In Peace Lies Havoc (Midnight Mayhem #1)(27)

I wake before the sun comes up and throw some sweats on. I need to exercise before The Brothers wake up. If that’s what Killian is capable of, then I don’t want to know what the rest of the boys can do—particularly King. Pushing my wireless earbuds into my ears, I push play on “So Far Away” from Martin Garrix and manage to sneak out of the RV undetected. I don’t know where I’m going per se, but I know a little about New York and the surrounding suburbs. My legs carry me toward a track that has a dirt path, which leads God knows where. I sweat it out and run until I can’t feel my limbs and my legs burn. By the time I come back to camp, I’m drenched in sweat, and Delila is marching straight toward me.

I tear out my earbuds.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Dove?”

“What?” I squeeze the pods into the palms of my hands. “I went for a run.”

Delila glares at me. “Well, we will see how much that was a good idea later tonight when it comes to your act. You only train excessively when you have a rest day the day after, which is why most of the crew work out before we come and before we leave. The rest you gain from the show.” She clicks her fingers together, and that same young man comes rushing to her side. “Get the stands ready, please. Aeron and Beat are joining us tonight, and I want to make sure they’re taken care of.” She looks back at me. “Your lack of caring is beginning to get a little unnerving, Dove. Are you a liability?”

“No,” I answer, even though I want to say that I don’t care what she thinks.

Once Delila has disappeared as quickly as she appeared, I find myself walking aimlessly back to the RV. How the hell was I supposed to know that we weren’t allowed to train on the day of a show?

I pause as I come up to the RV, finding King and Killian talking with a few guys I’ve never seen before. They mustn’t be in the show either, or I’m sure I would have noticed them.

Killian hands them a few tickets, before turning his eyes to me. “Where’d you fly off to, Little Bird?”

I scan the new guys with careful eyes. One is absolutely inked, with a pretty enough face to feature on every cover of GQ magazine, one is dark and broody, and reminds me way too much of a certain male I’ve come to know, and the other one I feel uncomfortable even looking at because he’s that scary—but I can’t look away because he’s fucking hot.

Killian catches me staring. “Little Bird.” He gestures to the guys. “Meet Nate, Bishop, and Brantley. A few of my oldest friends. They’re coming to the show tonight.”

King puts a smoke in his mouth and dismisses me. “You can leave now.”

My mouth slams closed as I give the boys a wave. “Nice to meet you.”

Quickly turning back to the RV, I pick up my steps, desperate for a shower. If only the water could wash away the dirty look King just gave me.





The crowd is quiet. I can hear Delila’s voice expand through the speakers, summoning everyone’s attention. If only I could see. I yank on my arms and legs, but I’m tied spread eagle while standing.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Midnight Mayhem.” Welcome to Midnight Mayhem? People should run. “This is neither a circus nor a carnival. This is what happens when the clock strikes twelve and all of the monsters you thought never existed expose themselves.”

Suddenly, there’s a shocked inhale from the audience, and the blindfold, that’s covering my eyes, has light fighting through. I tug on my hands again.

“Sit back, relax, and keep your mind closed. Because if you open it, you don’t know what will creep in.” She ain’t lying.

I hear the loud rumble of a bike. Multiple bikes. I don’t have to hear them to know they’re here. I can feel them, their presence and their power. The crowd cheers, only enticing my fear. I clench my fingers around the rope that’s tied around my wrist, using it as a way to keep myself together. The bikes grow louder and louder until I’m squeezing my eyes shut. Some strangeness washes over me from their deep rumble, but I can’t quite put my finger on why. They’re close now, so close. I can no longer hear the crowd or the heavy metal music. An engine is revved, and then another, and another and another, until I hear them zip forward into what sounds like circles around me. I wonder in the back of my head if they’re on the Harley Davidsons I saw earlier. They were the smaller kind, obviously not road bikes but not pit bikes either. Dust slaps my legs as they continue to go in circles around and around, until suddenly, they stop. The bikes idle in the background, and I feel the palm of who I know is King brush my upper thigh.

“This is Little Bird’s first show,” he calls out through the mic.

I swallow.

His hand moves up past my thigh and over my exposed belly. Delila had me change into black leather shorts and a short leather crop top. My hair is dead straight, and I have enough makeup on my face to make a drag queen envious.

The blindfold is gone, and I’m looking straight toward a spotlight that’s beaming on me. I notice I’m hanging on a wooden board with my arms and feet spread. Before I can think of what it is that I’m doing here, something whips past my belly, sticking to the wall that I’m in front of.

What. The. Fuck.

Another on my other side. It’s then that I notice the black handle of knives.