Page 86 of Chaos & Carnage

“Bitch, I watched you.”

“Look. Thrash’ll never get over me. I’m sorry he won’t look at you like he looks at me every time I walk past him. I’m not interested. Never will be. You can have that arsehole to yourself. Just tell him to keep his hands off me or I’ll cut them off.”

I pulled the second jumper into place, wondering whether I’d need a third, half of my attention on the arguing women outside the tent.

“I’ll rip your fucking head off!” The woman screamed. Loud. Angry. Visceral.

Someone grunted.

“Shit,” a collection of voices hissed.

I pulled my jacket on top of the mountain of jumpers, dipping my head as I scrambled towards the door of the tent. On the other side of the polyester flap, the noises continued. Women’s voices mainly, but now it sounded like men joined in.

“Fuck. Get her off her,” a familiar low voice barked.

Tentatively, I pulled at the zip, not sure what I was sticking my head out into. Legs. That was all I could see, multiple pairs of legs. I crawled through the entrance, out into the cold, although it was warmer than yesterday, my breath not making trails of white mist in the air today.

I stood up, catching Heidi’s eye.

“What’s going on?” I mouthed, too scared to make much noise.

“Jazz just laid out Thrash’s girlfriend,” she explained, her eyes darting to the commotion a few tents over.

“Jazz? Thrash?”

“Fury’s sister. Thrash is the vice president of The Notorious. If the shit doesn’t hit the fan now, I’ll eat my tent,” Heidi whispered.

There was still a scuffle in front of us, people parting slightly. And now I could see the two women that someone had just pulled apart. Jazz’s hair had been torn loose from her long dark plait, a single trickle of blood running from one nostril. The massive auburn mound of Reap held tightly to her, pulling her away from the woman lying on the floor. The twins stood behind the brunette collapsed in the doorway to Indie’s tent. Both bent down, scooping up under her arms and propping her back onto her feet. But the minute she was upright again, she ran forwards. One, two steps before Caleb caught her round her waist, pulling her back into him in one easy yank. The woman spun slightly, turning into him, and she huddled against his chest. He closed the other arm around her, holding her to him and walking them backwards, retreating from Jazz, who looked like she would murder the girl purely with the venom in her eyes.

Watching him guide her backwards, set a bottomless feeling spreading through me, an irrational pang of jealousy. Of seeing him with someone else, even though he wasn’t with me. Not really. Just that one night. The three of us together. I was with Cade, not Caleb.

“Who is the woman that Chaos has hold of?” Emmie asked, stepping back from the crowd of Kings and a handful of other women I didn’t recognise.

“It’s Caleb,” I corrected.

“Carnage? How can you tell the two of them apart?”

“It’s his face. He’s less intense.”

“Really? You can see that?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

But before she said anything else, shouts from behind interrupted us.

“Get your filthy fucking Kings’ paws off my lass, you absolute rat.”

The man pushed through everyone, knocking one of the prospects clean off his feet. The surrounding atmosphere changed, the temperature dropped, an icy coldness drifting through our camp. The man bowled on, bounding off Heidi, and she shot him a look, stopping him in his tracks. He turned, staring down at her, and even though a beard hid a third of his face, he still looked like an angry bull, his cheeks flushed a harsh pink.

And now he was moving towards Caleb, with long, thunderous, enraged steps. I wheeled round, looking at Heidi and Emmie and then back at the giant of a man moving quicker than a man his size should.

“Thrash!” Indie barked, emerging from the tent, cutting off the man with an angry bear’s head embroidered on the back of his jacket.

The big ginger man paused, the men we’d rode here with stealthily surrounding him.

“Take a look around you, Thrash, mate. This is going to end in one of two ways. Take your lass and get her out of here. I don’t need to explain the other option.”

The woman turned round in Caleb’s arms, blood dripping from a cut in her lip. Thrash’s glare moved from his woman to Caleb, who watched him carefully, covertly separating his feet and squaring his stance.