Renegade (Ruthless Tendencies Book 2) Read online

  I cut my losses, wash my hands and dissolve the memories then and there, done. Never looking back. If we see each other, best believe that none of that cordial civility bullshit in passing will be up for display or entertained. Second chances are for weak assholes with an obsession for foolery from the same source, insanity. Keep it moving assholes. How I treat you is ultimately based on your actions.

  Perhaps, I’m the winner in this scenario. I’d much rather have those pretenders oust themselves for the backstabbing and useless fuckers they are early on. Wasting my valuable time placing stock into one-sided relationships is a shit lesson you don’t have to teach me twice. I’m a motherfucking quick study.

  Yeah, I’ve been burned a couple of times. A few of those fake ass friends even scored deep. I shrugged it off, licked my wounds and soldiered the fuck up. Powering through that shit made me stronger. Did I ever want to come outta the gates swinging? Fuck yes, I did. Would that have changed the outcome? Other than saddling myself up with a lengthy prison sentence alongside my cousin, Rage Reynolds, no.

  Someone had to take care of shit while Rage was gone. I stepped up and took the captain seat. I couldn’t afford to let my emotions control me. So, I let the weak basic shit slide off my back. Between Club Chaos, Renegade Investigations, and my brothers, my hands were full.

  Even after Rage was released, not one thing changed other than adding his name to the fight night bouts. Oh, revenue and profits went through the damn roof too. His Ruthless Tendencies play out in there well. While mine run free outside of that steel cage, widespread. I’ll corrupt your world from the inside out. Similar to an airborne virus fucking your shit up silently. No cure, ruthless epidemic.

  I still live and breathe this place while running Renegade Investigations. My security firm for the rich and scandalous is a profitable headache as with anything else but it’s mine. High profile celebrities are my specialty. But I have a well-trained staff that handles that chariot of chaos. It’s what they’re paid well to do.

  You wouldn’t believe the shit we get on tape. And I’m not talking about the crazy fucknut fans, no. The god damn celebs are worse than anything they’re trying to keep out. After what I’ve seen with my own eyes from half of the elite money slinging population, those kinky bastards have provided me with a whole different outlook. Each to their own fuckery. I’m no one to judge. Bottom line, having responsibilities keep me grounded and busy.

  Notably, there was only one kick to the dick that left a permanent scar. It’s like the proverbial mark of the beast stamped right in the middle of my ball sack. Her signature of sorts. Even though it’s been years ago, that woman’s heel imprint is still tender to the touch, sore spot. Want to talk about traitor tendencies and switching up alliances? That bitch wears the queens crown. She jumped out of the boat without a life vest or waiting raft. She knew the consequences to come if word got back to me in time.

  Getting over Asia Grace made me an uncaring bastard. Like I said, I’m a quick study. I’m over that little nightmare but I’ve not buried the memory or lessons learned from her betrayal. It aches and tingles from time to time like an old injury when weather permits. Flaring up. That shit is locked in my heart, close. Failing to recognize her shortcomings resulted in me being the fool, tenfold. She was the reason why I changed up my approach quickly. Now, I’ll test your loyalty from the gates before I latch my chain and claim anything, facts.

  Believe me, when recognition hits home and my worth is blindingly shiny, people are quick to try and rectify shit. Lining up with sob stories and apologies leaking from their lips. Too late fuckers. Appreciation after the fact is a foreign concept to me. It’s that damn simple. Well, everyone but Asia. That little ninja of nightmares disappeared into the shadows overnight. Never even bothered throwing up the peace sign but that’s all about to change. That’s right…

  Out of sight, out of mind is a wonderful concept if it were true to form. Consistency in that theory is the key to success or survival in her case. Leaning up from my office chair, I grab my crown and coke. Swirling it around in my hand, I leisurely watch the liquid spin.

  Truth is, I think about her often. Especially now that her best friend, formally known as Reese Walker, has become a permanent fixture in my life and a part of the family. Every time I see Reese’s face all those memories of Asia come falling out of my mind's filing cabinet. Scattering her fucking lies and sealed tight secrets out all over the damn place.

  My cousin Rage finally pulled his head out of his ass. He went after his childhood fixation and nailed down the love of his life. Rage and Reese got married a little over a month ago. Which was the single best fucking thing that ever happened to that asshole. She’s the only exception to his middle finger up approach, no fucks attitude. Can’t blame the guy. Reese is fucking attorney intelligent, sans her Rage hookup decision, and drop-dead gorgeous. He’s one lucky but evil bastard.

  Speaking of the raging beast, here he comes now barging his oversized ass right through my damn door. He never bothers to knock, ever. He just walks his brick-built beefy existence on in like he runs this shit. He may own Club Chaos but he damn sure don’t operate this facility of fear. That’s my job along with my two brothers, Rampage and Rebel. Rage’s job is to bring the Rage to the cage. He does it well, just like me and my brothers successfully manage and maintain every other aspect.

  “Brother, Reese wanted me to make sure you’re still coming to the house Friday. She’s throwing some kind of welcome home party for Asia.” He makes himself at home in one of the chairs in front of my desk. That’s some sturdy fucking furniture to withstand his build.

  “You know I could be in here fucking, right? Try knocking before entering.” I say.

  “Lock the god damn door if you don’t want me walking in then.” He’s one angry asshole. “Answer the question, you Thor looking motherfucker.” He squints his eyes at me. Damn, poking the beast is a fun past time with this asshole. Shit’s too easy.

  “Oh, I plan on dropping in.” I smile wide.

  Wouldn’t miss that fucking reunion for the world. The welcome mat of war will come rolling out for damn sure. Seeing that beautiful beast of fire breathing evil in the flesh is just the beginning of my Hate Wars plan of attack. Kickstarting that party off right is a mission that must be executed with precision.

  “You play nice for my baby girl. Whatever happened with you and Asia is between you two. I’ll kick your fucking ass if you ruin Reese’s party.” Rage says.

  “Is it her party or Asia’s? I’m confused here.” I look back down into my glass eyeballing the round cubes of ice.

  “I don’t give a fuck about any of you dicks. What I care about is Reese. Know that shit right off the bat. Fuck up her party, I’ll clip your goldie-locks off and fuck that face up for you. Don’t bring that history to my house Renegade.” He stands and point's that beefy index finger at me. I know deep down the guy loves me. No doubt though, fucking with Reese will have my ass sipping from a straw while hooked up to a morphine drip. He turns around and marches to the door mumbling, “Gay as fuck manbun bullshit.”

  Chuckling, I turn my crown and coke up and swivel around in my chair. Staring out into the open space beyond my tinted window view of the arena, I smirk while pondering over how dirty things are going to get and soon. The shit I’ve got stored up for our little Asia is epic. Five years is a long time to contemplate my wicked ways and delivery of demented deeds. That bitch will wish she had stayed in LA by the time I’m done.

  They call me Renegade for a reason. That guy has always been around, just years ago, before her, I was the energetic fun-loving football fuckboy, who was also too damn good for her. She slaughtered that gullible prick. Checking that off as a parting gift from her on the list of her fatal fuckery she dealt out before dashing. I intend on showing my appreciation in person.

  My treacherous and rebellious side is reserved for those that are deserving, particularly her. Asia was the ultimate mastermind behind the injected ant
idote that single-handedly setoff this full-blown version of the man that I am. She’s earned nothing more than my cold wicked welcome back home by the dangerous motherfucker that is me.

  Time for her to get acquainted with all my wonderful qualities that she’s responsible for conjuring a manifestation of years ago. She’ll be surprised to find a…

  Dirty Defiance Unrivaled.

  Hostile Retaliation Unleashed.

  A Cold Calculated Bastard.

  Everything that I’ve been saving for her baby brown sugar eyes only.

  Reserved on ice.

  Let the Hate Wars begin bitch.

  chapter 3- asia

  My take on the Chaos Cousins in a nutshell….

  To fill you in a little here, let me break these guys dynamic down for you or at least what I remember. Rage is the Chaos Cousin’s arena king. He’s the fierce bull out of the four. The cousin by birth but brother by protective nature. The main attraction because he paints the cage red using his rage.

  His approach is not layered with verbal warnings. The guy prefers to use his middle finger up sign language. The flesh definition of a raging savage until Reese, his Chaos Queen, and my best friend. Reese is the beast’s weakness but that’s another story altogether. #Rage. Mess with her and his death toll rises.

  Rampage rules the financial aspect of Club Chaos while looking the part of a male sex god lathered up in a business suit. Kingpin and commander of the underworld’s side bets. That man holds the scorecard for every last asshat and cent owed to the house, interest accrues daily. He’s also a Wallstreet mathmagician with epic return.

  But I see what others don’t. He’s the quiet observer. The over-thinker. Analyzing your every move from the shadows. Once the calculating king has his equation figured out, he’s coming for you. A slick little fashionable fucker and in my opinion, well organized. The guy is ten steps ahead of everyone. Ramp’s the one you should always keep your eye on, always.

  Rebel’s the lovable mini Rage look-a-like. He is a techie genius with a heart of gold. All his worries can be solved by the simple flick of a lighter. He’ll smoke and toke any bullshit concerns away. Anything you throw at him will go up in a literal cloud of tangy smoke. Firing up a blunt, getting lit and not giving a shit five minutes later is his key to an anxiety-free lifestyle.

  Don’t let that confuse you though. Rebel can bring virtual hell your way at any given time, cyber cyanide if crossed. It’s like a slow build to over-flowing, it’s all there in black and white with this guy. I see the warning signs labeled “caution”. There’s more and I know it, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint it through his glazed over, half-baked shell.

  Then there’s the energetic, smiling, happy go lucky Renegade. The golden boy of the Chaos cousins. The football star, loving brother, and trusting friend to all. The sensitive and caring soul. Also, the infantry’s frontline point of contact protector, patrolling on the outside of the gates. Keeping his loved ones safe and sound shielded behind him. The muscle coupled with the mind and know-how.

  A man that loves first and uses caution later after you’ve made your intentions clear. His loyalty is beyond comprehension or what anyone would deem healthy. He believes there’s good in everyone and chooses to see that before all else. That is until I came along and ripped his blinders off changing everything. My Renegade.

  For the love of God. I’d rather fight my way out of a boxing ring with Mike Tyson in his ear-biting prime than to walk into Reese’s house right now. I know damn good and well that she planned a welcome home party for me. One that I tried my best to talk her out of throwing.

  Hell, I thought about not showing, skip the shitshow. Debating on whether I should call and pretend to be sick. Then her caring little heart would just show up at my apartment. I’m a bitch for thinking that way, I know. But bigger things are playing out here. Shit… If I bail, Rage is sure to find me and choke the life out of my being.

  That’s the thing about holding onto secrets. People have no concept or clue for the demons you keep locked up inside. Oh sure, they’ll speculate or even make assumptions. In reality, no one has the first inkling for the battles fought within our darkest mindset. Sharing my truths is not happening though. Keeping the one’s I love safe depends on it.

  Maybe I should’ve reconsidered staying in LA. Shit… Too late for that. I’m here now. It’s best to suck it up, trudge on in and greet the folks that are on the other side of those walls. Let’s get this over with.

  Pushing the door open on my sweet ass Chevrolet Corvette Z06, my black Jimmy Choo’s touch down on the asphalt and I step clear of the car. My grey silk halter top and skinny jeans are fashionably sleek. I look put together but my insides are flipping out like a straight-jacket patient, enduring withdrawals of the worst kind. I might as well look fashion fabulous before all hell breaks loose, right?

  My long straight whiskey brown hair is flying freely in the breeze as I approach Rage and Reese’s house. This stamp in time is like a historical landmark and brings back so many memories. Before things went horridly to hell this was the place that sheltered all the guys. And where Renegade went that’s where you could find me too.

  Rage, Renegade, Rebel, and Rampage all lived here. This is where we all hung out together. It was the party pad. Where most of my best and memorable mistakes were made. Renegade being the highlight, the best even midst the worst.

  When I knock on the door, I take a deep breath and steady myself. I roll my eyes when I hear Too Many Years by Kodak Black thumping in the background. Jesus, they must be listening to Rage’s playlist. Then the music is cut, and I hear Reese’s heels click-clacking across the hardwood floor and the door swings open.

  There’s my best friend in the flesh. Her long silky midnight black hair sways through movements, and those emerald sparkling eyes drown out the room behind her. The hope and love I see reflected in her eyes are just a few of the things I’ve missed the most about her, optimistic goals. Reese is tall and curvy gorgeous with not even the slightest clue to how beautiful she really is, inside and out.

  “Oh. My. God.” Reese bounds forward wrapping herself around me and we hug it out. God, I’ve missed my best friend. “I’m so glad you’re home, hooker.”

  “I’ve missed you so much Reese’s Pieces,” I whisper in her ear. Her frame’s shaking and I believe she’s crying. “Please don’t cry because Rage is liable to kill me.”

  When I feel a wet cold nose sniffing my leg, I know that’s Rage and Reese’s golden lab, Ghost. I scratch the beautiful fur baby’s head while comforting my best friend through her tears.

  “He wouldn’t dare touch you. Come on in my naughty ninja sidekick.” She says while pulling me into the house. When she moves to the side, I step through the archway and the entire house erupts in loud shouts from all corners. “Welcome Home Asia!”

  I grab my chest and allow my eyes to scope out the room. Roaming over all the familiar faces but one’s missing. Reese is clapping and everyone joins in. Everyone but him. He’s not here. Not that I expected him to be but that doesn’t stop the hole in my heart from burning a little deeper.

  Rage moves forward and wraps his tree trunk arm around Reese while giving a smile his best effort. The guy’s freaking huge, scary even. “Yo. Bruce Lee’s little sister is in the house.” He says. If he ever has to be a door greeter in his elder years to come, they’ll go hungry.

  “Good to see you too Rage.” I wink at him. “You guys look happy.” My eyes bounce between the two.

  My best friend finally got her man and they look damn good together, complete even. Well, Reese does. Rage just looks intimidating as fuck. Reese is the only one who gets the soft side of Rage. I’m still skeptical that one even exists.

  “We are Asia. But come on in and let’s break open the wine and eat some of your cake. It looks delicious.” Before we have a chance to move I hear a familiar voice and instantly smirk.

  “LA lost a hot asset, that’s for damn sure.” A hand wraps aro
und me and I turn to see it attached to Rampage. Jesus, this guy is hot.

  “Hot damn. Suit candy alert.” I close him up in a hug. “Ramp you look the same, sexy. More refined and polished though. LA would love you.”

  Renegade’s twin brother is regal fine. The scar above his right eye is a sexy plot twist to his godlike facial structure and the impeccable stylish suit pries my eye's attention. Sometimes I wonder if I picked the right brother. This Wall Street Gangster is a whore, but if all the rumors before I left are true, he’s a talented one.

  “And you look fucking lickable Asia.” He pulls back and those grey eyes peel back a layer of clothing off my body with each passing second. He holds my arm up spinning me around in a 360 twirl. “Jesus Christ.” He whistles. I slap his shoulder and we both break out into a fit of laughter. It’s chilling how much he reminds me of Ren.

  “Tone that shit down Ramp.” Rage pins him with a look that brooks no further warning.

  “If he was so worried about things, his ass should’ve been here.” Rampage throws back. I know who they're talking about without asking, and I clear my throat pretending I didn’t hear that last remark.

  “Bring it in my little Karate Kate killer. I want some of that too. C’mon, bring it in here.” Booms out another voice from behind me.

  Pivoting around, I find a red-eyed, arms wide Rebel coming straight for me. His coal-black hair is finely groomed stacked on top of a brick wall sculpted out of sexy love. The loner-stoner hasn’t changed one damn bit. I bridge the distance and the Rage twin look-alike cousin picks me up off the ground twirling me around.

  “Jesus. You two could pass for brothers. Except you’re elegant in appeal and approachable.” I point at Rebel. He’s just drop-dead sexy. Rage is more of a rough bad boy hate-fucking done right.

  “Shit. He wished he looked this good.” Rebel says. Rage simply does what he does best, flips him the bird. Somethings never change.