Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(101)

These kinds of parties are all about networking, spreading your influence and trying to get other people in your pocket. The criminal underworld is all about who you know, and anybody who’s worth knowing will be at this gala. A lot of handshake deals happen at fancy parties like this one.

There’s a lot of dirty money in Detroit that needs a place to go, and now that Ivan is off our backs, we can work on expanding our reach.

I helpfully don’t point out that the only reason Ivan St. James is a thing of the past is because of River. Her plan worked, even after Gage grumbled about it being a bad idea. In the end, she’s the reason we can feel comfortable moving on and pushing for more in our business dealings, without having to worry about St. James’s trumped up ass trying to horn in on our good thing.

Gage is still grumbling when I head downstairs. He’s dressed up and ready to go, arms folded and scowl firmly in place. Priest and Knox are ready, too. Knox looks excited, and there’s no question as to why, and Priest looks… well, like Priest. In a tux. No expression on his face to let anyone know one way or another how he feels about any of this.

I half expected him to be excited that River’s gone now, but then again, I have no idea how he really feels about her. Neither does he, probably. He’s been quieter than usual since she left, not really talking to anyone.

“Let’s go,” Gage bites out. “We’re not going to be late because of this.”

“It’s called being fashionably late for a reason, Gage,” I tell him with a little smile. “Only nerds and people trying too hard show up on time.”

He just glares at me, and I shrug in response. We all head out to the car, piling in. Gage and Priest are up front, and Knox and I take the back. Knox asks if Gage needs directions to River’s place, and Gage ignores him, starting the car and taking us out of our neighborhood and toward the shittier part of town.

It’s not as bad as the slums or anything, but it’s definitely easy to tell that rough shit goes down in this area. There are already people on corners, dealing drugs or asking for money or whatever, as we roll past.

The drive is quiet.

Gage is glaring at the road like it did something to offend him, while Knox looks comfortable, fiddling with his cufflinks and looking out the window. Priest looks like he’s made of stone, practically. He’s shut down in a way he hasn’t been since right after Jade died, and I can’t help but be a little worried about him.

We pull up to a rundown apartment building that has definitely seen better days but was probably a piece of shit when it was new. Some places are just like that.

Gage leans on the horn a little, and I roll my eyes.

“Have you never picked a woman up for a gala before?” I ask him. “You can’t just honk and wait.”

“This isn’t prom, Ash,” he snaps. “We’re not her fucking dates.”

I shake my head and get out of the car, leaning against the side of it to wait. Knox and Priest do the same, and Gage stays stubbornly behind the wheel, determined to keep having his little tantrum.

Well, whatever.

I glance at Priest, but there’s still nothing there. He’s checking out the building, looking around at the cars and the few people coming and going, but it’s like there’s nothing behind his eyes at all.

At least, not until the front door of the building opens and River comes walking out.

It’s almost funny, seeing her dressed to the nines in a sparkly black gown that looks fucking stunning on her, walking out of a shit hole place like this. The dress has a shimmer to it, as well as sparkly beads or something along the bodice. It’s sleeveless, showing off her shoulders and the tattoos that snake along her arms. It clings to her body in all the right ways, showing off her chest and her hips and then skimming down her legs just long enough to make you wonder about them. Her silver hair flows over her shoulders and down her upper back in soft waves. She’s done her makeup and has on some killer black heels, and all of us straighten up and take notice.

Something flares in Priest’s eyes for a second before he shutters it away again, and Knox looks like he wants to throw her down on the hood of the car and take her right here and now.

I can’t say I blame him for that. She’s gorgeous as hell, looking like a goddess even here in the parking lot of this shitty place.

She checks us out right back as she makes her way across the street to the car, and it’s kind of crazy how I can feel the change in all of us, just having her here with us again. It’s like we suddenly know which way is up again. Like we’re all pointed in her direction, where before we were spinning out of control or something.

It’s weird, but I’m not complaining.

A sharp bark from above is the only thing that yanks our gazes away from River, and I look up to a window on the third floor where her fucking dog has his paws up on the window sill. He barks again, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Shut the fuck up,” Knox says, laughing. “She’s ours for the night.”

I snort at the idea that he’s jealous of her damn dog of all things, but I guess out of all of us, Knox has had the hardest time dealing with River being gone. At least on the surface. He’s the one who hunted her down to invite her to this thing, anyway.

“Don’t yell at Jon Snow,” River says, finally close enough that we can hear her. “It’s not his fault you’re dragging me to this thing.”