Page 15 of Sons of Hellfire (Hellfire Society #1)

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Ali

“ S top calling me that!” I growl, trying not to press the blade in deeper with my annoyance.

“But that’s what you are. My wife.” Riot says, hands held up in a non-threatening manner. “I can show you. I have the marriage certificate in my pocket.” I stiffen at that.

“Bullshit. I’ve never met you before last night, and I only met your other friend yesterday as well.

” I glance at the man in the gas mask. “Isn’t that right, Arsen?

” Fuck, I hope I’m right or I sound as crazy as Riot does right now.

The guy who I’m pretty sure is Arsen shrugs, but it’s the faceless asshole that speaks next.

“A kitty with claws and brains.” Ever so slowly, the man moves his hands up towards his face before removing his mask.

My breath almost catches in my throat. Holy shit, he’s gorgeous.

The man is a walking, talking wet dream with his dirty blonde hair that is short on the side and longer on top.

He has icy blue eyes that seem to try to stare into my soul.

Then, for whatever reason, probably to tease and show off, he unzips his hoodie to show me his bare chest. His tatted, yummy, lickable bare chest that leads down to a six-pack and a cute little happy trail.

NO ALI. HE WATCHED YOU GET ATTACKED BY A KILLER CLOWN. NO TOXIC MEN ALLOWED!!!

Before my brain can catch up or I can say anything, Arsen removes his mask.

Of course, he looks just as good as he did the other night.

Except this version is more rugged and not refined in a dress shirt.

His chest bare, tattoos and abs on full display.

His hair falls forward, the chocolate brown red tip mess shifting into his light gray eyes as he grins over at me, white teeth on full display.

I glare back at him. He is still on my shit list for making me have to wear this uncomfortable outfit.

“Kitty?” he questions, eyeing his friend. “Nah, she’s a wildfire, aren’t you, Ali?” Then he winks. Who the fuck winks anymore?

“She’s my wife.” Riot sneers. Then he’s moving.

I must have been distracted or something because the next thing I know, Riot is pushing my arm with the blade up while grabbing my other arm with it.

I want to fight back, but then he pushes me up against the wall with my arms above my head and his face next to my neck.

Riot takes a deep inhale before snarling.

He shifts so that one hand is holding both my arms, and with his other, he rips off his muzzle before shoving his face back into my neck to inhale again.

“Fuck, you smell so good.” A shiver races down my spine as my skin erupts out in goosebumps.

He lets out a low, deep moan before reaching down into his sweatpants.

The sound of crinkling paper can be heard before he places the folded-up paper at my chest and steps away.

On instinct, I grab the paper, but I keep my eyes trained on the beautiful bastard.

Because of course he is just as good-looking without his mask.

“Go ahead, Wife. Take a look.” The way Riot says wife sends a different kind of chill down my spine.

The uneasy, foreboding kind. With sweaty palms and numb fingers, I slowly unfold the slip of paper, keeping the three men in my peripheral.

When I finally get it untangled and flat, my eyes glide over the words.

Once. Twice. Three times for good measure because the words aren’t reading right.

This is indeed a marriage certificate saying that Ali Black is married to Riot Parker.

And there at the bottom is a scary similar signature to mine.

NO.

No, this can’t be real.

I would have remembered marrying a crazy man. Right?

But the proof is in the ink, and this ink looks very convincing.

“How the hell is this possible?” I ask, still staring wide-eyed at this simple piece of paper. My voice comes out more shocked than anything.

Riot smiles with a shrug. “Anything is possible if you want it badly enough.” I frown at his obvious nonanswer.

“The moment I saw you, I knew you were mine, and I wanted you in every way possible. So, I found the right people to get the job done. I figured out your name with the help of my friend.” He nods to his right, Arsen.

“Then it was just greasing the right hands and voila, you’re my legal wife.

” His smug smile lifts impossibly higher, as does my anger .

What is with some men thinking they can just snap their stupid fingers and things can just happen?

For half a second, I think about stabbing him again, but from the smirk he has aimed at me, I think he can see my thoughts.

Slowly, I take a deep breath, trying to give myself some type of calm.

I have bigger problems than a fake marriage certificate right now.

Because this has to be fake, but more importantly, this can’t be legal.

Later Ali problem. I close my eyes to focus.

I need to figure out what my next move is.

A chunk of hair falls into my face, and I lift my hand to move it out of the way.

My fingers hit my stupid mask, and I frown.

Mask. Rule number one: must wear the outfit and mask provided to you.

Masks must be worn at all times, or you will be disqualified.

Then it dawns on me. The three of them just took off their masks.

I narrow my eyes at them as my thoughts shift through possible scenarios of who these guys are and what they want with me, but when everything and nothing comes to mind all at once, I finally decide to ask. “Who are you guys?”

I watch them all for any sign of attack, but all three seem relaxed.

As if they are trying to seem less threatening than they really are.

When everyone just stares at each other, I get annoyed, crumpling the “marriage certificate” as I throw it at Riot.

“Look, I don’t know what kind of twisted game you three are playing, but I’m not your wife.

” I point at Riot. “I currently want to follow through with cutting off your balls for making me wear this skimpy thing.” I shift my finger to Arsen.

“And you’re just a creepy asshole who let a crazy killer clown attack me.

” Last, I point at the good-looking jerk who still hasn’t told me his name but somehow knows mine.

“So, I’m going to need answers now, or I’m going to start stabbing. ”

I have to hold back my smirk when I watch Arsen cover his crotch. Riot grins like a psycho, and their friend crosses his arms over his chest with a glare.

“We’re in a dead zone for cameras.” I just blink at him.

Cameras? Of course they are recording this shitshow.

“Look, I’m Cash. And none of us are going to hurt you.

We actually saved your ass.” When I roll my eyes in response, I swear I see his eye twitch.

“You know what, fine; you want the truth?” I nod, crossing my own arms over my chest. Which I realized was a bad idea because that move only shoves up my already barely contained tits.

Three sets of eyes zero in on the move, but being the stubborn bitch I am right now, I don’t let them make me feel uncomfortable. No, I call them out .

“Yeah, I’m a woman with tits, moving on.”

Riot doesn’t even bother to look away or even seem embarrassed. The asshole just licks his lips like a dog staring at a dino bone. Arsen and Cash, on the other hand, shrug but avert their stares.

Cash clears his throat. “The three of us are here voluntarily. We,” he circles his finger to encompass them all.

“Come from the founding families that started this game. We call them the Hellfire Trials. Our families are part of the Hellfire Society. A society that runs part of the west coast and is growing daily. This game is put on to test the incoming leadership so they can prove they have what it takes to rule their family name.” I lift a brow in an unspoken question, or maybe surprise. I’m not sure yet.

“So, you three are the reasons I was kidnapped and thrown into this hellhole?” I question, my blade now raised and pointed at them in an unspoken threat. One that is taking every ounce of self-control to maintain.

“No, that would be our fathers’ doing. The ones we plan to take over for. We disagree with this game just as much as you do, but that is the way of our society.” Arsen says, once more shrugging like this is all no big deal and is just a minor inconvenience. Asshole .

“Why me?” I ask the question that has swirled through my mind since the beginning.

Cash steps forward, the soft light coming through the dirty window lighting up his handsome face even more. “It wasn’t supposed to be you, from what I understand, but you happened to be in the wrong place at the right time.”

“Lucky me.” I try to process all the information, what little they’ve given me, but I can’t seem to focus.

So many questions bounce around in my head, and when I try to figure out the right one to ask, it slips through my fingers.

I’m so exhausted. Not fully sleeping for the last week and then being thrown into a cat-and-mouse hunting game does that to a woman.

They must see it in me, the fatigue, the emotion and information overload, because Riot mumbles something under his breath before stepping forward.

“You’ve had a rough few days, Wife…”

“I’m not your wife. Stop calling me that.” I grind out, pointing my knife back up at him.

Riot’s cheek must be hurting like crazy because once more his smile only widens at my words.

“You are my wife, till death do us part, Ali. It will be easier if you just accept it, but because we jumped headfirst into our love story, I’ll give you a break.

” I glare at him, debating where I should stab him next.

“As I was saying, you’ve had a rough few days.

Why don’t you take a nap? Get some rest, and one of us will be on watch the entire time.

When you wake, we can talk more and go over a plan.

” He sounds reasonable, and a part of me wants to believe and trust him.

Even if he is a complete stranger…that I fucked on an adrenaline high.

Ugh. Now is not the time for that conversation either.

“Fine. But if any of you come near me, I will stab you, cut off your balls, and shove them down your throat to choke on.” All three of them wince at my threat. I want to laugh, but I have zero strength left. With no other choice but to trust them, I concede with a wary nod.

“Good. You can take my spot over there.” Riot points to the corner to my left and furthest from the window. I shuffle my way over before sliding my back down the wall, making sure to keep them all in view. The moment I’m off my feet, the tension in my shoulders releases.

I close my eyes, telling myself I won’t really sleep.

I can’t. Not when I’m in a room full of wolves and I’m literally dressed like a bunny right now.

Something warm, soft, and smelling of a woodsy musk and dirt covers me.

I try to open my eyes, but the warmth and feeling of safety consume me, thrusting me into the ever-loving embrace of sleep.