Priest and his Anarchist Read Online Amo Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 160578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 642(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
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I push off the ground, standing to my full height. I shouldn’t have let it get that far—I’ve never let it get that far.

She crawls up onto her elbows, her hair a nest of leaves and twigs and her cheeks an embarrassed shade of pink. “What are you doing?”

Leaning down, I scoop up her dress and throw it at her. “Get up.”

Using the dress as a blanket, she stumbles to her feet before falling over in a fit of coughs.

“Fuck.” I bend down, zipping her dress up at the back before forcing her around until her eyes are on mine. “What, Madness?”

She blinks back at me. “I should have never followed the white rabbit.”

Chapter Ten

priest

present

Luna Nox isn’t another name on my wall. She’s the artist. She knows it, I know it, and if I am not careful, everyone will know it.

I lean farther back into my chair as my thigh touches Vaden’s. He’s fixed on the stage, as if pleading with the universe to bring her back to him. There were times I questioned her importance to him, but I always came to the same conclusion. If she did, Vaden would have fought harder for her.

Midnight Mayhem is well known in all circles, but became entwined with ours when Eli Rebellis decided to bed two Midnight Mayhem members.

And then had little Luna Nox after.

“She’s been here? For how long?” Vaden leans farther into me as the lights dip and the signature ambiance of lilac settles. With far-spaced booths that curl inward to a U, they offer more than enough privacy for the playground of the rich, famous, and horny. I find it boring.

Usually.

I ignore his question. It’s been four or so years since we’ve last seen her, and after the little episode at Mom’s charity gala, I’m surprised her mother hasn’t chopped my balls off and served them to me on a dinner plate, which tells me one thing.

She doesn’t know.

What, or should I say who, has my little Madness told after all these years…

LED strips line the half-moon stage, before satin curtains part and reveal a girl with long legs and cropped hair.

“Welcome to Midnight Mayhem.” Her cherry-red lips glisten against the light when she smirks. “We are not a circus, we are not a carnival.” She moves to the center of the stage as flames ignite in all corners. “And the only thing you’ve got to lose tonight, is your sanity.”

“Answer me.”

Cheap whiskey tests the edges of my glass. “Yes.”

I don’t know why I expected Vaden to drop it there. I should have known better. He doesn’t know how to drop a subject, especially if it involves the girl he spent a good chunk of his first years being fascinated by.

“And she’s been here? Playing happy crazy?” He turns back to the stage as an extensive trapeze-style ring is being wheeled out. “Without me?” He’s like a kid finding out Santa has playdates with his best friend.

“Guess we’re going to find out for sure.” I place my glass on the small table in front of us, pushing it away with my index finger.

“You could be wrong…”

I finally tear my eyes from the front stage and rest them on my best friend. “Why the fuck do you think we’re here?” When he doesn’t answer, I raise a brow. “And when the fuck have I ever been wrong?”

The corner of his mouth curves. “Well, fuck. Okay.” He claps loudly, glaring at the old lady who turns abruptly in her chair to scold him. So much for privacy. “Then the show can go on.”

The ritual is in a few days, and as much as I’m sure she’s going to despise coming back into our world after how we left her all those years ago, even Luna Nox answers to the hand of a King. Anarchist and all.

My phone vibrates against my thigh, distracting me from a girl pouring gasoline over the chest of the man she’s straddling. Damn. That would have been good.

I reach into my pocket, tapping Pop’s name when I see an unread text.

Pop: Still no word. I’ll be back for the ritual and the week after. Then I’m leaving with Bas. Will update you every step of the way.

I type out my reply. Chicago was a bust?

My knee bounces as I wait for his reply. It’s like watching water freeze.

Pop: Nothing there. We’re going international.

I delete the text thread and shove my phone back in my pocket as the sound of a two-stroke engine screams in the distance. Gasoline fumes taint the air like perfume, and I gaze up to the stage. My smirk deepens when the familiar prickle of her chaos touches parts of me I’d rather keep dead. If there was anything that Luna Nox would perform in Midnight Mayhem, it’d have two wheels and be dangerous.


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