Page 159 of Undisputed Chaos
Maybe he could be my prodigy—it was like looking in a mirror ten years ago.
"I want to get strong like you," he added suddenly, voice still pitched low and dangerous.
“I want to learn to fight. To hurt people. Teach me to break people who threaten those I care about.”
I studied his familiar face, the sharp intelligence behind those blue eyes, the way his jaw clenched like he was already imagining his fists connecting with targets.
"I'll teach you everything," I promised, ruffling his hair with genuine pride. "And I know just the sparring partner for you."
“Who?”
“My coach’s son. His name’s Elliott.”
I grinned. They'd complement each other perfectly. The fire and the fuel. The predator and prey who didn’t know the other was game.
I was already picturing how this would play out.
Elliott's quiet meeting Crew's apparent bloodthirst. The shy kid who blushed, paired with the tall, dangerous boy who looked like he'd rather set the world on fire than take a hit.
It would be beautiful to watch. The shy one learning to embrace his power, the aggressive one learning finesse.
They'd push each other, compete with each other, maybe even…
Yeah. The dynamic was already forming in my head, crystal clear and absolutely perfect.
“He's trained before, but still has that baby face. Solid technique but needs someone to push him harder." I smirked. "You're taller, though, got more of that killer instinct. You'd challenge each other, bring out the best in both of you. "
Something flickered in Crew's expression, anticipation mixed with competitive excitement. "Sounds like good training."
"Exactly. He's got the experience, you've got the fire. Both eager to prove yourselves." I paused. "Perfect sparring match."
I reached out, ruffling his hair lightly. “Now get some sleep and watch that mouth when she wakes up. I'll be back before morning."
"I've got her," he said simply, and I believed him. The protective instinct ran strong in the Hills family.
Rising to my full height, I allowed myself one more look at Isla, my angel, my obsession, the center of my fucking universe.
She'd been through hell because of Noah, and now it was time to return the favor with lots of interest.
The walk to my private garage was a ritual of transformation.
With each step, Adrian the boyfriend, faded away, replaced by the monster I kept carefully leashed around Isla.
By the time the garage doors opened, revealing our black party bus in its designated spot, the predator was fully awake.
The vehicle was a work of art—heavily customized, windows tinted beyond legal limits, body reinforced to withstand direct hits.
It had carried us through countless nights like this one, silent and loyal as a hunting hound.
I tossed the duffel into the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel, my phone lighting up with a text as the engine came to life.
Connor
Everything’s ready.
Perfect. My brothers had retrieved Noah from the clinic where they'd deposited him earlier—a little transaction aided by a substantial "donation" to the right administrative fund.
The beauty of money was how efficiently it greased wheels that should, ethically, remain immovable.
