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That truth keeps me moving. I’ve heard it on the lips of too many women not to believe it. I’m a beast inside and out.
A rumble of anger bursts from my chest. Kincaid takes a blow to the face before he drives a fist into Animal’s ribs.
The other fighter is the best Darrion has on his payroll. The small-time kingpin is trying to make it to a position of strength where he can take me on. That will not happen. I’m more irritated about Animal fighting in my territory. I’m even more curious why my enforcer is with him. I deserve an answer and I’m going to have a little fun pulling the truth out of both men.
Raven acts like the spearhead as we barrel toward the center of the human cage. I lock eyes on Kincaid first. He falters, and it costs him greatly.
A right hook coming from a man like Animal is close to getting a sledgehammer to the face.
Kincaid takes the hit, but doesn’t fall. He’s a damn good fighter for a reason. The jaw on him can take a pounding. But he’s never felt my fist in his face.
Instead of finishing Kincaid for his betrayal, I handle Animal first.
I bust through the referees paid to keep the crowd on their side of the line. Surprised, they do nothing but look on as I take a fist full of black hair and introduce Animal to the pain of my wrath.
His roar feeds my demons.
Contact sports aren’t my thing anymore. I have enough scars without adding to them. I haven’t been in a fight since I brought on enough enforcers to take care of the dirty work. My men operate under the assumption I got my nickname from the scars on half my body.
In reality, my time in illegal fights is why I’m called the Beast. Once I get started, not much can stop me. I haven’t let that part of me off the chain in a while. It’s time to remind people why they fear me.
Energy courses through my veins when the first of Animal’s blood covers my knuckles. I stretch my shoulder and crack my neck, letting my demons take over.
Animal is lost in his adrenaline rush. He doesn’t see the furious man in front of him. The urge to kill has taken over all his senses when he should throw up a white flag and beg for my mercy instead.
I bury my fist in his face again and again until he stumbles into the crowd and drops to his knees.
I whirl on Kincaid. His face is a little too clear of bruises for my liking. My fists set to work on his jaw, ribs and he could use a realigning of his nose. That way when he looks in the mirror every morning he will remember part of the price of betraying me. If I let him live, that is.
“Stop!”
I hear the faint, feminine voice but my demons haven’t fed in a long time. And I have a point to make.
“Boss!”
I drive my fist into Kincaid’s face again, unable to stop. His blood mixes with Animal’s.
“Beast, you gotta believe me. I didn’t—” My left hand around Kincaid’s windpipes cuts his words off. I haul him off the floor and raise him until the tips of his shoes drag over the rough cement.
I inhale deeply. Metallic scent of blood filters through my lungs. “Didn’t what?” I dare him to finish.
Syllables squeak out under the pressure of my fingers tightening around this traitor's throat.
“Was loyalty to me too high of a price to pay for all the wealth I provided? Did you suffer under my employ? Is that why you went behind my back and organized an unsanctioned fight?”
Kincaid shakes his head.
“Stop! You’re going to kill him!”
Feminine hands wrap around the bulge of my bicep. I turn a heaving glare on the woman who dared to interrupt me and nearly drop the dirt bag I employed for twenty years of his life. Our intense gazes collide and the blow is strong enough to knock the air from my lungs.
Red roses wash away the smell of blood. My demons pause. We want the death of this man, but I can’t bring myself to take the final blow. The dark undercurrents of possession gripping my soul fade and I can finally see through the shroud of darkness.
My astonishment must be plastered on my face because the green-eyed beauty exhales so profoundly I feel my anger disintegrate. I drop Kincaid to the floor and turn, raising my hand to her face.
“Who are you?” The crowd fades to nothing and my world narrows down to the innocent soul stepping into hell’s realm. Her skin is soft. Like a rose petal. Warm.
My eyes roam over the fear clenching her expression. I smooth out the creases of worry at the edges of her eyes, leaving behind a smear of blood.
