SWNOVELS By Frenzy I Ruin: Chapter 8
When we stepped inside, my breath halted. The bar was filled to the brim with guests, mainly men. Every table was occupied and even the booth along the concrete walls. People who hadn’t found a seating place stood against the walls to watch the spectacle as well. The wall beside the bar was decorated with red neon tubes encircled with barbed wire that said words like Blood, Sweat, and Courage. The stench of smoke, sweat, and alcohol carried in the air. Some guests smoked inside, so I wasn’t sure why the others had fled outside to do so. My eyes were drawn to the huge fighting cage in the center. The mesh looked like chicken wire, but I knew it was much sturdier to withstand the impacts. Two men and a referee were inside of it as the first fight of the evening was about to begin.
Nevio threw his arm around my shoulders with a teasing smile and took a deep breath. I was momentarily startled by his closeness, especially in such a public place. Even if this was a solely friendly gesture, people in our circles loved to draw the wrong conclusions and spread false rumors.
“This is the scent of pure adrenaline. Isn’t it intoxicating?” Nevio asked in a low, compelling voice.
I drew in another, slightly deeper breath, and was once again hit with the odor of sweat and alcohol. I gave Nevio a doubtful look.
I spotted Carlotta in a booth with Diego. Antonia was at their table too, but you could tell from her stressed expression that she was on the jump to get back to work behind the bar. Her cocktails were famous, so she was definitely needed back there.
Carlotta spotted me, her eyes darting between Nevio and me, then his arm around me, before she waved me toward them.
“Do you need to get changed?” I asked the guys.
“Not yet,” Nevio said. We all headed over to Diego and Carlotta. Dozens of gazes followed us, and I could see that many of them lingered on Nevio and me. Rumors would definitely be floating around soon. Just what I needed to get Dad off my back.
“You realize people will think you’re staking your claim on Aurora, right?” Carlotta said the moment the guys and I arrived at the table.
I gave her a shocked look. She was usually such a calm person, but Nevio really brought out the tiger in her.
Nevio bared his teeth. “Let them draw whatever conclusions they want. That’s not my problem.”
“But it’s Aurora’s. If guys think she’s yours, nobody will approach her parents to ask for her hand.”
Nevio let out a laugh. “How about you worry about your own untouchable status because it’s firming up.” He looked at Massimo, who had his eyes on Carlotta with a look everyone around would understand as possessive.
Carlotta flushed as she glanced at her brother Diego, who’d listened to everything with utmost interest. “No stake-claiming whatsoever, understood?” he growled at the guys, then briefly smiled at me before giving the guys another stern look. “I’m going to talk to a few people. I assume you’ll be around until your fights.”
“Sure thing,” Nevio said, drawing me closer to his side. I knew it was meant as a friendly gesture, but under everyone’s attention, I still blushed as if he’d kissed me. Diego didn’t comment, only left with a shake of his head. It felt good to be pressed up to Nevio’s muscled body like that. The back of my head touched his pec, and his fingers were hot against the bare skin of my shoulder.
We all slipped into the booth and ordered drinks, but I was distracted by the whistle of the referee that announced the start of the first fight. I watched with parted lips as both opponents stormed each other like crazy rhinos and began to pummel each other with fists. Blood spurted out of the mouth of the man on the left, but it didn’t stop him, even when he spit something on the ground.
“That was his front tooth,” Nevio said with a nod. My lips curled in disgust.
“Not bad,” Alessio added.
Carlotta sent me a slightly nauseated look. I gave her a shaky smile. Worse than the sight of the blood and brutality were the sounds of a fist or foot hitting another person. The first fight was over within fifteen minutes. The winner grinned his missing-tooth smile at the masses, covered in blood and sweat. His opponent needed support from a friend to get out of the cage. He shook his head at the nurse who offered to check on him. The Camorra employed several doctors and nurses for the fights and the Made Men who got injured on duty.
“A fight shouldn’t be over before one of the fighters can’t stand,” Nevio muttered with a disgusted twist of his mouth.
“If every fight ended fatally or with serious injuries, Antonia wouldn’t find fighters for the fights anymore,” I said. Dad had mentioned how difficult it was to find people who agreed to fight Nevio.
“You underestimate the number of desperate souls out there,” Alessio said.
Maybe. I remembered how Grandma had been on her bad days, when she needed more drugs than Dad had rationed for her, when her despair streamed out of her every pore. She probably would have entered a cage too if it promised relief.
Two hours later, it was Nevio’s turn. He didn’t bother going into the changing room. He simply got up and pulled his T-shirt over his head right beside me. My eyes did their usual routine of scanning his abs, pecs, biceps, and of course my insides warmed at the sight.
I’d never really paid close attention to the tattoo on his back. It was impossible not to look at it of course. the grotesque smile of the Joker (just the mouth, not the rest of his face), the “Why so serious?” in blurred red letters, followed by a long string of crossed out HAHAHAHA. I was fairly sure there had been less crossed out hahaha’s the last time I’d seen Nevio without a shirt. Alessio leaned over to me. “It’s his tally list.”
I pursed my lips. “Of won fights?” I asked, but I didn’t remember any fights since I’d last seen his back. Maybe he counted test fights as well? The number of H and A seemed too low for that, considering how often Nevio had fight training with Massimo, Alessio, and the other men of his family. On the other hand, he always had strong opponents, so even as someone with his talent, he couldn’t always win.
Nevio walked toward the cage at a relaxed pace, every muscle in his back flexing in the most tantalizing way, and even though his fight shorts were loose, you could see his firm ass in them. Some people pointed at the tattoo on his back, and their expressions varied from impressed to concerned.
“Not quite,” Alessio said. “It’s the number of people he killed. He only got the tattoo this year, but he remembered every fucking kill of his life. Not bad for someone who doesn’t remember the last party.”
I blinked, swallowed, my gaze darting between Nevio’s back and Alessio’s amused face. Was he pulling my leg?
“I’m not joking,” he said. His expression suggested I needed a reality check.
“He’s not,” Massimo said matter-of-factly. My gaze found Nevio again, but from a distance, and at my current angle, I had no way of counting just how many crossed-out letters there were.
“How many letters are there?” I asked quietly.
“Every vertical line of each letter stands for a kill. So one H equals two kills.”
“What about the horizontal cross-out line?” I asked a bit tonelessly. As if it mattered. There had been many letters on Nevio’s back, even more vertical lines. Way too many.
“They’re just for fun, no meaning,” Alessio said. “You probably shouldn’t count next time you see him close-up.” He smiled strangely. “Or maybe you should.”
Carlotta shook her head with a disgusted expression, then narrowed her eyes at Massimo. “Do you have a tally list too?”
Alessio chuckled and shook his head.
“I don’t require one,” Massimo said with an expression that suggested he wasn’t sure why Carlotta would even ask.
“He has a mental one.”
“And you?” I cocked an eyebrow. “You three always hang out together. I doubt you’re only sitting by while Nevio and Massimo kill people.” I lowered my voice for the last part as if anyone in this arena didn’t know they were killers. The noise level had risen up to painful dimensions when Nevio climbed up the steps to the cage, so I doubted anyone could eavesdrop anyway.
“Oh, I’m not any better or worse than those two, but I’m not the one smooching with you girls.”
Massimo gave him an exasperated look.
The door to the changing room opened, and Nevio’s opponent stepped out. He was sturdier than Nevio, very muscled but not as defined. A bit of fat had accumulated around his belly. He had a thorn crown inked into his bald skull and a huge skull with Jesus on his chest. The marks of the staking were also tattooed into his wrists and ankles, and his smile was on the verge of insanity.
“He looks crazy,” Carlotta whispered, appalled.
“He is clinically insane,” Massimo commented with a casual shrug as he leaned back in the booth.
“Should he even be here then? He can’t make rational decisions in his state.”
Massimo regarded Carlotta with furrowed brows. “Fighters don’t have to be sane.”
Alessio chuckled. “By society’s standards, none of us are sane considering our murderous tendencies.”
Carlotta looked truly concerned. She lightly touched Massimo’s forearm. “Still. I feel sorry for him.”
“He thinks he’s the incarnation of Jesus, and he attacked a couple of priests because their sermon suggested otherwise,” Massimo said.
Carlotta’s eyes widened, and she looked at the man, who’d by now reached the cage. “Wow.”
“Would you prefer to go outside with me while Nevio fights?” Massimo asked quietly.
I exchanged a look with Alessio, who rolled his eyes with a dry chuckle.
“I’ll be fine,” Carlotta said with a shaky smile.
“Just tell me if you need to go out.”
Stifling a laugh, I turned back to the cage, my belly twisting with nerves. Nevio’s opponent was insane, and insanity could be dangerous. People developed incredible strength if driven by madness. When the man entered the cage, I realized just how much taller and broader than Nevio he was. He was half a head taller than Nevio, who was already 6’4, and he had probably at least sixty pounds on him, though looks could be deceiving. Nevio was all muscle, and those weighed more than fat. Still, fear filled me as I watched the man cross himself with a too-wide grin.
Nevio leaned against the cage with crossed arms and regarded his opponent with condescension. He didn’t look concerned in the slightest.
“This will be a long fight,” Alessio muttered, supporting himself on his elbows and blowing out a long breath.
“You think the guy can beat Nevio?” I whispered.
Massimo shook his head. “No. But Nevio usually toys with these kinds of opponents.”
His relaxed stance changed the moment the referee left the cage and locked the door. I still couldn’t detect a sign of nervousness. He looked hungry and lethal, his dark eyes locked on his opponent with a deadly determination that sent a chill down my spine. Then one corner of his mouth darted up, but this smile—if you could even call it by that name—reminded me so much of the Joker smile on his back that my belly fluttered anxiously.
“I’m divine. Bow at my greatness!” the man shouted.
Nevio pushed himself away from the cage. “First, I’ll shut you up.” The man barreled toward him with a fervor that had the entire cage rattling and shaking under the force of his heavy steps. Nevio sidestepped the attack and aimed a kick at the man’s back, sending him flying against the cage. He whirled around, a wound at his head bleeding, and Nevio’s bare foot hit him under the jaw. The crack of the bone echoed through the arena.
Carlotta raised her palms in front of her face, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the equally brutal and grotesque display.
Massimo and Alessio had been right. Nevio did indeed play with his opponent, kicking and beating him hard, choking him, only to let up and give him time to breathe and recover for another futile attack. Instead of staying on the ground and playing dead like any sane person would have done, the guy attacked Nevio every time, mumbling unintelligent things as he did.
After almost forty minutes, I could see Nevio growing bored, so he aimed a brutal kick against the man’s head. He toppled backward, making the whole cage shake as he collided with the floor and blood spread under him.
Carlotta jumped up, squeezed past me, and rushed outside, followed by Massimo, who gave Diego a sign that he would handle the situation. However, unsurprisingly, Diego still followed them outside.
The referee raised Nevio’s arm above his head as Nevio stared down at his opponent lying at his feet with a look that made it clear he wanted to finish him. To be honest, I wasn’t sure if he had already succeeded. A doctor and nurse rushed into the cage and began treating the guy.
“Maybe you won’t believe it, but this is still the tame version of Nevio’s monster,” Alessio murmured.
I tore my eyes away from the cage to meet Alessio’s gaze.
“Still no second thoughts?”
I pursed my lips. He chuckled and shrugged.
The clang of the cage door drew my attention back to the cage where Nevio was climbing down the steps. He didn’t return to the changing room, though. Instead, he headed straight to the entrance door and went outside. The doc and nurse administered CPR, then let up.
“Another one for the tally list,” Alessio said.
“I’ll check on Nevio,” I said apologetically. “Are you okay here by yourself?”
Alessio gave me a grin. “Don’t worry about me.”
Nevio
I stalked past Massimo and Diego, who were trying to console a distraught-looking Carlotta. What had she expected? I bet Diego had told her enough horror stories so this fight couldn’t have been a surprise. I wasn’t in the mood for this shit.
I didn’t stop until I reached the back of the building where the dumpsters were, far away from damsels in distress. There I leaned against the wall and stared up at the night sky. It never really got dark in the city. The lights masked the sky’s true blackness, making it appear less all-consuming than it was.
I chuckled and ran a hand through my sweaty hair. My heart rate had already come down. Fights like this rarely kept up my adrenaline for long.
They weren’t satisfying. I liked the thrill of the hunt, the panic of an unsuspecting victim, the freedom of torturing someone to death by whatever means that struck my fancy that day. Cage fights were tame entertainment for the masses. They weren’t what I craved. They were like a small tease, a minuscule starter that only made you hungry for more.
Fuck, I wanted to maim and kill. I hoped Alessio and Massimo were still in the mood for a raid after their fights.
Soft steps sounded. My head whirled around, the hunter jumping at the chance of having a quick fix, but my eyes landed on Aurora. She hovered near the corner of the building and watched me with concern-filled eyes. “Are you okay?”
Another carnal need reared its head, one I’d never felt around Rory. One I’d never allowed myself around her. She took a few steps toward me. My eyes took in her elegant shoulders, narrow waist, and defined belly. Then I dragged my gaze back up to her face.
It was so full of innocent worry for me that I got a fucking grip on myself. I really needed to head out for a hunt.
“Is he dead?” I asked.
“Yes. They tried CPR, but it was futile,” Aurora said quietly. There was no judgment in her voice, no drama or pity either.
I nodded. I’d known the last kick would do him in. I’d hoped it would give me a greater sense of satisfaction but no.
Aurora came closer and stopped in front of me, holding out a tissue. “I forgot to pick up a towel on the way. But this is good for his blood on your face.”
“I don’t see where it is,” I said. Not that I cared if I had his blood on my skin. I’d been covered in people’s blood from head to toe before. It was half the fun of torture.
“Do you want me to clean your face?” Aurora asked, holding up the tissue.
“Sure.” I watched her closely as she gently touched the tissue to my cheek, then my chin and forehead.
“Do I have something on my face?” she asked with a nervous laugh, her blue eyes searching mine.
“Always the wrong emotion.”
Her brows pulled together. She lowered her hand with the tissue. I shook my head with a dark chuckle and straightened from the wall, bringing Aurora and me closer. “Always compassion, understanding, concern…” I trailed off because the other emotions I sometimes caught on her face were even more dangerous.
I touched two fingers to her cheek and bent down until our lips were almost touching. Aurora froze, her eyes widening, lips parting. Hope shone on her face. Hope for what? The only thing I could give her was a hard fuck against this wall with my fingers around her throat. My pulse quickened, my heart beating faster than during any moment of my fight tonight.
“One day, there’s going to be hate on your face when you look at me, and that’ll be the right emotion, Rory.”
I kissed her cheek right by the corner of her mouth. The scent of her lip gloss, like my favorite cookie dough, filled my nose. I pulled back. Rory’s eyes darted all over my face in utter confusion.
Someone cleared their throat, and I stepped away from Aurora, then headed to Diego who watched me wearily. When I tried to pass him by, he grabbed my forearm. “This could have been Fabiano instead of me.”
“I guess we’re lucky it wasn’t,” I murmured with a hungry smile. Because tonight I wasn’t sure if I would have held back the monster even against someone who I had known all my life. Diego shook his head and released me. He glanced at Rory, who was still standing by the dumpsters, and watched us in confusion.
Diego had the look of someone who had been forced to witness a ninety-pound bulldog lick a baby because the parents thought the beast could be tamed.
I turned and headed into the night. I wouldn’t wait for Alessio and Massimo. I needed the hunt now.