Kings of Anarchy (Brutal Boys of Everlake Prep #3) - Caroline Peckham Page 0,33

they knew or accept that they might not and know that that was up to them anyway.

"It's a place where people are put up for sale to the worst kinds of buyers. Sex trafficking, death matches, even just psychopaths looking for fresh victims can go there and place a price on human flesh."

She remained silent and I was glad because if I heard so much as an ounce of pity in her voice, I was pretty sure I'd rip this entire building apart. I'd made my choice. So I would own it. Even if I knew that doing so had carved a piece of my soul off which I'd never get back.

"Rich, twisted motherfuckers use the club as a place to do business. They watch the fights or fuck the girls or they just go there to drink and arrange whatever ways they want to carve up the country and use it for their own gain."

"So, it's kinda like a secret society?" Tatum asked, her voice sounding like it was coming from the bed, but I wasn't going to turn and look at her to confirm it.

"Yeah," I scoffed. "They could kill me just for telling you about it, but I don't give a shit about my own sorry ass. The only people allowed there are invited to initiate. Most of the rich bastards who participate buy a proxy to take part in the initiation - some poor kid who will jump at the chance to earn a couple of grand and take part on their behalf. All you have to do to gain entry is win or have a proxy win in your place. And if your proxy dies then you can just buy another and another and another until you back one that wins."

"Wins what?" she asked.

I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat and shook my head. "It's a...game I guess. We were put in this cage with weapons and tunnels and shit and told we had to be the last one standing if we wanted to leave with our lives. Once you're in there is no way out apart from winning. If you refuse to fight, they hang you from the post in the centre of the arena and gut you, leaving you to bleed out as a warning to everyone else."

"So, you had to kill people to win?" she asked softly.

"Yeah...but they weren't men like the ones we killed outside that cabin. They were just street kids who had been tricked into taking part for a chance at a better life. They weren't bad people. They didn't even want to fight. I resisted hurting the ones who begged for their lives and got through the first few hours by killing a couple of the more aggressive contenders. But it was so fucked up, Tate..."

I heard her moving off of the bed behind me, but I didn't want her trying to comfort me. I deserved to feel this rage and hatred towards myself and I wasn't looking for someone to try and tell me I wasn't the monster I'd discovered myself to be in that fucking place.

"You just did what it took to survive," she said firmly, and I was glad to find that there wasn't any pity in her tone. Just that fucking strength and bite that I loved so fucking much in her.

"There were people there in cages, being auctioned off for fuck knows what," I said as I turned to look at her. “Girls and guys who were whoring willingly to these fucked up old men because they were always promised this distant chance of more, a better life, an elevation to a higher tier where they'd be given more than they could ever dream of, but which didn't even exist from what I saw. Not to mention the unwilling ones. And you know what the worst thing about all of it is? When I gained my membership and they let me out of the fucking arena, covered in the blood of innocent fuckers who never should have been forced to die like that, I just left. I didn't try to help any of them, didn't try to go back and tear the place to the ground. I just thanked my lucky stars that I'd made it out of that fucking hell alive and went right back to my old life, trying to pretend that none of it had ever happened."

The silence that followed my words was so long that I