out war. There’s no dancing around, it’s a slugfest as we go blow for blow, laying into one another. Pain explodes in my ribs. I land a shot to his left eye. His head snaps back, and I grin. The metallic taste of blood coats my mouth. His lip splits, and my ears ring as he catches me with a wicked right hook.

“Alright. Enough of this. Whatever beef you have stays in this ring.”

I place my hands on my knees to catch my breath and nod.

Not even one round. My knuckles are bruised and bloody, and my eye is swelling. Warp looks equally bad, if not worse. His busted lip makes me smirk. I focused on the source of my rage, his mouth. He spits out blood.

“Agreed.”

“Good. Now touch fists and get the hell out of here.” We touch fists reluctantly and retreat to our own corners. I climb from the ring ignoring the stares following me out of the room and down the hall to my dorm room. Warp and I were like two peas in a pod most of the time, so stepping into the ring to settle a difference is major gossip material. I hit the shower with water as hot as I can stand it. I cringe as the water hits my open wounds, but I know my body will thank me later when I’m not as sore. I rinse off the blood and stand beneath the spray until the water runs cold. I step out, dry off, and pop pain pills dry mouthed. The knock on the door makes me scowl. Last thing I’m up for is a lecture about brotherly love from Stone.

“Freeze, it’s Ratchet, I got your stuff man.”

I’ve never been relieved to hear from a Prospect before. I walk to the door and open it. “Good work, Spec.” I take the mail and my cut with a head nod. There are times like these when the walls of the club close in. When you need a break from the constant noise, women vying for your attention, and brothers who all have a story to tell you. I finish dressing, shrug on my cut and put on a sneer. My expression keeps everyone at bay as until I’m out the door and on my way home. I’ve never had a home like this. The dorms are a shelter. A place I can eat, change, and keep my stuff. I have company and brothers, but it’s not comforting, unless you count familiarity. It suited me fine when I was on the road more than not, but I see the difference.

The thought of the condo decorated by Blanche with bits of me, memories of our time together, home cooked meals, and someone who loves me is a universe unlike any I’ve ever known. Love. For most of my life, it’s eluded me to the point where I wondered if it was a myth. A pretty concept they feed you like fairytales, romance stories, and myths. Most marriages end in divorce, and unlike most people, familial love is like a unicorn to me, mythical and completely ridiculous. I no more believed in the concept of concentrated affection as I did that ridiculous horned creature.

Except now, it’s all changed. Funny how the first-hand experience with the right person can completely change your point of view. I’m stiff and exhausted by the time I get to the parking lot. I grunt as I dismount and get my saddle bags over my shoulder. I wrap an arm around my bruised ribs and climb the stairs. I know she took the third floor for extra security. It’s a smart move for a single mom on her own. Right now, I’m hating it. I unlock the door and step inside.

“Oh, my, God. J, what the hell happened to you?”

“I came to an agreement.”

“With who? Mike Tyson?”

“Don’t make me laugh. It hurts too badly.”