Page 1 of Queen of Anarchy (Dirty Broken Savages 2)

1

River

Lights flashbehind us as the Kings of Chaos drag me toward their car. I’m still in the fancy-ass dress I put on for the gala earlier tonight, and the fabric twists between my legs as we practically jog down the street.

I feel like I’m in a daze, stumbling along after the guys and letting them lead me wherever. They could be taking me to the fucking moon for all I notice.

I’m too in my head, focused on everything that’s happened in such a short span of time. It all swirls around in my mind, confusion and shock and a desperate need to know what the fuck is going on.

Less than a minute later, I’m in the car, buckled up between Priest and Knox, but I hardly notice that either.

Gage pulls away from the curb and drives away from the massive hotel where the gala was being held, away from the sirens and the people streaming out of the building. We got out of the building before most of the crowd, but now people are practically stampeding as they try to get away from the hacked up body of Ivan St. James, splayed out over an expensive piece of art like some sort of macabre sculpture.

Fuck, that’s such a can of goddamn worms.

Even as we drive away, back toward the part of Detroit we—or at least I—belong in, the wail of the sirens keeps going on. The hotel will be swarming with cops, looking for evidence and trying to talk to whoever’s stupid enough to still be hanging around.

I can’t even bring myself to be that worried about it. The body of Ivan St. James showing up on an art piece in the middle of a shitty gala is pretty high on the list of things that shouldn’t have happened tonight, but I’m still stuck on what happenedafterthat reveal.

When people were running and screaming, trying to get away from the already decaying corpse on the golden pedestal, and I ran into that woman.

I’m barely processing anything that happened, but I’m stuck on those eyes. So familiar as they flash in my mind over and over again.

Hannah’s eyes.

My sister’s eyes.

My dead sister’s eyes.

And then I blink, and Ivan’s body appears in my mind’s eye too. Whatever else is going on, that’s still important. It’s hard to think about Hannah and not think about Ivan. I killed him because he was involved in killing my sister, and they were both supposed to be laid to rest in a way. Not put on display to shock a crowd and wandering around a gala to shockme.

The guys are talking around me, but I barely pay attention to what they’re saying. It’s half discussion, half argument, the way things always seem to go with them when they get heated, and only snatches of the conversation filter through the state of shock I’m still in.

“Nobody saw us,” Knox insists, shaking his head and making a few strands of his slightly shaggy black hair fall over his forehead. “You think we wouldn’t have noticed if someone was watching us?”

“I think we weren’t paying close enough attention,” Gage fires back. His deep voice is strained, and he glances at Knox in the rearview mirror, his piercing green eyes flashing.

“Okay, but even if someone was watching, how would they know who it was that we dumped?” Ash puts in. He’s normally the most relaxed of all the men, but the events of tonight have clearly gotten to him too. He lifts his glasses away from his face to rub the bridge of his nose. “St. James was in a bag in pieces. We could have been dumping anything. Did they really dive down there and drag it up on the off chance it was someone they knew?”

“They would have had to know before-hand,” Priest says, speaking for the first time in a long time. He’s got his long-fingered hands steepled in front of his face as if he’s actually a priest and is actually praying.

My brain tries to latch on to everything the men are saying, but it feels impossible to hold on to a single thought for more than a second. I’m still reeling. I feel like the world is spinning out from under me, leaving me off balance and dizzy. Unsettled.

I close my eyes and drag in a deep breath, trying to find some kind of focus, but all that does is send the image of my sister’s eyes flashing through my mind again.

Could Hannah be alive? Is that even possible?

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the chaos and the adrenaline of the whole Ivan thing was playing tricks on me, making me think I saw Hannah’s eyes. I only glimpsed them for a second, and she was already on my mind, so it would make a sick kind of sense in a way.

I have no way to be sure, and the uncertainty settles with a sort of sour pang in my stomach.

Before I know it, we’re back outside my building. Gage stops the car in the parking lot, and I blink for a second, willing my body to move.

Knox slides out on his side, leaving the door open so I can get out as well. When I move, it’s like I’m just realizing that I’m still in the fancy ass dress I wore to the gala.

Getting ready for that thing and walking into the fancy, luxurious space with the guys feels like it happened in another lifetime. And maybe to someone else.

A breeze kicks up, and it cools off my heated skin enough that I can remember how to move. I don’t even say anything to the guys, just turn and start heading for the door of my rundown apartment building, still in a fucking haze.

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