Page 177

Story: Princes of Chaos

“No,” she moves closer, taking off her gloves one hand at a time. “Something’s wrong.”

I catch her scent under the permeating smell of soil. Normally being this close to a woman, being this close toher, would have me hard, but my dick hasn’t even twitched. Jesus. I really am tired. Tired of everything.

I begin, “Do you…”

“Do I what?” she asks when I don’t finish the question.

Shifting uneasily, I ask, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like not to live in this world? Under these rules and standards? Being forced into positions we don’t want?” Her mother isn’t Royalty, but she has power and standing in their community. “If we were just normal people with normal lives instead of being caught up in all this chaos?”

She laughs. “I have no idea what a life without chaos would look like. I grew up in a gym as the only child of a woman that played mama bear to dozens of wild cubs who settled everything with their fists. Anything could start a fight; taking the last brownie, sleeping with another guy’s girl, trying to pull rank…” She rolls her eyes, but I see a warmth in her eyes at the memory. “It drove my mom crazy, but after one particularly bloody fight during Family Dinner, she had enough. A system was set into place.”

None of this is surprising. DKS is filled with wild animals pretending to be men. “What kind of system?”

“If you want to fight,” she says, shrugging, “you do it in the ring.”

I blink. “What are you talking about, Red?”

Her gaze burns into mine. “ControlledChaos, Wicker. Disputes, betrayals, positions, girls… everything is solved in the ring. You want to stake a claim over someone’s cutslut? You win her in the ring–and keep the blood off my mother’s dinner table.”

I snort but the wheels are turning. “To the victor and all that shit.”

“Yep.” She worries her lip for a moment, resting a hand on my knee. “So what’s going on? Did something happen?”

Nothing’s happened–not yet. Not if I can help it.

“Controlled chaos, huh?” I peel her fingers off and stand. “I won’t be in your room at midnight.”

“But,” she looks up at me, stunned, “you’re always in my room at midnight.”

I give her a tight smile, finally giving in to the impulse to brush that stray lock of hair off her cheek, pushing it behind her ear. “Get a good night’s rest, Red.”

I walk off feeling the weight of the next day heavy on my shoulders, but at least now I have an idea of what I need to do.

Northridge Tech and Forsyth University’shockey programs have a rivalry that dates back to the stone age or some shit. They’re a newer city up north, while Forsyth has a more rich, storied history. The whole thing is horribly cliché, but there’s nothing Forsyth loves more than one of those.

The stands are a sea of purple and gold, and from the second I face-off against their team captain, Verne Weller, I know it’s going to be a wild game.

“How’s Theresa?” I ask, poised for the ref to drop the puck. “That is her name, right? I’m bad at remembering. Tracey? Tina?”

The puck drops and I easily snatch it with the blade of my stick, slapping it toward Pace, who pumps his leg to skate it down the ice.

The next face-off, Verne barely looks shaken.

“She still got that navel piercing?” I ask, sensing Pace’s presence close by. “I hope so. It’s hot.”

Verne just stares at the ice, waiting for the puck. “You’re not gonna shake me, Ashby.”

He wins the puck this time, making me curse as I chase his left wing down.

I’m annoyed by the third face-off. The first period is almost over. “You know the best way to make your girl come?Anal.” Smirking, I boast, “Yeah, she loves it in the ass. Screamed my name for thirty minutes straight. Kinda like her boyfriend did that one time.”

The puck lands and Verne wins it, eyes dead focused as he shoots for our net.

Pace, Lex, and I bunked with him during a tournament in high school, so I know he’s a level-headed guy, far too steady to send off-balance with something as minor as me having fucked his girlfriend sophomore year.

Or me having fuckedhima couple years before that.

During the first intermission, Pace jabs his stick into my shoulder. “Stop baiting Weller. We’re up by two.”

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