Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(4)
Now the real worst-case scenario—dying in this fucking alley—is about to become his reality.
He stood between me and the last name on my list. And I don’t forgive shit like that.
2
GAGE
THE MUSIC from the main part of the club is more muted at the back. We had the office areas soundproofed just enough that we can hear ourselves think while we go over business and shit, but not so much that a riot could break out on the dance floor or something and we wouldn’t be able to hear it.
Sin and Salvation is one of the most popular clubs in this part of Detroit, so shit gets pretty rowdy and trouble could pop off at any time—something we do our best to keep from happening. It’s good to be able to keep an eye on things even when we’re not out there in the thick of it.
My three best friends and business partners are here too, sprawled over furniture or leaning up against the walls, relaxed the way they always are when we’re in our domain.
The club is a legit business, but we also use it as a front for money laundering, working with various shady organizations in the city. We talk business in the back room while the bartenders and bouncers run the club for us most of the time.
The thumping base line pulses loud enough that we can hear it and feel it from the dance floor, and Ash taps his foot along with the beat. He’s draped over a chair in a sprawl that looks uncomfortable as fuck. But he’s like that. As long as it makes him look good, he doesn’t care too much about the rest. He runs his hand through his brown hair before adjusting his glasses, shifting his gaze from me to Knox.
We’ve been discussing a possible new business deal with a local biker gang, but we haven’t gotten very far since we’re split on whether to move ahead with it or not.
“I say we do it,” Knox puts in about the issue at hand.
No one’s surprised by that. He’s always ready to leap into something dangerous, even if it’s fucking stupid. Maybe even more if it’s fucking stupid. He’s always looking for a challenge, for a chance to test his limits and see if he can come out on top even if the odds are against him. With the way he’ll do anything to get what he wants, the odds are rarely stacked that high against him.
Still, we can’t just rush into something without thinking about it first.
“We need more info,” Priest says, arms folded where he’s leaning up against the wall. His light blue eyes are hooded, and he looks bored with the conversation already, but I know he’s got his focus on everything that’s going on. He doesn’t raise his voice, but it cracks through the room anyway with its usual cold precision.
“Really? Knox, wait for more info?” Ash teases, his amber eyes glinting with amusement. “You have met Knox, right? He heard ‘smuggling guns’ and probably came in his pants from the excitement of it.” He sits up and pulls a playing card from his pocket, fidgeting with it in a clear sign that he’s ready for this meeting to be over so he can go off and do something else. Someone else, more likely. He flips the card back and forth in his hand, making it disappear and reappear at will.
“It’s dangerous,” Priest fires back, cutting his gaze toward Knox. “We don’t know enough about them or who they’re working with. We don’t want to get tangled up in some bad blood that has nothing to do with us. The money isn’t worth it if it brings trouble down on our heads.”
It’s one of the longer strings of words Priest has put together in recent memory. Usually, he’s a fan of speaking as few words as possible, so I know he’s serious about being cautious.
“Yeah, I know it’s dangerous,” Ash returns with a grin. “That’s why Knox is so horny for it. It’s just more fun if things go south. The chance to take down a whole biker gang for fucking with us?” He makes a jacking off gesture with the hand that’s not playing with the card.
Knox doesn’t deny any of that or look upset about being talked about like he’s not there. He paces the center of the room with a hungry look on his face and a feral smile. He always gets twitchy when there hasn’t been any action for a while. You’d only need to look at him, big and burly and covered in scars and tattoos, to know he’s the type who doesn’t shy away from danger and always walks away from whatever decides to fuck with him.
“I don’t care about the guns,” I tell them, making them all look to me again. “I don’t know if the Diamond Devils can be trusted.” I tip my head to Priest, acknowledging his point. “If they’re tangled up in some shit we’d rather avoid, then it’s not worth it.”
“They’re low stakes,” Knox says, waving a hand. “If they try something, we’ll make ’em regret it. Simple.”
Ash points to Knox with a gesture that’s a clear I told you so. He’s got his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the tattoos on his forearm ripple over his muscles as he plays with the card. We’ve all got tats, although none of us ever got quite as addicted to ink as Knox.
“Everything’s simple to you,” Priest says, ignoring Ash and rolling his eyes. His voice is cold and cutting. He knows Knox well, so the sharpness in his tone isn’t even really directed at him—it’s just how Priest sounds all the time.
Knox shrugs, not bothered by the implication or tone one bit. “Someone fucks with me, I make ’em disappear. Simple,” he says back, drawing out the word with a grin. “You think I’m scared of the fucking Diamond Devils? They’re small fry, and they wouldn’t know what hit ’em if we decided to take them out.”