In Peace Lies Havoc (Midnight Mayhem #1)(79)



I chuckle. “I’ll come home for a visit sooner than you think.” A thought pops into my head. “Actually, hopefully sooner than I think.”

“To work?” I can hear the question in his tone even though he knows the answer already.

I blow out a breath of air. “Is it too late to hand in my resignation?”

“It’s a strip club, Dove. You don’t need that.” I flinch at that name.

“There’s so much I have to tell you, but my name is actually Perse.”

Silence.

“So Dove was your stripper name?”

I laugh out loud, my hand coming to my mouth.

“Girl, stop laughing at me. I can’t spank your ass when you’re all the way over the fuck wherever you are.”

“I’m,” my chest tightens, “a little bit away. I’ll give you a call tonight with more details, ’kay?”

He grunts, which is Richard’s way of saying yes. He could write an entire dictionary and translations from grunts to meanings.

Hanging up the phone, I decide to seek out Delila to help me find my recruits. I want to throw myself into dance and my act, and build what I know and what takes away the pain. Pain. Picking up my hoodie, I head back to The Brothers’ RV and get started on packing up my things. It’s funny now that I have my memories back how I know the simplest things that I didn’t know before, like The Brothers of Arms emblem, or the “weird star” I once called it. Each point signifies the suburbs in Kiznitch, and the thick lines that make up the star represent the generations of blood. One day I hope to go back there, maybe learn about my heritage, but right now, I need to move into my RV.




“I think that’s everything, which isn’t much, but you know…”

Rose laughs, picking up one of my boxes and making her way out in front of me. “Have you seen your RV yet? It’s fucking red. As in your hair.”

“I’ve seen the outside.” And it’s hard not to since it’s right behind the boys’ RV. Too close for my liking, but at least I’m out of their hair. I haven’t seen King in days, or any of the boys. It’s as though after that night, they’ve all gone ghost. I feel sick to my stomach about everything that has happened, but at the pit of my stomach holds mine and King’s bond. The organic love I have for him. I know I somewhat miss them all to an extent, but I can’t get past the taste of betrayal that King has left in my mouth after his final lick of defeat.

The memories are good. I welcome them, but what I don’t, and what I wasn’t prepared for, was the emotion that came with them. Memories aren’t like photographs. You can’t just flip over them and admire their vivid detail. You have to inhale the same air, embrace the same feelings, and whiff the same scent.

I push the key into the lock and swing the door open.

“Wow,” I whisper, stepping inside as Rose piles in behind me with Maya behind her.

“This is sweet! You know, I can totally slide into your act if you want.” Maya shoves me playfully on the arm while blazing up a joint.

I think over what she has just said, obviously playing with the idea in my head.

“I was kidding,” Maya says, her eyes flying between Rose and me. “Tell her I was kidding.”

“What’s wrong with being in my act?” I scold her, dropping the box onto the white marble kitchen counter. “I happen to think my act is going to be pretty fantastic.”

Maya chuckles, shaking her head. “I’ve come to love you, Sef, but I can’t be living with someone who uses words like ‘fantastic’.” I ignore her new nickname for me, bringing it down to Maya and her peculiar personality.

I flip her off as she disappears up the stairs. “Of course she furnished it,” Maya calls out. “Sometimes I hate her.”

My eyebrows raise at Rose.

Rose shakes her head. “I’ll explain later. We are having a housewarming, aren’t we?”

I shrug. “I don’t see why not.” I want to talk with Rose about everything that has happened, but I don’t know when or how.

I climb the stairs and examine the bedrooms. Mine being the master room. It’s much like the boys’ RV, with my room being where King’s is. Soft pink covers are on the bed with gloss white posts where the bed sits in the middle.

“I was joking,” Maya interrupts my examining. “I mean, as much as it would be an honor to come into whatever you’re about to begin—”

“Stop.” I bring my hand up, stopping her. “You don’t need to say any more, Maya. I know.”

She stares at me, her almond eyes coming to mine. “It’s not that. It’s that I’ve always had my own act because…” She stops, and for the first time since I’ve known her, I watch as she cowers slightly. She exhales. “My mother. She’s, well, persistent.”

I lean against the doorframe, my arms coming to my chest. “Who’s your mom?”

Maya blushes, and I almost feel bad for asking. “Well…” Her hand comes up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “It’s Delila, actually.” She rolls her eyes.

I lean back, shocked. “Your mom is Delila?”

“Yup!” Her eyes slant. “Don’t judge me for that either. My old man was much cooler.”

Amo Jones's Books