Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
“I won’t be doing anyone anything until I have him back with me. He doesn’t belong here with you, and I don’t know what it is you think you’re trying to do here, but you won’t win.” I lean forward, resting my palm against his chubby chest. “You will not win against Kiznitch and the EKC. So I’ll leave you with a parting thought.” I stand, swiping my hands down my pants. “I’ll give you forty-eight hours to deliver Eli to the address that is being sent to your phone right now, and if he is not there? Let’s use your imagination real quick.” I wave my hand up in the air to accentuate an imaginary image. “A war in this town, people knowing your secrets, blood all over this beautiful suit.” I lean down so my lips are near his ear, fighting the bile that’s rising in my throat from his sheer proximity. “And a war is something I’m willing to start for my family. Is it something you’re willing to lose yours for?”
I snatch my Prada clutch from the bar, pointing at the bartender before moving my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose. “And the answer is yes, I would have fucked you.” My heels clink across the dirty bar floor until I’m out on the open street, my city car waiting on the curb.
Jordan is already standing with the back door open, his Uzi strapped outside his suit and the wrinkle lines in the middle of his forehead deeper than they were this morning before I told him what I was doing.
“Cartier, please don’t ever ask me to sit out again. I will say no. You could have gotten hurt and it’s my job to protect you. I took an oath!”
I roll my eyes at his theatrics, slipping into the back seat. I wait for him to start driving away before I answer. “Men like Dominic have fragile masculinity. If I had walked in there with my guards, he would have only seen it as a weakness, Jordan. Weakness will get a woman killed faster than stupidity.” I tear my hair out of the slick ponytail it is in, running my fingers through my scalp to break up the strands. Kicking off my heels, I reach for my Vans and slip my socks on before tying them to my feet. I switch into some jeans and undo the buttons to the little blouse, tossing it onto the chair and changing to my vintage Versace crop. I breathe out a sigh, picking up my phone and scrolling through Instagram. Among my million and whatever followers, I’ve started sharing to TikTok too, but only when it’s riding or doing weird skits. I wish I could say that’s all to keep appearances, but it isn’t. It allows me to have fun with this side since I have none with my Mayhem side. It’s ironic. The reason why I wanted to finally join Mayhem was to enjoy my childhood more, but all it has done is try to rob it.
My phone starts ringing in my hand and I see my mother’s name flash over the screen.
“Hey, Mom…” I wondered if I would be mad at her about finding out who my real father is if I wasn’t who I was today, but I don’t think I would be. I’m still Kiznitch, more than any of them, and so I have a little Patience in me. I can’t say I’m surprised. The darkness has always lingered inside of me, I’ve just subdued it by feeding it my fears.
“Hey, honey, how is work?”
“Well,” I say, looking out the window at the passing trees and busy streets. It has been a good thing that I have my mom, and I’ll always be thankful for her on that day…
Past
Kiznitch isn’t a playground. Everyone knows that, so I hated coming back here as a kid.
Fog drifts around my ankles, and it feels a lot like my ancestors are reaching for me from below. This air would leave frost residue over my bones, the trees never grow leaves, and I’m pretty sure no one has seen a sunny day in all history of Kiznitch being founded. The land is old, the buildings ancient, the history haunted.
I stop outside the concrete gates of the driveway. I know I need to go down and stare up at the high pointed ceilings. I know this will be my home—this is going to be where I’ll stay now, unless I need to be in the US during Midnight Mayhem. I have to lay low, and to do that I need to keep my distance.
Jordan and Chris are in the front of the car, handing the security at the gate our ID before Jordan drives us forward. I watch down below as the thick fog separates the further we drive until we finally stop outside a large wooden door that has iron latches and fittings.