Blood & Rust (New York Crime Kings #1)

by Skyla Madi

  “You don’t look like an Emily.”

  I frown. “No?” I ask, unable to hide my agitation.

  What the hell does that mean? Is there a certain way I’m supposed to look? Are other Emilys tall? Athletic? Blonde?

  “I don’t think she looks like an Emily either,” Jai chimes in, leaning against the concrete wall.

  There’s a grin on his face, one that both annoys and intrigues me.

  “Don’t you dare say it,” I warn him and his eyes flare.

  “She’s feisty, playful and scared of a little water.” Jai feigns thought, angling his head to the side to get a better look at me. “She looks like more of a...Kitten. Don’t you think, Marcus?”

  The man at the door, Marcus, snorts and smiles widely. “Sure does.”

  “You’re both assholes,” I deadpan, trying my hardest not to let my aggression surface.

  If I don’t make a big deal about it, maybe it’ll go away. Marcus’s green irises flick over me once more, this time analyzing me a little more intimately. I feel naked, as if his stare has stripped me bare, but Jai doesn’t notice. And if he did, why would he care?

  “How long you think she’ll last?”

  Jai shrugs. “A few minutes—maybe.”

  “So I should bet against her, then?”

  I stand still, shocked that they’re having a conversation like this in front of me. It’s like I’m not even here. I’m not going to lie; I’m a competitive person. I don’t like losing, no matter what it is, and the fact they think I can’t win makes me want to prove them wrong.

  Jai doesn’t answer straight away. Instead, he rakes his teeth over his bottom lip and thins his eyes, pondering his answer.

  “I wouldn’t bet against her,” he states, surprising me. “But I wouldn’t throw all of my money down for her to win either.”

  Marcus nods and steps aside. No more words are exchanged and Jai enters in through the door. I follow him, doing my best to slip by Marcus without making eye contact. Although normal enough, there’s something unsettling about him.

  A distinct groan and a loud cheer echoes down the tunnels. It vibrates through my body, sending my heart racing. What are we walking in to?

  It doesn’t take long for me to figure it out. We follow the tunnel for another twenty yards before it veers off to the left. The roar of people somewhere in the tunnel is loud, almost ear-piercing.

  “You ready?” Jai shouts over his shoulder as he comes to a stop.

  Bright lights filter in from the end of the tunnel and chains rattle and men grunt as flesh connects with flesh. My skin prickles with the sensation of a million ants and energy frissons through me, zipping like lightning all over my body. I’m breathless and I haven’t seen it yet—whatever it is. Jai reaches out and grips my arm. I move with no resistance as he tugs me in front of him and nudges me closer to the end of the tunnel. I swallow in a breath of heavy air and expel it slowly. My body is excited, coiled and aroused by the anticipation of it all. Even my nipples strain hard against the fabric of my bra. What am I going to see? What have I become a part of and why do I suddenly crave it so badly?

  I pause at the edge of the tunnel, not daring to peek out. From where I’m standing, I see glistening men and women, smelling of sweat and sex. They’re cheering at something, something that rattles and clashes with metal. I cringe as chains strain and flesh becomes bruised. Jai plants a heavy hand on my hip, and immediately, I become hyperaware of it. His pulse radiates into my skin and I shut my eyes for a moment, hypnotized by the sound of complete chaos.

  Above us, a city sleeps, but down here, anarchy rules.

  The Underground

  It’s a cage. And it’s hanging over a massive tunnel by rusty fucking chains. It’s the first thing I see when Jai pushes me further out of the tunnel. The cage rattles and swings as two men smash their fists into each other’s faces. They duck and roll, kick and punch, and every time they do the cage shudders and creaks. Jai talks in my ear, but I don’t hear him, only my heart. It beats like a drum in my head as the metal box of death bounces, threatening to snap and send them both plummeting to their death at any second. At least one hundred people fill the surprisingly large area. Men and women of all sizes lean against concrete pillars and hang from unstable bars. Small trails of water trickle down from surrounding tunnels and pour into the large one in the middle—the one the cage swings above. I can smell blood and rust mixed in with sweat and mold. The dust in the air is heavy, clinging to damp skin and refusing to drop off. Specks of it settle in my lungs and tickle my nostrils, but I don’t care. It makes me feel alive, like the life I was living thirty minutes ago was all a ruse. The pores on the surface of my skin tingle and vibrate, urging me to take off my clothes and feel the dirtiness of this place on my naked body. My clothes suffocate me and my heavy bag pulls on me, making my muscles ache. I slam into the large expanse of Jai’s back. Groaning, I stumble backwards and catch his brief look of frustration. The way he furrows his brows at me forces me from my stupor.

  “Most of you know me,” a deep, baritone voice announces.

  That’s when I realize the entire room, if I can call it that, is silent. Even the fighters in the cage pause their fight to hear him speak.

  “But for those who don’t, my name is Skull.”

  My ears prick up at the mention of Skull, and I follow Jai’s hostile stare up to a small concrete ledge. Three men stand on it, looking down at us as if we’re nothing but cockroaches. Two of them stand with staunch postures on either end of the ledge, their arms folded tightly over their chests. And the one in the middle, Skull, is as terrifying as his name paints him to be. The black ink on his face is exactly what his name states.

  Skull.

  His face is a skull.

  I’ve seen it once before on the Internet somewhere, but never in person. I didn’t know there was someone else, somewhere, crazy enough to do something so…so permanently scary.

  “You all know how this goes; you’ve all seen Fight Club, but just in case the message wasn’t clear…”

  One of the staunch Russian-looking men pulls a smaller man out on to the ledge. He whimpers and begs, but Skull ignores him. The small man’s lean, tattoo-less body makes him look almost innocent beside Skull and his goons.

  “I won’t tell anybody, I swear,” the scared man pleads. “Please, I was just out for a late-night walk. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

  His light brown hair sticks to his forehead and his eyes are wide, so wide I’m sure they’re going to fall from his head at any second.

  “Sorry, mate,” Skull says, his strangely sophisticated Australian accent shining through. He slings an arm over the man’s shoulder and forces him to lean slightly over the railing. “Can’t risk it.”

  “What’s going on?” I whisper to Jai, dragging my stare onto his face.

  He gives me a side-glance, one that sends dread burrowing through my stomach. “You’ll see.”

  I don’t need further explanation. My lips part as my heart stutters. They’re going to kill him? The crowd surrounding us roars to life and the sudden uproar startles me. I look up in time for Skull to finish dragging the sharp edge of his knife through the pleading man's flesh. I gasp and cover my mouth as blood gushes out of his throat and rolls down his chest. I barely have time to catch my panicked breath in my hands before Jai’s fingers curl around my wrist and he forces my limb back to my side.

  Murder. Holy shit. I’ve just witnessed murder.

  The thought sticks to my insides like tar. I’ve seen death many times—working in a hospital puts you directly in the face of it...but this is different. In hospital, it’s life, an everyday situation. Here, it’s wrong—unnatural, even.

  Skull doesn’t speak as the man bleeds out. The crimson liquid slows to a dribble. It drips off the metal railing and into the small trickle of water that runs underneath the cage before disappearing into the large, and probably bottomless, tunnel. Eventually, the cheering dies down and S
kull finally lifts his eyes to address us once more.

  “You’re all part of a secret brotherhood that has gone unnoticed for a hundred years. Most of you know the guidelines, but I see some new faces in the crowd tonight.” His black eyes flick over me and I inch closer to Jai as they pause and come back to settle on my face. “For those who aren’t familiar with how I run things, let me let you in on three simple rules. One.” He grips the dead man’s hair and pulls his head back until the slice in his throat is on display. I’m the only one in the room who shudders. “Don’t talk about it.”

  Skull grabs the man by the back of his shorts and tosses him over the railing like rubbish. His lifeless body slaps against the concrete. The sound chills my blood and sends it burning underneath my skin, but I don’t let my gaze fall from Skull’s. I don’t want him to know I don’t fit in here—that I’m here by accident. The way he stares at me, though, makes me feel like I have it branded on my forehead in bright red ink.

  Skull wipes the wet blade he used to cut the innocent man’s throat against his white T-shirt. Angry red stripes paint the fabric, but he doesn’t care.

  “Two; don’t kill anyone outside of the cage. And three; you fight when it’s your turn, or you die.”

  I swallow hard. I have to fight? That’s how I’ll make the money? I’ve only been in two fist fights in my entire life—both when I was thirteen, and I lost.

  “Until the rounds end, this place is your home, this brotherhood your family. Fight well and you shall be rewarded. Lose and you’re out on your ass with no money in your pocket, and no respect from your brothers or sisters.”

  I fight the urge to slump into myself as Skull finally frees me from his dark glare. He lets his glower drag over the scattered crowd with malicious warning before turning and disappearing through a smaller service tunnel with his goons in tow.

  It’s silent for a moment and I can’t hear my heartbeat. For a second, the only sound I hear is the unsteady trickle of water as it patters against the mossy concrete, and the creak of the rusty chains that strain under the weight of the fighters. I turn toward Jai and open my mouth to demand he kill me now—I’m dead, anyway—but the sudden sound of bone smashing into flesh beats the words off my tongue, forcing them to remain in my throat. As the crowd starts up again, Jai snags my elbow and tugs me through the horde of eager fighters. I keep my head low and my shoulders up, but I’m still clipped by hard elbows and loose hands. By the time we reach a clearing on the other side, I’ve taken more hits to the head than a footballer and a killer headache brews at the base of my skull.

  “You’ll stay with me,” Jai orders, stuffing a rogue earpiece from his iPod into the pocket of his hoodie.

  “Like hell I will.” I force my slipping bag up underneath my arm.

  I don’t know what I’ll do without Jai, but staying with him opens doors for more problems. He’s the reason I’m in this mess in the first place.

  Jai glares over my shoulder from underneath his brow and I return it without hesitation. It takes me a few seconds to realize he isn’t glaring at me, but at something behind me. Slowly, I crane my neck to look over my shoulder. I smell vodka and ass before I see the face that breathes it. And what a face it is.

  “Fine,” Jai simpers. “If you don’t want to stay with me, you can stay with him.”

  I recoil at the thought and inch closer to Jai. It seems facial tattoos are a growing trend. The foul-smelling, private-space invader licks at the spider tattooed on the corner of his mouth, and strangely, I feel sorry for it. No one or thing should be touched by this man’s tongue. I peer up at Jai and manage to conjure my most convincing ‘help’ look. I can’t stay with creepy spider man; I just can’t. With a sigh, Jai flicks his hand at the stranger.

  “Beat it, asshole.”

  The ‘asshole’ lingers for a long second, his beady blue eyes flicking between Jai and me. When Jai steps forward, his spine straight and shoulders squared, the man smirks and quickly turns on his heel. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until Jai pushes past me and steps up onto a ledge. Clasping my bag tightly under my arm, I let the air out and follow closely behind him. It’s clear now. Without Jai, I’ll be eaten alive.

  ***

  Jai dumps his heavy backpack onto a flimsy, pea-green cot and, surprisingly, the worn mesh doesn’t give out under its weight. He turns his back to me as he unzips his hoodie. I stand at the doorway, gaping at the size and state of the room. Granted, I shouldn’t have expected more than a tiny cranny tucked away in a small service way of an underground water system, but still...these people paid ten thousand dollars to be here and there isn’t even a door to protect their privacy? What a rip-off.

  “Wipe that look off your face. You’re underground, not at the Hilton,” Jai murmurs over his shoulder. “You can live in luxury when you’re out of here. You’ll probably appreciate it more.”

  I pout. “Sadly, this isn’t that much of a step down from my apartment…”

  And it isn’t. My apartment is tiny, so tiny the bed folds out of the wall and hits my kitchen bench. The smell, warm mold and dirt, isn’t a far cry from home either.

  “You should feel right at home then,” Jai says, slipping out of his hoodie.

  I lean against the damp concrete wall and watch the muscles in his back as his tight, black tank exposes all of its rises and depressions. At least one of us isn’t going to die in the cage. Jai has more muscle in one of his shoulders than I do in my entire body. He could take on six in the cage if he really wanted to. Jai squeezes between the two cots as he bunches his hoodie into a ball and drops it at the head of his cot to use as a pillow. In one swift move, he tugs off his black tank and the sudden nakedness of his torso takes my breath away. There’s barely a second for my brain to register his clean, lean form before he drapes the tank top over the murky, orange light above his bed. The semi-well lit room becomes difficult to see in so I sigh and move towards my own cot. It creaks and complains underneath my weight. The mesh tightens and I brace myself for a second, certain I’m going to crash through it and hit the floor.

  I don’t.

  When I’m sure the cot can handle my weight, I toss my bag onto the floor and pull my knees into my chest. Jai’s cot makes more noise than mine as he lowers himself into it. He moves quickly, less afraid of tearing it than I was.

  When he’s comfortable, it’s quiet in our space. Too quiet. The sounds of laughter and cheering further down the tunnel echo clearly and it sets me on edge. The air is heavy, not allowing me to take a fresh breath of air and whenever I blink, I see the man’s sliced throat. I swallow, but it does nothing to quench my dry throat. I’m not going to survive down here, and the thought is...well, it’s fucking terrifying.

  “How are you holding up, Kitten?”

  His genuine-sounding question breaks the torturing silence. It’s a question I haven’t thought about yet. I haven’t allowed it. I didn’t want to freak myself out, but truth be told, I’m not holding up well at all.

  “I’m deep underground somewhere, and I witnessed the murder of an innocent man within the first ten minutes of arriving. To get out, I have to physically fight someone God knows how many times, and, to top it off, I’m in more debt than I’ve ever been in in my life.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “I’m not okay. I don’t fit in here and they’re going to realize it eventually. Then what? When Skull finds out he’ll cut my throat and toss me over the railing and into the bottomless tunnel without explanation.”

  Jai shifts on his bed. “As far as Skull’s concerned, you paid to be here just like everyone else. Sure, you didn’t get the official invite, but if you keep your head down and pretend you know what you’re doing, you’ll be fine.”

  Tears burn my eyes and I bite down on my tongue to stop them from spilling, but they insist. The force behind them is too much, so I let them fall. I let them silently wet my cheeks and roll across my dry lips. “Skull knows. He was glaring at me. He knows.”

  “Skull do
esn’t know shit,” Jai spits, his distaste for Skull coming through loud and clear. “He likes to intimidate people, that’s all. You have a kind face—like a kitten. He wanted to scare you.” Jai lets out a heavy exhale when a sniffle from me gives away the fact I’m crying. “Look, I’ll help you, okay? I can’t do much, but I’m sure there’s something I can teach you before your fight rolls around.”

  I swipe my arm across my face. “Why would you help me? After everything I’ve done?”

  He ponders for a second and I wish I could see his face, read his emotions. “Because even though you’re a giant pain in my ass and a distraction from my goal, you seem like a good person.”

  Of their own accord, the corners of my lips twitch.

  “And you owe me ten grand, which I’m going to need back as soon as possible,” he adds, forcing my twitch to fall.

  Jai rolls on his bed, turning his back to me. It’s clear that conversation time is over. I drop my head into my knees and hug my legs, unable to find the energy to properly set myself up and lie down. I figure it’s no different. Sitting or lying, I’m not getting any sleep tonight.

  Trash

  My eyes shoot open as a loud squeal pierces my eardrum and vibrates over the surface of my brain. Light footsteps and a girly giggle as two people sneak past our little nook. I rub my heavy, aching eyes as the two laugh and speak in flirtatious tones. Naturally, when he catches her, their not-so-quiet dirty talk echoes down the tunnel. It’s so clear, they might as well be speaking directly into my ear. Privacy is something you just don’t have down here and I wonder if they know the people who sleep in this tunnel can hear him tell her how badly he wants to put it in her ass.

  It turns out, despite my uneasiness last night, I fell asleep. I’m not surprised. I’d worked an eleven-hour shift at the hospital prior to the stunt that landed me down here. I was exhausted before I’d stepped foot on the train. When I’d finally sat down on my bed, my body gave in and a dreamless sleep took over me. Yawning, I check the small, silver fob watch pinned to the breast pocket of my plum shirt. It reckons it’s nine a.m. but I can’t tell. The light is the same now as it was when I fell asleep. It’s only been a few hours, but there’s an endless list of things I’d do to see the sun again, or smell fresh air.