Page 31 of Knights Game

Blood lust drives him, “Levi, move!” ducking down as the sounds of shots ring out. Our men taking cover as bullets begin to fly.

His gaze falls on Duchess, standing by the bar, a gun in her hand.

“Fucking move!” I shout again, dropping behind the front row of chairs. Levi rolls with the grace of a seasoned gymnast, and runs towards Duchess, grabbing her before taking cover behind the bar.

“Rome!” I yell, grabbing my own gun from where it was tucked and I poke my head over the chair to get a visual on who the fuck is where. No easy feat when bullets are flying.

“Two o’clock,” he shouts, and I spot him with two of Duchess’ girls.

“Get ready, boys,” a female voice rings out above the shots, from behind the bar. Duchess holds up two bottles of alcohol with linen in the top. Molotov cocktails.

“Are you insane?” My eyes widen as she launches the bottles into the chaos, one landing in centre ring, lighting the remainsof the Albanian, the second towards the seat where Arben Marku was last seen. As she ducks, Levi appears and launches the next two.

The missiles hit, and fire explodes, spreading across the room, the plush fabrics that surround the support beams, and the velvet drapes that gave the club a rich and indulgent feel accelerate the blaze.

Smoke billows around, the poisonous tendrils encroaching on the men where they seek shelter, the heat already unbearably stifling.

Everyone stops firing, the sound of shots replaced by the sound of roaring fire, men from both sides disperse through the various doors onto the street. I crouch-run to where Levi and Duchess are sitting, laughing like naughty children behind the imposing oak bar.

Not many things shock me but seeing Levi carefree with Duchess is something that will give me nightmares. They look positively unhinged.

“Are you two staying here and burning to death?”

Levi quickly adopts his usual bored expression. “You had one job, Luca…stop any trouble.”

“Not now,” Duchess says quickly. “Are the girls out?”

“Rome’s with two of them, I’m assuming the rest were closer to the doors. Burning the place down seems a bit extreme.” I raise an eyebrow.

She shrugs. “Fire damage is easier to explain than bullet holes. Besides, it needed a refurbishment. The sprinkler system will kick in any second now.” The words have barely left her mouth when the little units that pepper the ceiling burst into action and start dousing the flames. “Right on schedule. You guys better go. It would be great if you could take your Albanian friend with you.”

Levi looks over my shoulder and I follow his gaze to the burnt-out remains of the fighter.

“Toasty,” Levi says and Duchess grins at him with a manic twinkle in her eye.

Fucking fruit cakes, the pair of them.

I look at the devastation that was created in less than five minutes, the last of the flames extinguished, a layer of water over everything, mixing with the blood of the fighter in the ring.

“We have two minutes,” I call out over the showering water. I spin my finger. “Wrap it up.”

Bennett, Fletcher, and Jackson start a quick walk-about with Levi’s men in tow. Every so often they bend down and pick up a bullet casing. Roman joins them, pulling on surgical gloves.

“Rome,” Duchess calls, climbing out from behind the bar.

She drops her high-heeled shoes on the top of it and pulls her red dress down her long bronze legs, ties her blonde hair in a messy bun as she walks over to Roman.

Isabella Langley, the rightful heir to the Langley seat. She started going by Duchess when she turned her back on her family, and as far as her idiotic father is aware, she’s in North America. Terrance, completely oblivious that his daughter is right under his nose, thriving.

“The girls?”

“Safe, they wanted to come back in to help, but I’ve sent them to Jade’s.” Rome climbs into what is left of the ring, “How are you going to explain this?”

“That,” Duchess points to the body, “you are taking with you. This,” she points to the ring, “was the Women’s Wrestling Night we were prepping for that’s on Saturday.” She nods to the wall, where there’s a poster advertising the event. “What is it you always say, ‘Always be prepared,' remember!” She turns her nose up at the burnt remains. “Now get this crispy fried body out of here. You don’t have long.”

“Any other ones?” Levi asks, stepping into the ring as Roman crouches and prods the body with his gloved hands.

“I think it should be safe to pick up.” He pulls out more gloves and passes them to me and Levi.

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