Savage Chaos

by J. Lynn Lombard

  Once I became the best, Switch introduced me to an underground fighting ring called The Circle. He also got me into stealing fast cars, teaching me how to outrun the cops. They only stopped me a handful of times and when I had to bail, Switch would get so pissed, he'd beat the shit out of me. Made me learn the hard way. Never bail on a job.

  A dog barking in the distance snaps me out of my memories and I look around. I'm standing in front of a discreet brick building. Shit. I was so lost in my head I walked right up to the address. I wanted to do recon first, but with this guy about my size standing at the door, watching me with a cocked brow and shaved head, I have no choice but to approach him or he'll become suspicious.

  "Looking for Amber," I deliver in a gruff voice.

  That used to be the code for I want a fight. The bald guy crosses his arms over his heavy chest and glares at me. My palms are sweaty and my heart is knocking so hard, I swear he can hear it. I maintain my composure, staring right back at him, into his black eyes. After a moment, the standoff is over and he opens the door.

  "Hope you know what you're doing," he declares.

  "If I didn't I wouldn't be here," I respond as I walk by him.

  He slams the door behind me, plunging me into darkness. I can hear chants off into the distance as I make my way down the garbage littered hallway. Once I reach the end, the voices are becoming louder, coming from below my feet. I open a door to my right and walk down the metal stairs. Roars and cheers vibrate off the walls and barrel at me, forcing my heart to beat harder in my chest. The smell of sweat, blood, and body odor transports me back in time to my very first underground fight.

  ********

  "Mayhem, Mayhem, Mayhem," the crowd chants my nickname as Switch creates a path to the center of the room. Their voices vibrate off the walls around me. They form a huge circle around us, giving me no room to escape. Adrenaline saturates my veins as I listen to the crowd roars for me. I'm scared shitless on the inside but present no emotion on the outside. My opponent takes one glance at me and the hesitation that flashes in his blue eyes gives me an advantage. He doesn't want to go up against me. He quickly masks it and glares at me.

  I stretch my arms above my head, flexing my shoulder muscles and rippling my abs. Sweat already covers my body, the dew is glistening the new tattoos that snake their path up my wrists to my shoulders on both arms. Switch grabs my fists and wraps them up. The only protection I'll have. Not breaking eye contact with my opponent, Switch shouts in my ear, over the crowd.

  "You listening to me?" I nod my head. "Good, now go in there and show no mercy. Stay low, keep your guard up and stay on the balls of your feet. Aim for his gut and ribs first, knock the wind out of him, then deliver the ultimate blow. The one you've perfected." Switch grabs my shoulders, forcing me to stare into his cold, black, soulless eyes. "You win this and there'll be more money and more pussy than your little dick can keep up with. If you don't..." he trails off, glaring into my eyes.

  Oh, I got the message. If I fail, he will hand me my ass until I submit.

  "I'm not losing." my tone is low and savage. All the nerves wracking my body a few minutes ago disappear as I stare into Switch's cold, dead eyes.

  "Good. Now go beat the shit out of this asshole." He shoves me away from him. "Oh, one more thing. He fucked Wrath two nights ago and wasn't gentle with her." He shouts over my shoulder.

  I clench my fists tighter, crushing the tape around my hands and rage pumps through my veins. My muscles tighten in response and I zone in on the fucker in front of me. I want blood. When Wrath came to the apartment last night, she had fresh bruises all over her body and wouldn't talk to anyone. She sat on the couch tucked up into a little ball. She didn't make eye contact with anyone and when I tried to talk to her, she pushed me away and left. I knew something happened to her. This motherfucker will pay.

  He's wearing a pair of black boxing shorts and no shirt, swinging his arms back and forth, glaring at me. His shaved head and tattoos are supposed to intimate me, but they don't. I lock my eyes on him and let the demon out to play. My body pulsates with rage and all I can see is this motherfucker in front of me. His blood on my hands.

  He attacks first, running at me in fury. I watch his feet and his fists simultaneously. He steps with his left foot and swings with his right. I learn his pattern quickly. This will be too easy. I let a smirk cross my lips as I duck away from another jab and that pisses him off even more. He comes at me again and I deliver a shocking blow right to his gut and kick him away from me, sending him flying back into the crowd. He's struggling to catch his breath as the crowd shoves him back into The Circle with me.

  Vibrations from the screaming crowd fuel me on and I rapidly approach him delivering another slam of my fist to his stomach. He doubles over and the crowd goes nuts. I rear back and smash my fists into his face repeatedly. Bones crunch under my knuckles, blood spraying everywhere. I don't stop. I won’t stop. I can't quit. He slumps to the concrete with a thud. Breathing hard, I tower over him. Sweat dripping into my eyes, I lean over and hoist him up by his armpits. His head rolls on his neck, but he's still conscious, just not for long though.

  "Come near her again, and I'll fucking kill you next time." my voice is deadly in his ears. His one eye cracks open and shock registers on his face that I know. I deliver the heaviest blow I've ever flung in my life. All the anger, rage and aggression packed into one solid hit. His body twists around and he crashes to the floor again with a sickening thud.

  The crowd goes wild and someone approaches me from behind. I'm still locked in the adrenaline thrumming through my body and whirl around, ready to punch the fuck out of who's touching me. Switch throws his hands up in the air in surrender and the beast I battle with every day takes it as a form of submission. I lower my fists and fight to control myself.

  "C'mon kid. Let's get out of here before they ambush us." Switch shouts.

  He throws a towel at me and we quickly exit the room and run up the metal stairs, shutting out the chants and the howling of the crowd. We reach the exit and once I wipe the sweat off, he hands me my black hoodie and hat. I put them on quickly, disguising myself in the dark of night.

  **********

  Someone bumps into me from behind and I spin around to see who it was. A teenager with big hoop earrings, blonde hair, and familiar hazel eyes stare up at me, speechless. It's the same girl from the alley.

  "Oh fuck," she mumbles, before darting back into the crowd.

  Before I can stop her and discover who she is, she's gone. I rush the crowd searching for her, but she's nowhere in sight. Sighing in defeat, I turn back towards the circle of people, keeping my head down, my baseball hat sitting low. I push my way through the crowd and stand two rows back, watching the scene in front of me. Grunts and groans penetrate the air as two women battle it out in the middle. One of them has long black hair tied in a tight bun. She has on a black sports bra and green boxing shorts. She's sporting a cut above her right eye, bleeding into her vision. Her left eye is swollen shut, and she's swaying on her feet, on the verge of losing consciousness. The other woman has her back to me, wearing dark blue boxing shorts and a matching sports bra. Her long blond hair is tied in a loose ponytail. I spot a tattoo I’ve been very intimate with, peeking out from under the waistband of her shorts. She slowly shifts in my direction. My heart stops beating and the noises all fade away as her hazel eyes lock onto mine.

  Frozen in place from shock, she doesn't see her opponent coming up behind her until her fist connects with the back of Wrath's head. She spins back around, ducking low and delivers the most powerful uppercut to the woman's face, I've ever witnessed. The other woman falls back and lands on the ground with a sickening thud, not moving.

  Wrath spins back around in my direction, but the crowd swallows her up before she can break free. Finally snapping out of my daze, I turn around and push my way through the crowd and up the metal stairs, taking them two at a time. My heart is pounding in my ears and my body is shakin
g from head to toe. I need to get out of here and fast.

  I push open the door at the top of the stairs with unbelievable force and it slams against the wall behind it. I run down the dark hallway and shove open the door leading outside. I stumble onto the sidewalk as the sun blinds me for a moment.

  "Rough time?" A deep voice asks me from behind.

  I whirl around and see the same guy that let me in standing against the building. He has a cigarette in his mouth and crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at me.

  "No, I'm good. Too many memories." I gruffly reply.

  "Hey, kid. If you can't handle it, then don't come back."

  "Oh, I can handle it and I'm not a kid."

  I turn around and make my way back to the subway station. I pay for a Metro card and enter the underground trains. Taking a seat on one of the wooden benches, I rest my hands on my knees and keep my head down. Exhaling a deep breath, I compose myself. I need to get this shit under control. I didn't fight all these years to get out and only to be sucked back in again.

  Ashton was right. I'm not ready to handle this on my own and what just happened back there proved it. Vibrations echo off the walls and a breeze blows onto the platform, tousling my shirt. A train is coming in. I look up and see it's the E train heading to Times Square. Once the train has stopped, my feet are moving me onto it. I grab a seat in the back of the car and hold my head down. Passengers get on and off the next few stops. I've looked up every few minutes, keeping my hat low over my eyes, observing and watching the other passengers.

  When the ding sounds, signaling it's my stop, I stand to my full height and wait at the doors for them to open. People on the other side of the doors, waiting to get on, catch one look at me and step back as I step out. I can’t even blend in down here, so I need to figure out a way to use that to my advantage instead of hiding from it.

  Chapter 8

  Nolan

  The sounds of taxi horns blaring, and voices greet me as I stride up the concrete steps from the dark subway station. The sun is bright and the fresh air is a blessing in disguise. I look around at Times Square and the beauty still takes my breath away. Billboards light up the city blocks for miles on end. I approach a long plastic seating area and people move out of my way quickly. Sitting down, I rest my head in my hands and listen to the noises around me. This part of Times Square is shut down to cars and bicyclists. It gives tourists an effortless way to enjoy the sights around them. This is a beautiful city if you look past the evil lurking in the corners and dark alleyways.

  "Alright, ladies and gentlemen. Listen up!” A familiar voice shouts from behind me. “We have a show for you today and this one’s very special.”

  I stand to see what's going on, keeping my baseball hat low on my head. There's a crowd gathered around a group of guys and they're extending my way. The guys are wearing grey sweatpants and have yellow bandanas tied around their heads or arms. Their dark skin is glistening with sweat and none of them are wearing shirts. I swallow hard when their leader glances in my direction and locks his light brown eyes on me. Oh shit, this isn't good. I break eye contact with him and walk towards the back of the crowd.

  "Hey," he hollers in my direction. "Where are you going? Don't you want to stay for the show?"

  Knowing I shouldn't engage with him, I keep pushing my way through the crowd, until a strong hand grabs my shoulder, whipping me fast around.

  Throwing his grip off me, I give him a lethal glare.

  "Don't fucking touch me,” I growl, fighting to keep my anger tamped down.

  "We need to talk,” he states and crosses his solid arms over his chest. A King Cobra snake tattoo coils up his right arm and spreads out across his dark chest, the mouth open towards his heart, ready to strike the black heart tattoo.

  "No, we don't,” I answer, low and deadly.

  He looks me in the eye and slips a piece of paper in my hand. "Yes, we do," he insists. He turns back to the crowd and continues his speech like nothing happened. I tune him out and open the piece of paper in my shaking hand. It's an address. Underneath the address says, you need me.

  I need Ashton on this. I can't do this by myself anymore. Things are getting stranger and stranger by the minute. That guy is the leader of the Black Heart Crew. They're bad motherfuckers and I've had a few run-ins with them back years ago. They live up to their name, Black Heart. They don't give a fuck who you are or what gang you’re affiliated with. They'll kill you for looking at them wrong, then send pieces of your body to your loved ones.

  I walk away from the crowd and down a dark alley. I tuck the paper in my front pocket and keep my head down. Pulling out my phone, I dial Ashton's number.

  "It's about fucking time." Ashton growls on the other end.

  "Hey, I need your help. You're right, I can't do this alone."

  "What happened?"

  "It's a long story. One I don't want to get into on the phone. Can you meet me at my motel room?"

  "I'm already here," Ashton quickly answers, taking me by surprise. "C'mon you should know I can track anyone, anywhere."

  "I'll be right there." I sigh, hanging up my phone.

  I smile to myself as I make my way back down the subway station. I can always count on him to be there. The train to take me to thirty-sixth street is just pulling into the station and I walk into the car. I find a seat in the back and kick my feet up on the bench in front of me. A woman huffs in annoyance at my move, but I don't give a fuck right now. Ashton is here and that means the rest of my team will be here soon and we'll figure this out together. I wonder if Ashley is here too. Pulling my phone back out, I click on her name and send a quick message. I can't talk down here, but I can send a text.

  Me: I miss you.

  Ashley: I miss you too, now quit being a stubborn asshole and tell me what's going on.

  I smile to myself. She’s a firecracker that's for sure. God, do I miss her like crazy. My phone chimes again with another message.

  Ashley: Sorry, I'm just worried about you. I'm here and I'm not going anywhere. So, you better get used to letting me in.

  Her message is cryptic. Does that mean she's here in the City or here in general? Fuck this woman keeps me on my toes. Instead of pondering her message, I slide my phone back in my pocket and watch the signs for my exit.

  Thirty-sixth street looms ahead as the train slows down, its brakes squealing as it comes to a fast stop. I stand up and wait at the doors again. This time, instead of keeping my head down, trying to blend in, I keep it up high and make eye contact with everyone who looks in my direction. Something must portray on my face because when I look at someone, they quickly look away. I know I'm an intimidating guy, but that's just ridiculous.

  The doors whoosh open in a hurry and I step out onto the platform. People make a wide berth for my massive frame as I pass them by. What the actual fuck is going on? I'm used to people moving away from me, but not like this.

  Walking up the concrete steps into the city again, I can feel a tiny hand rest on my lower back. I immediately whip around and no one's there. Laughter floats in my ears and I close my eyes, trying to steady my erratic heartbeat. People pass by me as I stand on the steps, trying to gain control.

  What the actual fuck? I'm finding myself saying this repeatedly since I've been here. Laughter floats around me again and I scan the crowd as I walk up the rest of the stairs.

  "Sherwood, c'mon," a girl cries, catching my attention over the crowd.

  I turn around and spot the same little boy with shaggy brown hair and the girl from the underground fighting ring. She's yanking on his sweatshirt and he's staring at me again. His whiskey-colored eyes are pleading with me to help him. She's dragging him down the street by the arm, disappearing into the crowd. My feet are moving at a rapid pace, trying to catch up with them, pushing my way past the mobs of people separating me from them.

  "Move the fuck out of the way," I growl when a man steps in my path. I shove him hard and he loses his footing and hits the
side of a brick building.

  "Hey, asshole. Watch what you're doing." the man shouts.

  I spin around, already on edge and fighting the demon inside, ready to punish his ass, when a warm, gentle hand grabs mine. I freeze from the contact and the voice I've been longing to hear floats in my head.

  "Nolan, I'm here."

  Chapter 9

  Ashley

  I spot Nolan as his towering form walks up the steps from the subway station. He’s battling something inside of him, I can see it in the way he walks. I had a feeling this is where he'd come out and I was right. His muscular legs eat up the steps as he emerges from the dark stairwell. The sight of his broad shoulders and solid body makes my heart skip a beat. I missed him so much in the last couple of months, it's unreal and a little scary.

  A little boy gently touches his back, trying to get his attention and a girl with long blonde hair, big hazel eyes, and tons of makeup on shoves him away. They quickly make their way up the stairs as Nolan turns around, just missing her dragging him away. Nolan closes his eyes for a minute in the dark stairwell and walks up the steps. He's struggling, I can understand that.

  When the girl's voice floats our way, Nolan doesn't see me, but he locks eyes onto the little boy. I try to holler at him, but he's gone in a flash, heading in the direction the two kids went. He clenches his hands at his sides as he shoves everyone out of his way. One man steps in his path and I quicken my pace until I'm right behind him. Something in Nolan snaps at what the man says to him and I know I must intervene before he knocks this guy on his ass. I grab his hand gently in mine, the kids are long gone by now.

  "Nolan, I'm here," I whisper.

  His whiskey eyes, full of pain and rage, whip around to mine and he closes them briefly. When he opens them again, he's back in control.