Pulling up to the building just after dark, I cut the engine on my car and get out. Reading the wrought iron sign hanging on the wall, I see it used to be a nunnery. I parked a little farther away and walk so I can watch from a distance as everyone arrives, but there isn’t much to see without going inside. The nunnery has a brick wall at least twelve feet high all the way around it, so unless I go through the gate, all I can see are dark shadows.
I look around me. The flutter of nerves similar to those I get just before a fight tremble in my stomach, making me aware of everything I have to lose if this is some sick joke someone’s playing on me.
I light a cigarette to steady my nerves as a large hand comes down on my shoulder, making me drop my cigarette and reach around to grab whoever it is. I’ve got them in a headlock before their next breath, and he’s tapping out on my arm as I squint down into his face.
“Sebastian?” I scowl. “What the fuck are you doing here? Did you fucking follow me?” I tighten my grip as he grins up at me. He taps on my arm again, and I let go and shove him away. So much for my discreet entrance. “I asked you a fucking question,” I grit out, feeling the pull of rage in my chest.
“Guess we’re both interested in The…Elite,” he says with a smirk as the color in his face turns back to a normal shade. He pushes his hair back and starts fiddling with his watch. His eyes are wide with excitement, not an ounce of nervousness or apprehension.
Fucker is crazy, that’s for damn certain. I knew something was a little off with him earlier today, and now I get it. I see it in his freaky green eyes and the way he doesn’t even seem fazed by me almost choking him out.
“You know about The Elite?” I ask, my eyes narrowing. It’s all too fucking convenient. I don’t believe in fate or chance, and I’m not about to start believing in it now.
“Of course I know about them. I see fucking everything in this town.” He reaches down, picks up my cigarette, and offers it to me, but I shove away his hand.
“You expect me to believe that? What are the chances of that?”
“Of what?” he asks.
“Of running into you twice in one day. The second time here.” I gesture around us as I fight the anger bubbling inside me. “At a top secret society.”
Sebastian taps the side of his nose and leans in. “First rule of fight club is you don’t talk about fight club.” He glances over to the gates as another shadow slips inside. “Come on. Don’t wanna miss all the fun, do we?” he says with sarcasm as he starts to walk away.
When I don’t immediately follow, he looks back over his shoulder. “Samuel, this is our big chance. Don’t blow it by being a suspicious motherfucker like usual.” Then he turns and walks away again.
I stare around us. The evening is dark. A sliver of moon slips out from between the clouds, but all too quickly passes back behind them as the wind picks up.
“Fuck it,” I mutter, starting toward the walkway.
This is it.
I’m in.
I’m in the fucking Elite.
Everything I’ve done over the past couple months has been leading up to this moment. Every dollar earned with every fist thrown, every bloody knuckle and bruise—it’s all been for this. For my title—Wrath. And my title couldn’t be anymore fucking perfect for me.
I’m still in a daze thinking about it when I realize the guy Baxter, whom I overheard one of the other guys call God, is speaking. He’s standing next to Pride with a card in his hand, but I missed what he said.
Sebastian leans over. “Sins of the body, huh? This should be fun.”
“Sins of the body?” I ask.
He grins wider. “To bond the brotherhood, we have to indulge in the sins of the body. I’d say this secret society is starting out just perfect, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I would.”
“Unless we have to fuck each other, that is,” he laughs. “I ain’t taking dick for no one.” He punches me in the arm lightly. “Not even for you, brother,” he says as he raises his eyebrows and stalks away.
Sins of the body—sex.
Other than fighting, sex is my domain. My dark domain. I like my sex like I like my fights—dark, bloody, and full of cries of pain.
I wonder how my so-called new brothers are going to feel about that. Deep down, we all have dark desires, but none are as dark as my own, and most don’t act on those urges. But I’m not most people.
I’m Samuel “The Machine” motherfucking Gunner. Wretched brother to a twin sister, shameful son to a dead mother, an undefeated champion in the ring, and a master of sin in the bedroom.
I’m not sure what was in the chalice we drank from when we arrived, but whatever it had been was spiked. I’ve taken enough drugs to know the difference between drunk and high, and I was most-definitely fucking high. High enough not to worry about what my newfound brothers would think of my dark desires anymore.
