1. ~Levi~

1

~Levi~

Take your punishment, bitch.

Blood sprayed.

The crunch of bone sounded.

The arousing cry of pain rang out, rolling right through me.

Fuck, yeah, that's the stuff.

I was surrounded on all sides by vultures.

Fucking savages who got off on blood being spilled, men breaking before their eyes.

I wasn't judging what got their rocks off, just that they were mere spectators, never getting in on the action, needing others to give them what they needed.

Namely, the likes of me.

I crooked my finger at my opponent as I bounced on the balls of my feet, sweat dripping down my bare chest and along the waistband of my black cargo pants.

The guy snarled and it turned into him choking on account of me just shattering his nose.

He had about thirty pounds of muscle on me and while I was barely six-foot-tall, he boasted another six inches easy on me.

Shame he relied way too much on that.

It was really biting him in the ass tonight with going up against me.

Not to mention, I was no stranger to this shit.

Although, it had been a while since I'd been in the street fighting game.

And I was making one fuck of an epic return.

One for the goddamn ages, in all honesty.

He came at me, his movements lethargic and strained. It had him throwing a punch with no aim and finesse whatsoever. It went wide, completely missing me and he staggered at the weight of the miss.

A simple knee to the gut from me had him grunting and doubling over.

I followed it up with a hammer fist to the back of his neck, driving him down to his knees.

I moved in to finish it.

I'd gotten what I'd needed from the fight already.

I'd reached that high that only a brutal bout of violence could provide.

I'd tasted blood, basked in the pain I'd inflicted.

And, most of all, I'd exerted complete and utter domination over a threat.

He groaned, turning so his back was to me.

On a first look, it would have appeared that he was taking that position to make it easier to get back to his feet.

Fortunately, I never just stopped at the surface with anything.

That was how fools were made.

So I had an eagle-eye focus on him, enabling me to see his fingers trying to delve discreetly into the front pocket of his bulky, oversized sweats.

He was retrieving something.

A weapon, no doubt.

Something that was outlawed in these fights.

It was bare-knuckle all the way.

Sure enough, as he made a show of pushing to his feet, I caught sight of the glint of metal, noticeable even through the dark of night and the back alley only being lit by a couple of muted streetlights, one constantly flickering because it was on the verge of burning out entirely.

He spun and swung his fist—too slow as usual, as he had been this entire fight—and I was ready, snagging his wrist and stopping what would have been all that metal slicing my face open enough to permanently scar. Been there, done that. Not looking to repeat it. The jagged scar down the left side of my throat told that story all too well.

"You're humiliating yourself," I spat, as I took in the brass knuckles now decorating his right fist. Pimped out ones at that, all fucking polished to the point that they were sparkling, which had given their presence away far too early for him to make the sneak attack he'd clearly intended with them.

" Hellraiser," he growled back at me.

I hadn't heard that name in a long time.

I grinned, baring my teeth. "That's right, motherfucker."

In the next beat, I shifted my grip on his hand, avoided all the metal, then I yanked it down, while driving my knee up at the same time.

A telltale snap sounded as the strategic impact broke his wrist, the weak bastard shrieking out down the alley.

Those shrieks only intensified as I yanked him around by his damaged wrist, kicked his legs out from under him, then forced him into a sleeper hold, while he flailed uselessly on the ground.

It wasn't long before I heard that expected slap on the rough ground as he tapped out.

I held on a little longer than was necessary, reveling in the sight of him turning purple and coming close to taking his last breath.

"Lev!" the ref and fight organizer called, and I looked out to see the familiar figure of Sammy Higgins shaking his head at me, his long dirty-blond hair whipping around him from the vehement movements.

With a grunt, I released the sorry shit in my hold, then rose to my full height.

The crowds parted and Sammy strode into the fray, then grasped my hand and held it high, solidifying that I was the victor.

Roars, applause, and high-pitched whistles rang out.

But I was only focused on one particular aspect of the celebration.

The chants.

"Knight! Knight! Knight!"

They worshipped me.

Damn fucking straight.

As it started to die down a little and Sammy's two assistants dragged my opponent away to get him the medical attention he most definitely needed, Sammy guided me off to the side where I'd left my black hoodie earlier.

I snatched it up and shrugged it on, flipping the hood up.

"I asked you to own the trumped-up shithead and put him out of the street fighting racket for a good long while, not kill him, Lev."

I shrugged. "I got a little carried away."

"Don't get me wrong, Alec's been causing me a load of bullshit. The punishment you delivered was warranted and a sight to behold. Really put him in his place. While you were gone, a bunch of these up-and-comers thought they could take control, even challenging me. And Alec was the worst."

"Unfounded arrogance was their mistake. Also, coming at you."

Sammy was a lot more than the organizer of the these fights in the college town of Stonewell. He was the lifeblood of the criminal underground here. Small-time stuff, sure, but a lot of it. He also had his ear to the ground in a major way, and he'd proven to be a font of information.

"You sure you don't want the cash?" he asked, pulling it from his pocket and making a show of counting the thick wad of bills. "It's a major payday. It being your first street fight in over a year brought in a massive crowd."

I looked him up and down.

He hadn't changed at all in the time that I'd been gone, still wearing those velour tracksuits of his, currently a navy one that blended well into the night.

The same couldn't be said for the thick, gold chains hanging around his neck, nor the bling decorating his fingers.

"What I want is for you to fulfill your end of our deal."

He stowed the money away. "Of course. Just checking."

"Do you have it?" I pushed.

Him not offering it up immediately pointed to him wanting to engage me in a conversation to catch up since I'd been away. Unfortunately for him, I had no desire to do that right now and no patience for it.

I was laser-focused on one thing only.

He gave a nod. "Yeah, I've got the street level intel you wanted, the kind you can't get via your usual means. As promised, I've had eyes on the girl." He lowered the zipper of his jacket and reached in, pulling out an unmarked envelope. Handing it over, he told me, "This is everything."

I took it and shoved it into the back pocket of my cargo pants. "Good."

"You want me to continue watching?"

"No. Have your people stand down. I'll take it from here."

"All right. I'll be seeing you around now that you're home, yeah?"

"In all likelihood," I responded, non-committal. I didn't like to shoehorn myself in.

He grinned. "Some things never change."

I merely smiled, then turned on my heel to go.

"Hey, out of curiosity, what's your fixation with this girl? Seems pretty damn inconsequential, especially to the likes of you."

I stopped in my tracks, his question cutting into me.

I ground my teeth, then sucked in a breath, and only just managed to answer steadily over my shoulder, "She's far from inconsequential."

"How's that?"

"She's an angel among demons."

His brow furrowed with confusion.

All right, it was much closer to shock.

He knew, just as well as anybody I allowed to become a familiar of mine, that I didn't see the best in people.

Far from it.

I'd learned well not to.

The nightmare of six years ago had solidified that.

But when it came to her , it was different.

Everything was different.

She stood apart from all of that.

I turned away and continued out of the back alley, leaving Sammy stumped.

It had taken a great deal of self-control—something I wasn't exactly known for—not to return home the moment I'd gotten word that she'd been walking the halls of Stonewell University shortly after I'd left. I'd had to resist the overwhelming urge to make contact. I'd had to stay the course with what I'd been embroiled in at the time, over the entirety of the last year actually.

But that was done with, that phase complete.

I was here now.

And one reason was because of her.

For her.

It was finally time.

I smiled to myself as the anticipation coursed through me.

Brace yourself, Stonewell.

Levi Knight is back.