Page 104 of Blackwood

When the fuck did we get colored ring lights?

And then I see them. First, the redhead, Haley. Black pants so tight they might as well be painted on, sliced up the thighs with deliberate slits that flash skin every time she moves. Black top cut so low it’s practically porn.Trifectaflashes across her chest in deep red rhinestones. She knows exactly what she’s doing.

Then it hits me, Knox. He’s the DJ for Carrington Row and he’s the one fucking the redhead of the group.

Thank God. That was going to bug the shit out of me.

Second, Little Whitmore. Black bikini top with The Trifecta logo stitched over her left tit. Leather pants slit down the sides like a warning. Her grin is pure sass.

There she is, the girl of my fucking dreams. She’s dead center of the chaos. Simple black tank clinging like a second skin. Tight black leather shorts riding low on her hips, hugging the kind of ass that makes men forget how to breathe. Black boots with blood-red heels, clicking with every step like a countdown to destruction.

Her hair’s long, black, wild, like she walked through hell and didn’t bother to brush off the ashes. And those eyes… steel gray. She’s a vision. A weapon. A dare.

Bella Blackwood.

Mine and Cade’s new girl.

‘Bout time you showed up, baby.

So, I may or may not have stalked her socials the second I found out she fucked my boyfriend. Curiosity and all. I went down a spiral and also liked every single picture on her profile, even saved a few of them on my phone. Except the ones with fucking Callum or any of the other Row boys in it, those can rot.

I’ve also been following their group. Watched every performance they’ve posted. Call me a Trifecta super fan now. Shit, I should probably get me one of those fancy Trifecta t-shirts they advertised.

There’s a name inked on her wrist,Dylan,or some shit. I’m going to have to get that fucker’s name off my girl’s skin, pronto. And aZon her right shoulder blade, wrapped in clean, curving lines that move like smoke.

Like memory.

Like vengeance.

It’s hot.

She struts across the ring and plops herself onto Callum’s lap, wrapping her arm around his neck. He slides his arms around her waist and pulls her in close.

The fuck is this girl doing?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa?” Knox yells into the mic. “What the hell are you doing, Bella?”

Damn right, Knox. Love this guy. Get her ass off him.

She grins, lips painted cherry red. “Oh, sorry, Knox. Just wishing Cal good luck.” She turns her head, nodding straight at me.

“From the looks of that guy over there…” she winks and then looks back at Callum. “You might need it, Cal.”

You fucking know it, baby. He will need it.

I lean back into the ropes, muttering under my breath, “Dead man walking.”

She’s center ring now, arms crossed, all attitude and boots.

“Um, Problem Child?” Knox calls over the mic.

She groans. “We’re really going with that again. I mean, it’s so rude.” She throws a hand toward Ellie. “Ellie gets Sweetheart. Which is what Cade calls me, you know, like in bed. So yeah… we really do need to change that.” She looks at Cade and blows him a kiss.

Cade fucking smiles.

Knox groans, “Problem Child, focus.”

She shrugs, exaggerated and smug. “Sorry. It gets me feeling things I really shouldn’t be feeling downtherewhen I’m trying to dance.”