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Chapter 2 - Rocky
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2021-07-22 19:46:23Genetic mutation brought on by climate change has divided the human race into three subspecies: leaders the predators and the protectors, dominions the nurturers, and betas who fall in between.
This guy looks like to be a leader, except he's not as powerful as me. Of course, I have yet to meet another male as strong as me, and nope that's not my ego speaking, just hard facts.
I peel back my mouth and my opponent squares his shoulders.
He's shorter than me, leaner, and almost wiry in build.
His brawns flex, and he clasps up his fists in front of him. There is a gun hooked to his belt, a sword on his back.
All props. Not that I don't resort to them when faced with a worthy opponent. This man doesn't seem dangerous. Bet, I can take him with my bare arms, after all, that’s how I survived all this time on the streets. With my guts, my wits, one day at a time.
“Get out of my way.”
He stays where he is, gray eyes, shining with intelligence.
“You have a death wish?” I squeeze my fingers into fists, and my joints pop, the sound loud in the space. And ominous. It’s normally enough to make my opponents pause.
This man angles his head. “Not as much as you, Bastard of the East End.” I stiffen.
He called me by the nickname I have earned, thanks in no small part to the bodies I have left in my wake over the years; clearly, he knew I was coming. Knows who I am.
“I am done playing games.” I drop to a crouch.
His brawns tense, and I know he’s going to attack me.
His fingers connect his gun, and I rush at him and throw him over my shoulder.
His body hits the ground with a satisfying thump, and he doesn’t move.
Straightening, I rub my palms on my pants and stride away.
Perhaps this man has only brawled in showpiece fights; he doesn’t have what it takes to face me.
My instincts scream a warning a second before a weight slams into me from behind.
I swear even as I go face down, rolling at the last second to break my fall.
Without breaking the move, I rear up and slam my fist straight into his face.
His head snaps back. His fingers loosen on the sword and it falls to the ground. I kick the blade to the side.
With a roar, I grab him around his shoulders, biceps straining, every brawn in my body coiled, and I sling him away.
He goes rolling through the undergrowth. The leaves from the shrubs rain down on him. He swings up to his legs, and I am already charging him.
I headbutt him, and our combined weight smashes him backward into a tree. The vibrations from the impact ricochet through my neck. Suffering slashes down my spine, but it’s nothing compared to the white-hot regret that squeezes my chest. Nothing comes between me and my mission. Nothing. Rage fills me, my vision narrows, and all I know is I need revenge for what the General did to my mother.
“I am going to tear your guts out.” I interlace my fingers before raising my fists over my head.
The man pushes away from the tree and to the side, and my fists slam into the tree trunk. There’s a screech, a loud groaning, and I look up to see a massive branch barreling down on me.
Then I’m being pulled aside.
I go tumbling down, hit a hydrangea bush, careen through it and crash into a pond.
The cold water pours over me. I swallow, then cough and spit it up. I hit the shallow bottom only to push myself up. I manage to stand, the water sluicing from my shoulders, down my chest. To my surprise, I find my head is clearer than it was. And that idiot saved my life.
I straighten and look around, only to find him surfacing less than a foot away.
I wade through the water, the other man closes behind me.
When I reach the shore, I swivel to face him.
He pauses and clasps my look warily.
“Why?” I growl, raking my fingers through my hair.
“Why did I save you?” He angles his head. “For the same reason that you could have murdered me and you didn’t.”
“A mistake I am beginning to regret.” I curl my fingers into fists at my sides. “You knew my name. Knew I was coming, how?”
“I am going to help you.”
“Is that right?” I smirk.
His sound is serious. “You are here to murder the General, and I want you to succeed.”
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“Don’t shit with me.” I march to him, grab him by the collar, and haul him up to his toes. He’s slimmer than me, but he’s still heavy. My brawns protest as I take the bulk of his weight.He doesn’t blink, just stays calm, and I am struck with the realization that the idiot is telling me the truth.I let him go so suddenly he loses his balance.He rights himself then clasps out his hand. “I’m John.”I double over my arms over my chest. “And I don’t like owing debts.”“I had you followed—not difficult given you are the only leader to rise out of the East End, who they all turn to for direction.”“So you know my whereabouts… big shiting deal. It’s not like my movements are exactly a secret.” I crack my neck. It’s time to put an end to this charade. “What do you want?”He clasps up his arms, palms face up. &
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The warmth from his body surrounds me. I wallow in it, burrowing in even deeper. The sense of the planes rippling under my fingertips makes me want to stretch out my fingers so every part is in contact with those ripped brawns. The fragrance of him, earthy and woodsy like burned cinnamon and liberally laced with testosterone pours over me.I know I am dreaming, yet I can't stop my womb from contracting. Slick flows out from between my legs. I smell the sugary sweet smell of my own arousal. That turns me on even more. "Leader." I raise my look to his face.A growl rumbles up his chest and twines around me. The depth in the tone snatches at my nerve endings.My shoulders shudder. Warmth flushes my cheeks.His brown eyes narrow on me. Silver and so many shades of turquoise burn in their depths. There is lust—so much lust—in his look, and something else, something feral and untamed. He is going to break me, I know that with every molecule in my bo
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I swagger up the grand hall in the stronghold. My booted legs echo on the wooden ground. Massive windows at the side let in the bluish-gray light of the day. The room is packed with leaders who belonged to Alter’s Council. I pass close to one of them, and he steps aside. When I turn to meet his look, he lowers his head. The stink of tension reinforces the air, and the hair on the nape of my neck rises. They are afraid of me. Good. I sense their look following me, yet not one of them tries to stop me. The losers have come to watch the entertainment for today, provided courtesy of me. A low chuckle rips out of me.I stride toward the platform at the front of the room.John moves forward as if to climb onto the dais alongside me.I raise a hand.He halts and wrinkles his forehead. “You know the protocol, Rocky.” His sound is cold. “As the interim second to Alter, I am supposed to introduce you to the Council and its associates.”
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