“Travelling on your own, motherfucker?”
I stiffened. This was why we didn’t go for midnight excursions alone. This was why I had bodyguards and ran a biker gang.
Thieves and vagrants.
Blinking through the pain, I shoved off my handlebars and glared into the night.
Three bikers from the Cannibal Chainmen MC climbed over the wall and landed on the road surrounding me.
Every muscle tightened.
“You.” These arseholes had ambushed our deliveries for years. They knew never to step foot in Buckinghamshire. This was our fucking territory. They belonged in Birmingham—dirty scum.
“Get off our turf,” I snarled, drinking blood and wiping the remainder on the back of my hand. Swinging my leg off my bike, I stood in their circle, turning slowly to inspect each one. “You know the consequences.”
They were lowly ranked members, patched in, but held no position of authority.
“Oh, we know the consequences, alright.” A guy with a shaved head and knuckles wrapped in red tape sneered.
“Messing with the Black Diamonds is a sure way to die.” I spat a wad of blood on the ground, wishing the throb in my skull would fade. “I suggest you fuck off. Our turf. Our rules.”
The biker laughed. “Ah, but if we take out the Vice President of the Blacks, then doesn’t that make itourturf?”
That doesn’t even make sense.Fucking idiots had to take out Cut for that to become a possibility. And that would never happen.
They continued to circle. Even though I was trapped in the centre, I guided them toward the middle of the road—away from the wall and my bike.
I needed open space to win.
I needed silence and darkness and no interruptions.
My hands curled, stretching knuckles and tendons, preparing to fight. I hadn’t been in a battle for months. And...I needed one.
Fuck, I truly did.
I needed something to let off steam. To get rid of everything inside. To finally scream and rage and give into the hatred I never seemed to be free of.
These men had no idea what they’d just walked into.
The intensity I’d lived with all my life remained on a leash, but I slowly let it affect me. Drinking in their violence and bloodlust—I became infected.
In that moment, drenched in moonlight and starshine, I was free.
Free like I was on a polo field. Free like I was when I slid inside Nila.
Fuck, I’ve been so cruel to her.
Away from the Hall and the pressures of my life, I could see clearly. There was no fucking excuse for what I’d become.
“Made your peace, arsehole?” the bald man said, smiling at his two accomplices with dirty brown hair. They slipped out of their jackets, revealing grimy tank tops and tatted arms.
I cracked my neck, smiling with bloody teeth. “Haveyou?”
They laughed.
I laughed.
I moved first.
