Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(76)

“You’re too bossy for your own damn good,” I tell him. “I’m not one of your employees for you to be giving orders to like this. What if I don’t want to go anywhere?”

He tilts his head back and tugs at his lower lip, probably trying to keep his irritation under control. “Do you have to be combative about everything?” he snaps. “Will you just go do it?”

“Fine,” I relent, rolling my eyes right back at him.

I take my sweet time about it though, throwing on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and slipping my feet into comfortable shoes. I have no idea where the fuck Gage is taking me, but I’m not getting dressed up all fancy for it.

When I get back downstairs, they’re all waiting for me, and we all pile into one car—Knox’s, because it’s bigger. I end up wedged in the back between Priest and Ash, confused and curious as fuck.

When Gage said ‘we’ were going somewhere, I didn’t think he meant all of us. What the hell is going on?

If it’s club business, there wouldn’t be a reason for me to come along, and if it has something to do with Ivan, Gage probably would have told me that from the get-go. And we probably wouldn’t all be making the field trip if it was to do recon. There’s nothing inconspicuous about four big dudes and one woman with silver hair stalking around somewhere.

Instead of going somewhere appropriately shady, we end up in what looks like a strip mall, driving around to the back side where there’s a field with a building out front.

Bright Wars, it says in big letters on the front, and I frown, blinking in surprise. It’s clearly a place to play paintball, and I have no idea what the fuck we’re doing here.

We all pile out of the car, and everyone other than me seems relaxed and in the know, so I guess I’m just going to have to ask if I want to find out what the fuck is going on.

“Why are we here?” I ask Gage, getting right to the point.

He shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe I thought you needed more practice aiming a fucking gun,” he says easily.

I punch him in the arm hard enough that I know he’ll feel it and get the message. I expect him to snarl or get all huffy, but instead he just laughs, surprising the hell out of me.

We cross the parking lot and head inside. Gage goes to the counter to get us all signed in or whatever, and Knox comes to stand next to me.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks, hands shoved into his pockets. He’s wearing a dark gray t-shirt that hugs the broad muscles of his chest and shoulders. “Like when you were younger or something?”

I shake my head. “No, never. When I was younger, I was too busy…” I trail off, then repeat lamely, “I was too busy.”

That’s basically a complete sentence on its own, and I’m not about to spill the rest of my messed up past in the middle of fucking Bright Wars, of all places. I was too busy being held captive, assaulted, and tortured. If someone had handed me a paintball gun back then, I would have tried to figure out a way to kill people with it, and they would have deserved it.

Knox just shrugs, clearly not bothered by the parts left unsaid. “I didn’t either, when I was younger. I was too busy, too. So I get it.”

I remember what he said about killing his uncle and figure that yeah, he probably does get it.

“It’s fun as hell though,” he continues. He drags his hands out of his pockets to interlace his fingers and stretch them out, making the tattoos on his arms ripple a little as muscles move beneath his skin. “Although it would be more fun with real guns.”

I just roll my eyes at that. Typical Knox.

The attendant is a bored looking teenage boy who shows us where the gear is, and we go for it, strapping on pads and masks to keep us from getting too badly hurt. I guess even paint balls launched at high speed can leave a mark.

Knox hands me a gun, and I heft it, getting a feel for the weight of it. Not so different from a real gun.

I’ve never done this before, but I’m a quick study and an even quicker shot. It’ll be a piece of cake.

We spread out through the field, taking an every man for himself kind of approach at first. There are trees and brush to hide in, and they really have it set up in a tactical way, so people can get as into it as they want to.

I get into it.

I find a patch of brush and flatten myself down into it, watching the four of them chase each other around. When Ash gets too close to my hiding spot, calling some taunt to Gage, I let him have it with a quick round, hitting the back of his thigh and then popping him once more right in the ass, leaving blue and purple paint splatters where I hit.

He turns around quickly, eyes scanning for where the shots came from, but he doesn’t find me.

I’m actually a great shot, fuck Gage very much.

Every time one of them gets close enough, I let them have it. Soon enough my spot is compromised, and I slip deeper into the trees, letting the shade hide me better.

I can feel them looking for me, splitting up to make it easier, while also trying to get each other too.

It’s survival of the fittest in a way, blurring the lines between a game and a real hunt. Between violence and fun.

I can hear Ash cursing up a storm and Knox laughing hysterically somewhere in the distance, so I know Knox must be laying waste to anyone who gets too close to him.

I clock them as being a few hundred feet to my left, so unless they come barreling right into me, I should be fine. I stay put, watching, listening.