Page 54 of Knockout Queen

I start to get up, but Johnny stops me. He moves his gaze to my face, holding my attention. “I’ve been distracting myself, but there’s one more thing I have to say. My dad wants me to tell you what it means to be in the Crew. It means doing things that you never would for the sake of a bigger cause. It means putting away your own selfish thoughts and focusing on something bigger. He got rid of my mom because she started to gain a conscience. She was no longer the meek girl he used for his purposes.” His chest deflates. “I know you’re worried about Brawler, and the truth is, it’s only going to get worse. Setting fire to something is nothing in the grand scheme of things. My dad tests your boundaries. He warps your brain. He makes you do stuff he can hold over your head because if you ever do grow a conscience and want to get out, there’s no fucking way you could. Do you understand what I’m saying, Kyla?”

“I think so?” I answer, but the truth is, I’m completely distracted. Johnny thinks he can’t get out. That’s what this is about. Right? A surge of hope cascades over me. Does he want to get out? If he does, what I want to do will only help him.

“Everyone who’s moved up has had to do things that will turn your stomach. Even my dad...” Johnny shakes his head. “I don’t know the whole story, but I know when Mayhem retired and he was going to take over, he killed two people. Just randomly.”

My stomach tightens. Wait. What?

“Mayhem took him for a drive. They weren’t even in the Heights. They were gone for days. Dad was excited about what it meant. He was chomping at the bit. He’d do anything to move up the ranks. When they came back, there was a huge celebration. They even took photos. All I remember is seeing two dead bodies lying in the middle of an alleyway. A woman and a man. Nameless to me. Nameless to them. I was only fourteen, but they made sure I was a part of it all.”

Bile pours up my throat, threatening to spill all over the place.

Johnny is clueless to the storm brewing inside me. He continues telling his story, not realizing how ours interconnect. “Mayhem made him kill a random couple on the street just to prove he’d do anything for the Crew, and my dad carries that tactic to today. If you’ll kill for no reason at all, what won’t you do for the Crew?”

I scramble off the bed. I run to the bathroom and expel the contents of my stomach into the pristine ceramic bowl. My stomach keeps revolting and revolting until I’m only dry heaving. I already knew the tragic part of his story but picturing a young Johnny at a meeting celebrating the death of my parents makes me sick on a whole new level.

Johnny moves behind me and tries to comfort me, but I pull away from him. I slide across the bathroom tile, wiping my hand over my lips. My throat burns. My eyes burn. A tang in my nostrils makes them flare.

Now I know. Now I know the truly senseless reason why I ended up with no one. Because some heartless bastards chose my parents randomly so Big Daddy K could take over the Crew. So he could rule people with the same senselessness. So he could force people to ruin other people’s lives.

I lurch forward for the toilet again, but nothing comes out. I stand on shaky legs and wipe the vomit from my mouth with the back of my hand. “Where’s your gun?”

I move away from the toilet and catch Johnny’s gaze in the mirror. He looks lost. “What? Kyla…”

“Your gun,” I demand, standing there calmly. I bend to wash my face with water. I swish water in my mouth and then spit it out until my mouth doesn’t feel like something died in it. Johnny still hasn’t answered me by the time I’m done, so I push past him and scour his suite. I look in all the usual places. The end table by the couch. The closet by the main door. I even look behind the TV.

“Kyla...”

“Where’s your fucking gun, Johnny?”

“What’s going on?”

“I need it!”

He tries to come to me, but I smack his hands away. The hurt that lances his face doesn’t even touch my pain. Nowhere near. “Just calm down,” he says. “What do you need my gun for? You can have it. You know I’d give you anything.”

I stand in the middle of his living room, breaths heaving out of me until I’m gulping in air like a crazy person. “I just need it.”

He shakes his head. He comes toward me again. “Are you okay? I’m worried.”

I try to wriggle out of his grasp again, but he holds on tight. We wrestle back and forth. I’m scratching and clawing, but Johnny holds me with a protective fierceness I can’t get through despite his injuries. Maybe if I was in my right mind, I’d be able to. I’d incorporate my training, but at the moment, all that is lost. All I see is fucking red.

My parents’ blood.

Hate.

Anger.

Fear.

I’ve held off long enough. This shit needs to stop. “Johnny,” I roar.

Johnny wrestles me into the bedroom, surprisingly strong though I can tell it’s taking a lot out of him. He pins me on the bed. The side of my face smooshes against the mattress. I’m still trying to get out of his grip, so I don’t notice he’s talking. Not until I hear him shout, “Magnum.”

I breathe out hoarsely.

“It’s Kyla. I don’t know what’s wrong. You guys need to get here now.”

23

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