A Destiny of Carnage (A Violent Agenda)

It doesn’t.

But the warden sends me solitary for the rest of the day, which suits me fine. I’m in no mood to be around the masses. No one bothers to give me anything to clean the blood off, so I’m left with the taste of copper in my mouth and black shit under my clipped nails as I sit on the thin mattress, enjoying the old throb in my wrist from where it used to be broken.

Getting into the segregation unit where I know Jude is proving harder than I thought. How do I convince the people running this shitty facility that I’m a threat if scarring another resident and biting a hole in the neck of another one isn’t bloody enough?

Annoyingly, Lorcan is right.

I need allies.

“Hey, psycho,”one of Jordan’s crew, a guy with short black hair, dark brown eyes, and brown skin, calls out. “Jordan wants a word.”

I’m barely five seconds out of solitary and on my way to the communal common area when I’m being summoned. I give him a visceral look.

“He just wants to talk.” He stares me out, his gaze flinty and full of hostility until I suck in a breath and shrug. Griffin’s guy may want to talk, but I’m itching for a fight after a week of seeing no one but the orderly who brings my meals. Still, Lor’s request to smooth things over for the sake of finding Jude is not lost on me. I’ve no idea if Jordan is working for my father now, or if he’s going it alone now that Griffin is gone. Maybe it’s time I found out.

The guy grunts for me to follow him so I do, down the hallway toward the rooms at the rear of the building that seem to have much better views.

He catches me staring.

“Residents who have been here longer get the nice rooms.”

I glance at him. “Is that so?”

I don’t plan on staying here for a second longer than I have to.

The pale girl with braids is leaning against the wall outside one of the rooms. She practically vibrates with malice when she sees me.

“I don’t care that we’re meant to keep you alive. I’m going to stab your pretty eyes out for what you did to me,” she grits out.

Although the back of her neck would have hurt more when I doused her with the boiling liquid, she’s lucky I didn’t scar her face with it.“Raine, move out the way. Jordan wants to talk to her,” says the guy leading me to see Jordan.

She glances at him. “She’s a fucking psycho, Cal. There’s no talking to bitches like her.”

“That’s not your call to make,” Cal intones.

After a few seconds, she moves out the way, bristling at me. I don’t bother to acknowledge her as I walk past. She’s like a rabid dog, demanding attention. She reminds me of Kristian in that way.

And look what happened to him.

Jordan, light brown hair flopping over into his face, tattoos everywhere, smirks as I walk in. He’s lounging on an actual sofa. On the right side is a single bed, neatly made. His room is twice the size of mine and actually has windows, even though there are bars that run vertically over the entire frame.

“V, is that what they call you?” When I make no move to indicate yes or no, he cocks his head. “Alright, no foreplay. Take a pew.” He indicates to the bed.

I’d rather stand, given I’m now trapped inside this room with a guy who has promised to kill me. The excitement of the whole situation has my body crawling with adrenaline. I like walking on the edge. It’s the only thing that keeps me feeling alive.

And the darkness at bay.

“I understand now why you took Griffin out. Your boy, Duke—he paid me a visit while you were in lockdown. Pascal is a sweet girl. She didn’t deserve that.” I cock my head, waiting for him to continue. He sighs when he doesn’t get a response. “You’re looking for the gorilla?”

My brows raise.

“Jude,” he snorts.

Okay, that’s got my attention. I shift my stance, gaze flitting to Raine as she peers around the door and then back to Jordan. “You know where he is?”

“That motherfucker caused all kinds of fucked up shit in here.”

I slit my eyes. “Sounds like Jude. Where is he?”