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CHAPTER TEN
KAOS
Ibounce from foot to foot, sizing up the man on the other side of the ring as he does the same to me. After my altercation with Bishop and Crew this morning, I needed to let off some steam, and if that meant beating the shit out of some poor asshole who chose the wrong night to fight at the club, then that’s just how it was going to have to be.
I step forward, intending to throw the first punch, but he catches me off guard with a quick jab to the jaw. Pain radiates through my face, and for a second, it’s blinding, but I quickly right myself, keeping my target locked as I continue to move around the ring.
The roar of the crowd is a distant background noise as I allow my body to do what it was designed to do.
I pounce on the asshole, my fists landing in quick succession. Blood splatters across the ring, and I don’t bother to stifle the moan that climbs up the back of my throat. I fucking love this shit. I need it.
He barely catches himself from falling on his ass as crimson drips down over his hazel eyes, giving me another advantage. Some fighters hit to win, and I get it. It’s a good strategy, hell, it’s the fucking point. But when you’ve been fighting all your life the way I have, you know you should weaken your opponent first, and what better way than inhibiting his sight?
I allow him a few seconds to gain his composure. What would be the fun in ending the fight so soon? But the second he recovers, I’m on him like a lion on his prey.
My fist slams into his stomach, stealing the wind straight from his lungs, and when he bends slightly to try to drag in a breath, I shove him down into my rising knee, tearing a rough shout from his throat.
By the time he hits the mats, we’re both covered in his blood, and he doesn’t attempt to get up. The rush of the fight is short-lived, and when I climb between the ropes, the euphoric feeling has all but left me.
I think about sticking around for another fight, but that’s not the only reason I came here tonight. The others may think I’m sitting around doing nothing to bring Camilla home, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. This is the first real break I’ve taken since the moment I carried her into that fucking cell, despite what they may think.
I wipe the fucker’s blood from my knuckles, taking note of the splits in the skin stretched over them. It’s less than I deserve for the mess I’ve landed us in, but it will do for now.
Without looking back, I cross to the bar and slip into the back room where we occasionally do business. We tend to use the Scarlet Lounge more, but right now I’m not ready for Crew to know what I’m up to, and he and Elias are as close to friends as men like us get.
Kegs and liquor bottles line the walls, but there’s a small table in the middle of the room that the few staff we have here use for breaks. I take one of the seats and position myself facing the door. This could go wrong in one of a million ways, but I’m past caring.
I need to help.
I need to do something.
I tap my fingers on the table rhythmically, the nervous energy coursing through my body making it impossible to sit still. This is why I got in the ring before this meeting, I thought it would help, but all it seemed to do was make me more heightened than before.
It’s only a few minutes before the man I’m meeting shoves through into the back room, and I’m staring into cold blue eyes.
Knox Davenport is as far from warm as you can get, his reputation on the streets as a cold-blooded killer was well and truly earned. Getting him here to meet me was half the battle, and the rest is in front of me.
“What do you want, Kaos?” he grunts, his arms folded across his broad chest. He’s one of the only men I’ve met that rivals my size, and not for the first time, I wonder which of us would come out on top in a fight.
“I have a proposition for you,” I say, leaning back in my seat and forcing the tension from my body.
He glares at me but doesn’t immediately turn to leave, which means I have his attention.
“Do you like being your uncle’s lackey?”
“Do you?” He raises a brow.
I chuckle. “You and I both know the Syndicate doesn’t work like that. We all have a role, and we do it well.”
“If you say so.” Knox shrugs, his face completely impassive the same way mine would be in his position, which kind of pisses me off.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He sighs and moves farther into the room. He drags a chair farther back from me and then takes a seat with his back to the kegs. “No. I don’t particularly enjoy dealing with Charles’s bullshit. He’s going to get us all killed if he keeps up some of the vendettas he’s creating.”
“You mean his attempts to overthrow us?” I tilt my head to the side with a raised brow. He’s talking more than I think I’ve ever heard, and I don’t want to give him a chance to close up before I can get the information I need.
He nods once. “Among other things.”
