New York Crime Kings Box Set: Books 1-4 (22 page)

BOOK: New York Crime Kings Box Set: Books 1-4
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I hope you know what you’re doing.

 

***

 

My lips tremble and my heart thrums in my chest, pounding like the hooves of a horse on a racetrack. The smell of blood invades my nose as it sprays from the cage.

Hell
. That’s where I am. I’m in the deepest, darkest pits of it, surrounded by the festering souls of hardened criminals.

They cheer on the lean man covered in barbed wire tattoos and thick, angry scars—Shadow, is what they call him—while I fight the urge to shield my eyes and block my ears.

Demons
. That’s what these people are.

I flinch as Shadow’s opponent crashes to the canvas and scurries backward on his ass with his bloody palm outstretched, raised in surrender.

“Please!” He begs, blood running from his swollen eye, his crooked nose and his busted mouth. “Don’t kill me.”

Shadow has toyed with him the whole fight, causing the man immense pain and refusing to end it with a simple knock out. The crowd loves it.

Skull loves it.

I detest it. It makes me sick.

I reach out and brush Jai’s arm and he brings his ear to my mouth. While he’s close, I breathe in his scent. It’s warm in my nose...and comforting.

“What’s his name?” I manage to choke out. “The one on the floor.”

He moves his mouth to my ear. “Stefan.”

Shadow slaps Stefan’s begging hand away and swiftly sends a large fist into his nose. The sound of a defeating crack slices down my spine, making me shiver.

More blood.

Stefan’s body shakes with sobs, painfully twisting my heart in my chest. I clench at my ribs and stuff the tip of my thumb into my mouth to gnaw at the skin since my tidy, clipped nails are long gone. The crowd cheers for Shadow, oblivious to the fact one of them will fight him next round. I pity whoever goes up against a monster who has no compassion. To toy with a human being the way he is...I swallow a sob and clench my jaw, pressing my tongue to the roof of my mouth. I won’t cry.

Blood soaks Stefan’s grizzly, brown beard and drips off the ends of its stray hairs. He no longer pleads for his life. His body has accepted defeat. Stefan hangs his head and cries.

Actually. Fucking. Cries.

Hysterically. Begging Shadow for death.

I look up to the ledge only to see Skull beam proudly down at Shadow. Skull and Shadow, a match made in heaven. Skull’s eyes flick from Shadow to me, and I almost flinch at the sight of him. The skull...I’ll never get used to it.

A tear spills from my eye. How can he watch this? How can he be proud of such a maniac? Shadow probably eats baby birds for breakfast and washes them down with newborn tears. How can you trust a man who can take a life for money? Money makes him loyal. Not respect.

Skull runs his pink, glistening tongue over his bottom lip and smiles a full smile.

I look away. I
hate
him.

“What’s wrong with her?” I hear the low tone of a husky female voice ask.

Ava.
Great
.

I swipe at the tear that spills down my cheek. Jai turns sideways to talk to Ava and that’s when I move. Unexpected, pent up rage boils in my blood and seeps from my pores. The wire structure in front of me shakes as Shadow parades around the cage like he deserves the cheers that chant his name. As I march, I hear people talk. They refer to Shadow as God. He’s no God. He’s a brute with an anger problem. Don’t get it twisted. I’m terrified of him, but I’m more terrified for Stefan. If he’s going to die today, he should die knowing someone cares...that someone defended him and cried for him in his last few moments.

I shove my way through the crowd, dodging hands and catching stray elbows. None of them notice me, they’re too caught up in the moment, and I make it to the railing that separates me from the cage and a long drop to my death in no time.

“Emily!” Jai calls out from somewhere behind me.

I barely hear it over the cheering and chanting.

“Stefan!” I shout, gripping the railing tighter. It turns warm under my sweaty palms. “Stefan, look at me!”

As he lifts his head in my direction, I try hard not to puke. One eye is swollen shut and the other...my chest heaves. His sclera is no longer white. It’s a red so dark that it blends with his black pupil. He struggles to breathe, struggles to move...he must be petrified.

“It’s okay.” I tell him, offering a genuine smile. “You’re going to be just fine.”

“Just fine?” Shadow booms. He tosses his head back and exposes his teeth as he laughs a heavy laugh.

I ignore him, keeping my eyes on Stefan. He watches me back as he focuses on breathing. Tears from his eyes merge with the blood, creating pale red streaks along his cheeks. Surely his vital organs are filling with blood...I give him ten more minutes before his body goes into shock.

Shadow crouches beside Stefan and I finally lift my gaze to his face. Stefan whimpers and closes his eye as Shadow fists his brown, curly hair and yanks his head back. Slowly, I drag my stare to Skull. I didn’t realize it until now that the room is silent.

“You call this a fight? There’s no fairness in this,” I shout up at Skull.

Gasps and whispers break out behind me and I realize in this moment that I’ve fucked up. Dread; heavy curls of it seize my chest, but I don’t let it cross onto my features. I’m a dead girl walking on borrowed time anyway.

Fuck them all for being so afraid, for being sheep. In a room full of experienced fighters, how am I the strongest? Not physically of course. My strength doesn’t come from developed biceps or hard quadriceps. It comes from within. Unlike their bodies, my strength is unbreakable.

Untouchable.

Skull glares down at me. His jaw ticking underneath his ink. I look at Shadow. He’s sneering at me, his beady black eyes sending chills down my spine.

I square my shoulders and angle my chin up. “You’re weak.”

More gasps.

More whispers.

“Weak?” He repeats.

And I nod.

Shadow tosses his head back and howls with laughter. The tops of his teeth are spotted with decay, others covered with little silver caps. Unexpectedly, he snaps toward the cage with a snarl. I yelp and stumble backward only to be caught by two strong arms.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jai demands in a harsh whisper.

He squeezes me hard against his body and pulls me back a few feet. I don’t take my eyes from Shadow, who laughs and laughs at the fright he gave me. I glare at him as he pushes himself to his feet and positions himself behind Stefan’s back. With a creepy, wide-lipped smile he slides one long-fingered hand underneath Stefan’s chin and places the other on the top of his head.

I take the time to blink for a second longer than I should, and when I open my eyes, Shadow glances up at Skull who nods his head.

My heart breaks.

More tears fall.

Stefan struggles to make eye-contact, but when he finally does, he offers me the tiniest smile.

Then, with a loud, blood-curdling crack, he’s gone.

Dead.

And just like that…Stefan no longer exists.

My vision blurs and I hold my breath as my stare falls to the ground. Tears collect on the tips of my eyelashes and drip in slow-motion onto the ground. The room stays quiet—or at least I think it does. Shock has apprehended my body and my brain. I don’t think I’d even register if someone was screaming directly into my ear right now. I feel Jai, though. The warmth of his body exudes over me, wrapping me in a protective blanket. His dry lips plant sympathetic kisses on my face—my cheeks, my jaw, my lips, and my forehead, too. I hear the rumble of his voice echo through me like a train rolling slowly through a deserted station, but his words are unclear, muted by the trauma I just witnessed.

Then hands grab at me and my senses come back, smashing into me with the weight of a wrecking ball behind them. The noise comes first; the raucous cheering and screaming. It electrifies me back into a state of awareness. I lift my head and everything in my line of sight returns to a normal pace for a split second…before it escalates dramatically in the blink of an eye.

Thick, calloused fingers barely manage to brush the collar of my pale pink t-shirt before Jai snaps forward, his fist connecting with the man’s jaw. The sickening thump and the tiny drop of saliva on my arm is enough to make me shudder. Jai stands firm between the man and me, and as he cradles his bleeding mouth, still reeling in shock, I recognize him. Jim. He’s one of Skull’s main men and a man who’d almost backhanded me in the face.

Jai is ready for him, and I doubt that Jim has gone up against anyone as magnificent as Jai. His broad shoulders are squared and his fists tighten and release, clench and relax.

“Stop playing with Stone and grab the girl, will you?” Skull shouts from his ledge.

I look up in time to see him turn and enter his little doorway, and that’s when I feel harsh, aggressive hands curl around my biceps, squeezing firmly. Jai glances over his shoulder, his angered blue eyes zeroing in on the hands seizing me. His jaw clenches and relaxes periodically, as they wait for him to make his move. He drags his glare from my arms to my face and I subtly shake my head. Don’t risk it all for me. It’s not worth it.

It’s as if he reads my mind. His eyes soften, and his lips droop ever so slightly at the corners. When Skull’s men shove me forward, Jai lowers his head and lets them pass. As I pass Jim, he swipes a large, hairy arm over his mouth, collecting a dribble of blood. Behind me, I hear him spit a mouthful of it, and if that’s not enough to turn my stomach, the entrance to Skull’s little dungeon up ahead does the trick. For the second time tonight, my heart races, crashing into my ribs and spilling a poisonous fear into my organs. My legs threaten to lock up and my breath blows strong, while my lungs are barely keeping up.

“You’re in for a world of pain, bitch.”

 

***

 

“Ugn!” I grunt.

Heat, fast and sharp, seers across my cheekbone as the dirty, concrete floor rushes up to meet me. I just manage to get my hands out in time to stop my face from merging with the cement. Tears well in my eyes. Broken pieces of stone and glass dig into the palms of my hands and shred my exposed knees. I clench my jaw, desperately willing myself not to cry. That’s what Skull wants and I won’t give it to him.

He crouches low, twisting his strong hands through my hair and clenching them into an angry fist. Pain sears over my scalp and I hiss through clenched teeth. Skull tugs on my hair, snapping my head back and forcing me to look directly into his face. His skull is disgusting.

He is disgusting.

From the pocket of his dark gray slacks, he produces a small, silver dagger and as he shoves it to my face, I see my pathetic reflection within it.

“You made me look weak, Kitten, and I don’t like looking weak.”

I rake my teeth over my bottom lip, doing anything I can to distract myself from the pulsating, rhythmic pain that slices across my cheek

“Stefan didn’t have to die.”

He frowns and the ‘bones’ of his tattoo crease as his forehead pinches together. “Who?”

As I open my mouth the door is kicked open and it slams against the wall. I hear heavy shoes and the unmistakable sound of something lifeless and stout being dragged across the concrete. My heart aches, bleeding into my ribs. His body enters my peripheral vision, feet first, and then he’s dumped less than six feet from me. His glazed eyes are barren, his skin seemingly fake. To think that he was alive not so long ago...I swallow hard and bring my stare back to Skull. It bothers me less.

Skull smirks and points to the broken man on the floor. “Oh, him? He’s a meth dealer. Forget about it.”

Forget about it, he says, like it’s no big deal. Stefan is a human being. He’s probably someone’s brother—someone’s father. Once upon a time he was a little baby boy that an adoring mother held to her breast.

“Dealer or not. He’s still a human being. You had no right to murder him. If he was such a bad person, you should’ve let the justice system deal with it.”

His smirk pulls wide, morphing into a black grin, and he withdraws his shiny dagger from my face and taps it on his lower lip. “The justice system?” He laughs once, untwisting my hair from his fingers with a shove my head. “You still don’t know?”

I frown. Know?

“The justice system is a ruse, Kitty-Kat. It’s a joke—a joke that keeps frightened people like you in line.”

“I disagree.”

“Oh really?” He stands up, rubbing his chin with his freaky tattooed hand, and beams at his goons. “This. Is. Gold.”

He turns back to me. “Fact: not even the people who uphold this so-called ‘justice’ system—let’s say, cops, for example—have faith in the system. All it takes is one teeny, tiny incident and they take matters into their own hands. They become a vigilante, of sorts.” He crouches low again, leaning in to my face. “Why, you ask? Because they. Don’t. Trust. The justice system. I could slaughter every single person down here and no community leader, politician, fucking cop, judge, or even the President of the United fucking States will give a shit, and you wanna know why?”

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