We made our way into the hall, where the music was blasting out. I checked my phone and saw that Knowles had read my text. He knew he had to make Mathers throw the fight or his nightmare game with us would never end.
Colton, Will, and Tyler were oblivious to the strings I was currently pulling behind the scenes, more focused on getting inside the girls’ knickers. I watched as Colton slapped the brunette next to him on the ass and said, “I think we have time for a bit of fun before the real work starts.”
I wasn’t bothered.
I’d let them know when their help was needed.
Colton dragged her off, not that she put up much of a fight, and Tyler and Will followed suit with the other girls. Devon stayed with me, and we stood watching, scoping out the place. The golden boys of Sandland had thought of everything, and I noticed a bar area set up in the far corner.
“I need a beer,” I stated, bypassing the crowds and heading over there. I could sense girls looking at me, but I only made eye contact with the guys that I passed, letting them know that I was here, I took no shit, and I was ready to show it. A warning stare. A ‘try me and I will fuck your shit up’ kind of glare. It worked. It always did, and as usual, they broke eye contact first, sipping their beer and turning away from me to mask their fear.
Fear.
It was something we worked hard to instil in anyone who knew us. We even had a reminder painted high up on the wall as you entered Brinton from the Sandland side of town.
‘All who come here, abandon all fear.’
It was our motto and the first thing you saw when you came onto our manor. It wasn’t that we wanted people to feel comfortable, on the contrary, they should be fucking scared. No, that message was one for the people of Brinton, the natives. They didn’t need to fear what could happen, that was our job. We chased the wolves from their doors because somebody needed to take responsibility. The police didn’t care. They wouldn’t come here after dark regardless of the crime. They barely showed up in the daytime. Years ago, we thought that was bullshit, but now, it worked in our favour.
All five of us had a story to tell, we all had our reasons for protecting what was ours. Five boys who bonded in a pupil referral unit that was set up for school kids that no school ever wanted to teach. The ones who were uncontrollable, but we had control, we just chose to use it in different ways. We controlled us, no one else had that power. We would never be told what to do. Our fate was ours alone.
I didn’t need to get the barman’s attention, he saw us and headed straight over, asking what we wanted to drink, and then poured out two beers. When he put them down in front of us, Devon opened his wallet, but he held up his hand to stop him.
“These are on the house,” he said, stepping back and folding his arms. His face remained stoic but the flex in his jaw showed that he knew who we were, and he was wary. Our reputation proceeded us.
“Nice one. Thanks,” Devon replied, totally oblivious to any tension, lifting his drink in salute before taking his first sip.
I gave a grim nod and took my drink. I wasn’t about to thank him. We owned this town, and this was our night. If we wanted a drink, we’d fucking have one.
“Do you think there’ll be more of them?” Devon asked, referring to the issue we’d had with Harvey.
“They’re vermin,” I said in a low voice, keeping my head down so no one close-by could hear. “They’ve probably scuttled off back under the rock they came from, but they won’t stay there for long. If they do come here again, we’ll be ready for them.”
“Next time, I want the kill,” Devon hissed, and then changing the mood slightly, he added, “Have you placed our bets for the fight tonight?”
I frowned at him. Devon knew better than to question me. Of course I had it all under control. When had I ever not? I was just about to tell him that I wasn’t a fucking amateur, when I felt a body brush up against me.
My skin went cold, and I turned to see who had the balls to invade my personal space, feeling instant irritation when I discovered exactly who it was.
Sarah fucking Pope.
Ironic that she shared a name with a holy guy when everything she did was fucking filth. I should’ve known she’d be here tonight. She was like a fly around shit whenever we were out. Just the scent of her desperation made me feel nauseous.
“Hi, Adam.” She smiled then bit her lip suggestively, running her eyes up and down me like I was hers for the taking.
Did she think that would make me fall at her feet?
Not likely.
This girl did absolutely nothing for me. Her red hair was fake. Her long black nails were fake. Her whole fucking personality was fake, and I was getting tired of faking my patience for her crap. She needed to get the fucking message.
I didn’t reply, just turned back to my pint, because that was more interesting than the car crash stood behind me. I didn’t need to fain boredom where Sarah Pope was concerned, I was fucking bored.
“I was hoping you’d be here tonight,” she carried on in that annoying shrill voice of hers, desperately clinging to any form of conversation she could to try and get my attention.
“Where else would I fucking be?” I snapped back, looking anywhere but in her direction in the hope that she’d give up like she usually did. Girl was like fucking Dory the fish, oblivious to the fact that I hated her. Only difference was, she was more piranha than blue tang. Nemo wouldn’t have stood a chance in her pool.
She giggled to herself and nudged my arm with her shoulder. “I love the way you play hard to get.”
I frowned and narrowed my eyes, turning to stare down at her like I was ready to eviscerate her with the power of my glare. “Who says I’m fucking playing?” I growled, then jerked my arm away from her, grimacing at the fact that she was standing so close to me. She needed it spelt out plain and simple. She was getting nowhere with me tonight. She never had and she never would.
She didn’t take the hint though and gave another annoying giggle as she ran her long nails along my forearm.
“Don’t. Fucking. Touch me,” I hissed, pulling away from her in disgust. This bitch was walking a thin line. She was grating on my last nerve.
“Oh, come on…” She leant closer to me, and I could smell the alcohol on her breath. It’d obviously given her extra courage as she was a little more persistent tonight. “You know, I could make you feel really good. Take me home, and I’ll suck you and fuck you so hard you’ll never want to let me go.”
I laughed, and not because I thought she was funny. She was a bloody joke.
I dipped my head down to answer her, pushing my face to hers–even though it made my stomach roll. “So I hear from the rest of the lads. But they all let you go, didn’t they?” I smirked and cocked my head to the side, giving her a look I usually reserved for the shitheads I wanted to freak out. Colton called it the psycho stare. Right now, it was my get-Sarah-the-fuck-away-from-me stare. She didn’t like that, and her face instantly went from flirty to fuming.
“One day, you’ll realise what an asshole you’ve been to keep turning me down, Adam Noble,” she shouted a little too loudly, which earned her a ripple of snorts and muffled laughter from the people in our immediate vicinity. She glared around her as her face grew as red as her hair and then spat out, “Fuck you.” Then, she spun on her heels, whipping her hair into my face and causing me to reel back in repulsion.
“Never gonna happen, sweetheart,” I muttered into my pint, relieved that she’d left but still wincing from the aftereffects of her presence that hung heavy–like a demon that needed exorcizing.
“That one will never give up,” Devon said, knowing he needed to tread carefully where this subject was concerned. “You’ve made it a game for her. The more you push her away, the more she wants you.”
“Maybe I need to push harder.” I turned to face him and raised my eyebrow, keeping my face neutral so he knew I really didn’t give a fuck. “And make sure she’s close enough to the edge of the river for it to mean something.”
“She’d probably come back to haunt you anyway.” Devon chuckled as he threw back the last of his pint. That’s what I loved about Devon; he didn’t waste time on pointless bullshit.
“She wants a full house of soldiers in her bed,” I reminded him. “And that is never gonna happen. She should be happy with four out of five.” My forehead hurt from frowning so hard, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t here for anything other than making money and breaking dreams. I certainly wasn’t going to stroke Sarah Pope’s ego, or anything else of hers for that matter. Her pussy probably did come with claws. I couldn’t help smiling to myself at that thought, but when I looked across, Devon’s face was devoid of the humour it’d held a moment ago.
“Make that three,” he sneered in disgust. “I haven’t touched her, and I never would.” And he turned up his nose like he could smell her desperation too.
“She’s probably scared you’ll go overboard when you’re choking her and live up to your reaper nickname in the bedroom too.” I was full-on smirking now behind my pint glass, because we both knew what I said was true. Devon was a little too dark, even for Sarah Pope.
He didn’t deny it, only shrugged his shoulders and rocked back on his heels. “A man wants what he wants,” was what he said in response, and fair play to him. What he did in his own time was none of my business.
“Yep.” I nodded in agreement. “And what I want right now is to watch Brandon Mathers get knocked the fuck out in his own boxing ring in front of his adoring fans.”
Devon’s eyes twinkled like he’d been lit up from the inside. He knew as well as I did that nights like these were what it was all about. Nights when we reminded everyone who we fucking were and what we stood for.
Kings of chaos.
Soldiers of anarchy.
The mascots for a generation of reprobates, no marks, and fuckups.
“It is fucking on,” he said through the wide smile he couldn’t hold in. It wasn’t often Devon smiled, but when he did, you knew it meant something.
We pushed our way through the sweaty crowds as they danced to the thumping beat, jolting us as they got lost in the music that took them to another level of euphoria. Unlike them, our feet were firmly on the ground as we headed towards the hall next door. We’d already scoped out the building a few days ago to check on their preparations for the event, so we knew where the fights were being held, but even we were impressed when we walked into the room and saw the final result.
It was dark, but the random strobe lights that’d been set up in the corners of the room gave off just the right amount of light to give it that gritty, underground vibe that made it feel raw, real, electric. The roar of the crowd as they watched the warm-up fight taking place in the ring in the middle of the room drowned out the thumping bass coming from the main hall, and hearing it made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. I glanced around, taking in all the banners that were draped along the metal walkways that ran around the perimeter of the room. Granted, the slogans on them were a pile of shit.
Beat ‘em to the punch.
Show your killer instinct.