Jetta - Raven Kennedy Page 0,104

makes me laugh. “God, you hit like a puny ass male.”

“You—”

Holder jumps in between us before Jordy can attack me, screaming into his face. “We gotta fuckin’ go! We have to take her to the pack, untouched.”

Jordy growls, making his displeasure known about that particular edict. He stares at me with hatred over Holder’s shoulder, while I smirk at him, ignoring my throbbing cheek.

Holder turns around and shoves me back in the car, slamming the door behind me.

The males look down at Drag, who’s still passed out on the road.

“What do you wanna do about him?” Holder asks.

“Fuckin’ leave him. His sorry ass shouldn’t have gotten choked out by a female,” Jordy says before getting back in the car.

Holder shrugs and returns to the driver’s seat, wasting no time getting back on the road.

“Wow. Pack loyalty really runs deep with you guys,” I say dryly.

“Shut the fuck up,” Jordy snaps. I can tell by the jump in his jaw muscle that he wishes he could beat the shit out of me, if only his orders hadn’t been to leave me alone.

Sucks to be him.

All too soon, the cop car is pulling up a long dirt road, and I soon realize where the name Rockhead comes from. There’s literally a huge rock with a head carved into it that we pass by, with an ugly male face sneering out of it.

“Huh. And here I thought you guys got your pack name because your heads are filled with rocks for brains.”

Jordy’s teeth grind, but otherwise, he doesn’t react. I guess he’s done playing.

We pull up to a large building lit up only by a few outdoor lights hanging against the stucco. There’s nothing in the front of the building except for parked motorcycles and a large red flag hanging up on the door with Rockhead’s name on it.

Holder parks the car in front and pulls me out of the backseat with a firm grip on my arm. Instead of going inside the building though, he and Jordy lead me around to the back, where I’m instantly hit with the smell of smoke, the sound of a gathered crowd...and music that makes my steps falter.

Troupe Delirium music.

“Keep up, bitch,” Jordy snaps as Holder pulls me toward a massive field in the distance.

I can see a bonfire burning at least ten feet high, and behind it, bleachers have been erected. The bleachers surround a large fighting pit in a half-circle, but instead of just empty dirt for shifters to fight in, the space has obviously been transformed.

A crude wooden stage is set up, partitions being used as walls to block off a backstage area, and more of Rockhead’s flags are hung up, filling in as Troupe Delirium’s curtains.

The closer we get, the louder the sound of the crowd and the music gets. There must be at least a hundred Rockheads gathered, and I can see some of the weaker and smaller pack members running around, serving the audience with fresh beer.

The three of us are approached by a couple more Rockhead jackasses, but I don’t pay any attention. My eyes are riveted on the stage, where my troupe is already performing.

They’re doing the one called The Leaving, about a female betrayer who leaves her pack and gets hunted down for it.

I nearly snort. Typical Kaazu. Always has to be so goddamn dramatic. Leave it to him to set the scene—to turn this into me being the villain. This right here is what he loves, and he never does anything half-assed. It gets him off when he thinks he’s so fucking clever.

The lighting on the stage is green tonight, and I can see Rockhead has already been pumped with the effects of drugged-vapor filtering out through the fog machines in soft blues that wafts over the crowd before mixing with the smoke of the bonfire.

The closer we get, the harder my heart pulses.

By the time I’m stopped at the edge of the crowd, my mouth has gone dry, but I’ve steeled my spine. My heart has synced with the music blasting over the invisible speakers and the thrumming vibrations in the ground.

Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump.

Pack Rockhead’s Alpha Rourn must be the dickhead sitting front and center of the stage like a trailer park king. Instead of the raised bleachers that everyone else sits on, his ass is propped up on a cushioned recliner, with two females draped over him. What a douche.

I have six Rockhead shifters now surrounding my back while Holder still keeps hold of

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