In Chaos We Reign (Midnight Mayhem #4) Read Online Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Forbidden, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Midnight Mayhem Series by Amo Jones
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Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
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It’s the first time I’ve noticed that maybe his eyes are blue. Green? No. Definitely blue. You know what? Why the fuck is everyone in this damn town attractive?

“Alright, beat it, you two. I didn’t see you.” His big body moves up the stairs, and I spin around to see Kenan already with his tongue down a girl’s throat.

Chuckling, I swing near the bar and order ten shots. We don’t have time for drinks, and I knew I was lying about just having one the second I turned the car down this street.

Kenan’s arms wrap around my waist as he rests his chin on my shoulder. “You left me with her.”

I wink at the bartender, licking salt off my hand. “You looked busy…” Shooting down the tequila, I suck on the wedge of lime as Kenan shuffles his ass onto the bar. No one says a word. Midnight Mayhem has a bad rep whenever we come back to Kiznitch because we can be loud and obnoxious. Not usually The Brothers, but others. Like Kenan. Too bad if anyone has a problem with him tonight, they’ll have to go through me. Oh God… am I drunk already?

Kenan wraps his lips around the rim of the shot glass and tips his head back. Swiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he presses his forehead to mine. “You know… I don’t think this is a one drink kind of party.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out the little ball of white powder. “Hello, darkness…” The music changes to a familiar tune, and I snatch the bag off him while gesturing around the drinks. I tell the bartender that we’re heading upstairs and ask if we could get someone to move the drinks up before I drag Kenan back the way we came, taking the steps as fast as I can despite the shot of tequila in my blood.

I’ve never been upstairs before. I’ve been down once, and that was because I was desperate for space during a month-long trip here a couple of years ago. I sat at the bar and drank myself into a coma.

I pause when I see the owner staring at me from the corner of the room. The whole upstairs is made up of private VIP booths, lined with LED lights at the bottom of each seating. All of the booths overlook the club downstairs, and right now, there is only another group around where the owner is.

I gesture to the booth closest to us, and Kenan takes it as we lay what shots we have left on the table since we decided to carry them up.

A naked man who appears to be a waiter and wearing nothing but a bowtie around his neck with a skull hanging off, stops at our table, interrupting Kenan’s recording. I don’t even know when Kenan records for his daily vlogs, but I do know that I’ve had three shots of tequila and my cheeks are running hot.

The waiter smirks down at me and I hide my chuckle. Men. Such simple creatures. “Can I get you all new drinks?”

I lean over, touching the bowtie with my finger and running it down his chest. “Four more shots of Patron, please.”

The waiter, whose hair is tied in a messy bun on the top of his head, brings his eyes lazily to mine. “Sure. Anything else?”

I release him like I would a fish out of water. “Nope.” Dusting the salt on my hand, I lick it off while maintaining eye contact with him. “That’s all. For now.” The music blares in the background, and I’ve lost count how many shots we’ve had. Every now and then I feel the eyes of the owner on me, but it’s fleeting, like he’s not watching me for me, but for someone else.

I spread onto the chair as Kenan takes a line of coke that’s sprinkled on the table. The room is spinning, and when I close my eyes, it worsens.

“You’re up, Queen.” The rolled dollar bill slaps me on the forearm and I shift my eyes to look at him. Sweat is slicked over my face, alcohol cursing so fast through my body I’m seeing stars, and now Kenan is trying to feed me cocaine.

I shake my head, standing from the table. “I don’t need it anymore.”

He clears his nostril. “Must be so nice.”

“It is.” I widen my eyes at him from over my shoulder.

He licks up the remaining line and follows me as I dance my way downstairs. I can’t remember how long it has been since I’ve felt this free. Maybe before my training started. Around the time Eli was still in my life.

I swerve through the sea of people dancing, but any time they see me coming, they part. It’s as though they all try to keep a safe distance from me. Kenan follows close, pulling me into his chest. Grinding against him, we dance and sing song after song. It isn’t until my feet ache and my throat chips from dehydration that I finally drag him out of the club.



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