The Night Movers - Episode 20 (Patreon)

ETA: It's all fixed. The missing 3 chapters are now there.

Chapter 20 didn't copy and paste correctly for some reason. I will fix it now.

This one might need another pass or so. I'm so tired. I hope I didn't make too many mistakes. Rough day. unbeta'd/unedited. “That works,” Sugar said. Ridley straightened his spine, blew out a breath and put his game face on. He could do this. He had to do this. Blood rushed in his ears, his mouth so dry his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He could do this. He could do this. He was safe. It was only when they were almost at the bottom of the long staircase that Ridley spotted them. Two figures cloaked in darkness, their clothing as inky black as the night itself. He squinted, trying to make out their faces, but it was no use. They were wearing hoods. Not hoodies, like the alphas surrounding him wore, but actual black hoods, like executioners from medieval times. They were alphas. He could smell it on them. Why could he smell it on them? No scent blockers? Most people wore scent blockers when out in public. It was only then Ridley realized he could smell the pack as well. He’d grown so used to their scent it had never occurred to him to question why it surrounded him still. But why wouldn’t they wear scent blockers? Was it a rebellion thing? An intimidation thing? Did multiple scents overwhelm their opponents? Give some kind of an advantage when fighting? Ridley had taken Diesel’s talk of street fighting in stride, but hadn’t put much thought into what that meant. To be fair, he was in the throes of his heat, but now he wished he’d asked some questions. Like, if this was street fighting…where was the street? Other than the road they’d taken to get there, Ridley could see no street. And now they were back underground. Again. In an underground city, that the rest of the world didn’t even know existed. Maybe they didn’t want to know. As a kid, he’d heard other kids tell tales about a city underground, of a criminal underworld, but it had sounded like something out of a comic book, so he’d quickly dismissed it. Yet there he was, dressed like a character out of said comic book, about to deliberately antagonize a group of murderous alphas…for the greater good. Sure. Why not? Despite the heavy black doors before them, nobody slowed as they approached, like they expected to march straight through two solid steel doors. Maybe they only looked solid. Ridley shook his head. That made no sense. But neither did Titus barking “Holland,” at the two men as he approached. Upon hearing the word, the two hooded alphas reached for the door handles, swinging them wide. As they passed through, the two alphas bowed—literally bowed—at them. An icy finger of fear slid along Ridley’s spine. He’d never seen alphas bow to other alphas before. Not without a crown and title involved. King of the Underworld.That’s what Linus had called Titus. He’d assumed it was a joke, but once inside, he realized just how wrong he’d been. He wanted to slow down, to look, to at least turn his head and scan his surroundings, but he didn’t dare. Titus had told him to keep his eyes forward. All around them, people laughed and talked, but Ridley couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t read their motives, couldn’t see the threat before it happened. It was unnerving. But not as unnerving as all that chatter dying the moment the heavy doors slammed shut behind them. Ridley could see fluorescent lights hidden behind opaque ceiling panels and cream colored walls that had probably once been white. Two doors loomed before them.  Someone had spray painted the words ‘The Arena’ onto the wall in black and red, the same red as the doors ahead. It looked very much like the artwork on Sugar’s walls. Had he painted it? Somewhere in the large space, music played, but it was muted, only some notes and words hitting Ridley’s ears, amplifying his disquiet. The need to look was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, growing and growing until it was the only thought in his head. He needed to look, to know, to see who these people were. Why were they there? Were they alphas? Omegas? If so, why wasn’t he choking on the scents? Did some people need scent blockers and not others? He bet Diesel would tell him the truth. But there was no time. The pack walked in lockstep around him, if he so much as misstepped, they’d all collide into him causing an embarrassing public scene and Ridley was the only one not wearing a mask. Before he knew it, the red doors were upon him. Why had the crowd all gone silent? What was happening? Ridley didn’t turn his head, but from the corner of his eye he saw it, saw them. His blood ran cold. Just like the alphas outside, every person in the room appeared to have their heads down. Bowing. Was it out of respect or fear? Ridley suspected the latter. Titus didn’t strike Ridley as a benevolent king. What would happen when they realized their new king had a queen? An omega queen? Would they rebel? Try to overthrow the pack? Did they already know? As they approached the doors, two girls clad in barely there dresses ran to grab the handles, swinging the doors wide just as the two alphas had. They kept their heads down but Ridley could see they were almost…giddy. Why? Because they’d opened Titus’s doors? Ridley’s mood soured as he took in each of the girls. They were pretty, he supposed, but definitely not Titus’s type. He was Titus’s type. And his mate. His only mate. As they passed, Ridley couldn’t help himself. He gave the two girl’s a dismissive look, then placed a hand on Titus’s shoulder. Both girls' eyes went wide, looking at them, then each other. Too bad, skanks. Once inside, Titus stopped abruptly, just at the edge of the entrance. Ridley almost ran straight into his back. Diesel’s arm snaked around his waist, keeping him from disaster. Ridley beamed at him. Diesel was so good to him. When it was clear Titus had no intention of moving, the pack spread out to stand side by side, looking down into the arena below. Ridley couldn’t help but do the same. The entire room was made of concrete, distorting every sound, then amplifying it. Just ahead was the first step leading down into the pit-like ring. Everything was cold, hard concrete. There were no seats, just concrete stairs that curved around the entire ring, serving as bleachers. There, at the bottom of the steep risers was a ten-foot-tall, five-sided cage, fully encased in barbed wire. If anyone was shoved against that wire, they’d be shredded. But safety clearly wasn’t their biggest concern. There was no padding on the ground, nothing to cushion a blow should one fall. Just red paint rolled over the unforgiving concrete surface. Was it to hide the blood? The room was warm, the air damp, heavy with sweat and alpha pheromones. Like the previous room, the doors slamming shut, echoing through the space, had all eyes on them. Ridley’s heart jackrabbited around his chest, crushing his lungs. Could they smell his fear? He did his best to keep his expression neutral but he had no idea what his face was actually doing. Most of the risers were empty, but for the ones closest to the cage. It seemed the small crowd had split into four factions, keeping to themselves, though now they all watched them—watched Ridley—with curiosity. Sugar pointed to a group of men on the far side of the arena. “That’s The Scavengers. They came together after their other packs booted them out for their crimes. Like most scumbags do, they found each other and formed a new pack. Most of them don’t like each other, but that hardly matters.” Ridley took in the rag-tag group of men. There was nothing at all that indicated these men were a pack, no unity at all. No sense of family. They stood together, but still alone. “What do you mean?” “Everything is safer in a pack,” Steele said. “Even committing crimes. They traffic omegas, mostly overseas.” “Overseas?” Ridley parroted.Steele sighed. “Babies. They’re runners for the breeding farms. They transport the babies to their new owners—wealthy beta couples, both foreign and domestic—most of whom are in Europe and Asia.” “Jesus,” Ridley muttered, disgusted, his eyes landing on another group. “And them?” A large group of black men lounged around on the first four risers, some sat, some lay on their backs staring up at Ridley. While the other packs looked at Ridley with a palpable hostility, there was a quiet menace to this bunch. Maybe it was the laziness of their gazes, the way they roamed Ridley at their leisure, like panthers who’d already gorged themselves and were too tired for dessert. “The Last Sons,” Sugar said. Ridley shivered. He knew of them. They were famous. Their pack spanned multiple territories, held thousands of members. Their initiation rituals had left some potential members dead. “They had their hands in everything from gun running to designer drugs, with a little pimping on the side,” Steele said. “Real go-getters.” Before Ridley could ask, Ryker pointed to a group of men who sat to the right of The Last Sons, but far enough away that nobody would mistake them as friends. “Those are the Kage ōkami. Third generation Yakuza. Mostly arms dealers, but they dabble in other things like porn and collecting money from unwilling debtors. All you need to know about them is that they’re violent, mouthy and smart.” Ryker stared at someone in the group, giving them a disgusted look. “Well, most of them are smart.” Ridley still listened, but the man looking up at them pulled his focus. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, with a face that was  all sharp angles. He wore billowy black pants and a sleeveless black tunic with a tall collar that came up almost to his chin. His inky black hair was pulled into a bun on top of his head, revealing his undercut on both sides. He had thick brows, fox-like eyes and a generous mouth that pulled into a smirk as he realized Ridley studied. He crossed his fully-inked, well-muscled arms over his chest. “You’re drooling,” Diesel teased. “Am not,” Ridley managed. “Hot or not, he’s still a piece of shit.” “Sup, cuz,” the man called like he heard Ridley’s comment. Ryker gave the man in question a wan smile before pulling his hand from his pocket and offering his middle finger. The man chuckled, revealing snowy white teeth. “Cuz?” Ridley asked. “He’s not really your cousin, right?” “Why? You want him to set you up?” Titus asked, slipping his mask off, his expression somewhere between mutinous and sulky. Ridley rolled his eyes. Ryker continued to stare at the man. “My Aunt Yumi’s kid. Kenzo. He’s their leader.” “Our little omega goes right for the top dog every time,” Jensen teased. The rest of them removed their masks as well. Ridley still didn’t understand the signicance of them. Everyone in the room knew everyone else. Maybe it was just an intimidation thing, like pro-wrestlers used to do back in the day. Ridley bumped his shoulder into Jensen’s with a small smile. “Shut up.” A loud, obnoxious laugh echoed through the space making Ridley flinch, drawing his eyes to the final group. His lip curled in disgust. “Who are they?” Ridley asked. “Bratva,” Steele said. “They call their pack the Mordovian Maulers.”“Bratva?” Ridley asked. “Russian mafia?” Steele nodded. “The bald guy is Yuri. He’s their leader. He’s a sick fuck. Used to be an enforcer and assassin. He revels in torture. Has committed some of the sickest retaliatory acts I’ve ever seen. He loves to hurt people. He’s a suck fuck and he rarely loses in the cage. They all thrive on violence.” “I’ve beaten him,” Titus said, tone growing smug. Ridley tugged his gaze away from the men to look at Titus, his heart skipping when he found him already watching him. Ridley didn’t look away. Neither did Titus. They just continued to stare at each other until Diesel’s voice broke Titus’s hold. “Yeah, once,” the alpha said. “Then five of our omegas went missing.” Ridley’s stomach heaved. “Five? He killed five omegas over a fight?” Diesel looked grim. “He hijacked one of our trucks before a rendezvous point. We only found one of them. What was left of them. He’d left her as a warning. We’re not sure what happened to the others.” “And we can’t prove it, of course,” Sugar said. Ridley stared down at the tall broad man with his gleaming scalp and deeply lined face. He didn’t necessarily look old—maybe in his late forties—but he looked…hard. Soulless, like the evil in him shone through. Ridley studied the man until a movement beside him caught his attention. A boy. He was small, a fact compounded by the way he was squating on the floor, balanced on his heels, his knees tucked under his chin. Ridley could only see his profile, but he had soft cheeks and deep brown hair that fell over his eyes. And a leash. He had on a fucking leash. A choke chain. One far too large for the boy’s scrawny neck. The metal gleamed in the dim light. Each time the leash tugged, the boy winced. Ridley thought it was the lack of air, but then he noticed the blood droplets on his snowy white shirt. An omega, obviously. All omegas wore white. Pain seized him, like a knife slipping between his ribs and piercing his lungs. He was…totally powerless to help him. His hand went to his necklace, playing with the pearl there. His gaze followed the links of the chain from the boy to the man holding the other end. He stood beside Yuri, deep in conversation, seemingly talking about someone from the ōkami, staring them down like he wanted their attention. He was much younger than the leader, maybe thirty. He had icy blonde hair and a tattoo on his face that was too far away to look like anything but an amorphous blob. He wore gray cargo pants, a black t-shirt that was two sizes too small and boots as thick and lethal looking as the ones half his pack wore, including himself. He looked like one of those militant fundamentalists that passed out flyers and talked about the importance of gender traditions. Ridley dropped his gaze to the boy, realizing he’d also angled his body towards the Okami. One of the Okami stared back. The hairs on the back of Ridley’s neck rose as the man beside Yuri, followed the boys gaze to the other side of the room. The nasty sneer that spread across his face made Ridley’s breath come faster. As he watched, the man yanked the boy to his feet hard, using only his leash. He gripped his face in his large hand, squeezing the hinge of his jaw until he opened for him. He caught the other man’s eye—the one beside Kenzo—then spit directly into the boy’s mouth before shoving him back to his knees. Ridley’s nostrils flared, a low growl sneaking past his lips. A glimpse at the man beside Kenzo told Ridley he felt the same. A tattered black shirt and smooth brown skin appeared before him. Ridley’s gaze slowly climbed to meet Sugar’s, the alpha’s agitation obvious. “Easy,” he soothed.“He’s just a little boy,” Ridley seethed. Ryker was still watching the scene unfold beside them. “He’s nineteen,” he said. “The same age as you.” Ridley turned the full force of his outrage onto him. “Does that make it better?” Ryker sighed. “Of course, not. I’m simply saying he’s not a child. And he’s only been with Rurik for a week or two. Before that he belonged to Hideo.”“What do you mean?” Ridley asked, stomach sinking. It was Jensen who spoke up. “Hideo put Rain up as the prize in a fight around ten days ago. Hideo lost. Rain went to Rurik.” Ridley was going to throw up for real. He needed to find Rin. He had to. But how was he supposed to sit there and watch omegas get bought, sold and traded like chattel? That was a person down there. A human being with thoughts and feelings. Ridley looked down to the angry man beside Kenzo. He was pointing in the boy’s direction. “Is that Hideo?” The man was roughly the same height as Kenzo, with broader shoulders and a thicker build. His deep brown hair was close-cropped on the side but long enough to fall over his eyes on top. “No, that’s Orochi, his brother,” Titus said. “Why is Orochi pissed about Rurik taking an omega who belonged to his brother?” Ridley asked, struggling to follow. “Was he their pack omega or something?” Ryker shook his head. “Not that I know of.” Ridley shook his head. “I thought you said trading omegas is common. Why’s he so mad? ” he asked, trying and failing to keep the disgust from his voice. “Because he was supposed to ‘inherit’ the boy upon his brother’s death,” Jensen said.“Inherit? Wait, his brother’s dead?” Ridley asked, trying to keep up. “It was a death match,” Sugar said, as if that made perfect sense. “A death match?” Ridley hissed. “Do those happen a lot?” “When someone feels slighted enough, yeah,” Titus said. “Only a few times a month,” Diesel added, like watching people get beaten to death was no big deal. Though Ridley supposed it wasn’t. Not to them. Before he could ask another question, Titus broke in, gently pushing Ridley to get him moving. “Let’s go to our seats.” Ridley followed Titus down the concrete stairs to the cage below, the others right behind him. As they passed the boy, Ridley couldn’t help but stare. They’d called him Rain. He looked miserable. He was squatting, chin on his knees, staring at Orochi with a look that made Ridley feel like he was interfering. Ridley gasped softly as she realized what caused the boy's throat to bleed. There were spikes on the inside of his metal collar. “You are not going to introduce us to your new friend,” Yuri sneered, his accent so thick Ridley had to concentrate to understand him. He didn’t need to speak Russian to understand the way Yuri looked him up and down like he was his next meal. “What have we here?” He ran a finger along Ridley’s jaw. He wrenched away. “Ridley,” Titus warned. Yuri reached out and pinched Ridley’s jaw with his hand, fingers digging painfully int his jaw, clearly wanting some kind of reaction from him. Ridley jerked free of his hold a second time, glaring at him. “This one still need training,” Yuri said, biting his lower lip suggestively. “You give me good price, I’ll return him so well behaved. Or maybe you would be willng to sell?” “He’s not for sale,” Sugar said, quiet but firm. Yuri scoffed. “Every omega is for sale. Name your price.” Jensen gently placed his hand where Yuri’s had been, turning Ridley’s chin, allowing them to see the bites on his neck. “Not this one.” Yuri began to laugh like a maniac, the sound echoing around the concrete walls, drawing the attention of others once again. “Which one did it?” he asked Titus. “Which one of your boys lost his mind over this strawberry cunt? My guess is on that one.” He pointed at Diesel, who scoffed but remained silent. Titus went very still, the menace in his voice turning Ridley on more than he would ever admit. “He’s mine. My mate. Our pack’s chosen omega. I would be very careful about what you say next.” “You? It was you? Our King?” he cried, giving another sharp laugh that hit Ridley’s ear drums like broken glass. “This is wonderful news. Congrats on your union.” Ridley was two seconds away from rolling his eyes and getting them all in trouble. Was every night at the arena an alpha dick measuring contest? He glanced down at the small boy, then dropped into a squat directly in front of him. “Hi, I’m Ridley. What’s your name?” The boy didn’t say anything, just stared through Ridley like he was a pane of glass. That’s when Ridley saw how severe his injuries were. He had a black eye, an abrasion on his jaw, and both his bottom lip and nose looked swollen. But the worst was his neck, there were hundreds of cuts, some bleeding, some scabbed over, a few that even looked infected. He reached out to touch without thought. Pain ripped through him like a grenade and Ridley’s world tilted on his axis, grunting as he landed hard on his ass on the concrete, the fall reverberating through his spine. His nose throbbed and snot poured down his face. No, that was blood. He was bleeding. He had a nose bleed. Ridley could only stare in awe as the puddle of blood formed on the white floor between his spread legs. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his double vision. Had he fallen? Had something hit him? “Control your guard dog,” Titus growled. “Control your bitch,” someone else snapped. Arms gripped him tight, pulling him to his feet, a cloth shoved beneath his nose. Ridley tried not to wince at the sharp stab when Ryker pushed on his nose too hard. After a moment, the sharp pain became a dull throb. When Ridley’s vision finally cleared enough for him to see Yuri and Titus were inches apart. Yuri had his finger in Titus’s face. All eyes were on them. Titus moved so quickly, Ridley almost missed it. He grabbed Yuri’s finger tightly and torqued his hand. There was a sharp snap and a pained snarl. Ridley’s stomach lurched as he realized the man’s finger now pointed in another direction. “You ever put your finger in my face again and I’ll cut off every one of your fucking fingers then feed them to you, one knuckle at a time,” Titus said, voice eerily calm. “As for you,” he said, pointing to Rurik, who still held Rain’s leash. “You’re going in the cage tonight.” “It’s your funeral,” Rurik said. “Oh, that’s right. The King never fights. Only sends his dogs like a coward.” Titus didn’t take the bait. “I don’t fight for your safety, not mine. I would have an unfair advantage. But for you, I’ll make an exception.” Rurik’s face twisted into a snarl. “I never lose.” Titus shrugged. “You better hope you’re right, cuz if you lose, you die.” Ryker checked Ridley’s nose. It seemed to have stopped bleeding. Ridley took the rag just in case. Yuri shook his head, grabbing his own broken finger and snapping it back into place with another disgusting sound. “Never thought I’d see the butcher get so hysterical over a lowly omega,” he grunted. “Pathetic.” Ridley’s fist flew without thought, connecting with Yuri’s face with a sickening wet splat. Ridley winced as the pain shocked up his arm then through his whole body. He’d never hit someone before. It reverberated painfully through his whole body. Yuri howled in fury. Ridley yanked his throbbing hand back, blinking down at the silver now covered in blood and tiny bits of skin. Ridley jerked his gaze to Yuri’s face, eyes widening as he saw the puncture wounds dotting along the right side of his face. The rings. Ridley’s stomach twisted. Had he ruined them? Could they be cleaned? He looked for Sugar, relieved when he saw him holding back a laugh. Yuri lunged for him but Ridley stayed put, frozen in place. Two of his men grabbed him from behind just as Titus stepped between them. Yuri’s face was a startling shade of purple as he screamed, “You filthy fucking cunt. I will skin you and turn you into a rug. You dare to touch me?” To Titus, he said, “I demand you give him to me. Now. That is all I will take for this disrespect.” This time it was Ridley lunging forward. When hands gripped him tight, he flailed his legs out, trying to kick the man. “Fuck you. I was just trying to say hello.” “Omegas aren’t to speak to other omegas without permission,” Rurik spat. “I was within my rights to discipline him.” “You think a boot to the face is discipline?” Steele snapped. Was that what had happened? He’d kicked him in the face? What a fucking piece of shit. “You know you have no right to discipline or injure someone else’s omega,” Jensen said. “Besides, the rule is: omegas aren’t permitted to speak to other omegas alone without the presence of their alpha, not that they can’t talk to them without permission, asshole. We were all right here.” Rurik gave Titus another sneer. “I’m going to end you.” “Yeah, yeah,” Titus said dismissively. “But you might want to get your affairs in order before the bell goes off.” Rurik looked at Ridley then smiled, revealing gold plated teeth with sharpened canines. “When I win, I’m taking him.” Before Titus could answer, Ridley gave him a simpering look over his alpha’s shoulder. “The only prize on the table is your life, which you’re going to lose. Then I’m going to have my alpha take that chain from around his neck, put it around yours and drag your dead fucking body around the ring so everyone will know who the real bitch is–Oh, sorry. Was.” There was a gasp of shock from somewhere, but Ridley refused to be the first one to break eye contact. Rurik made a show of twisting the leash around his hand until Rain began to gasp for air, blood droplets running down his skin and blossoming through the fabric. Ridley gave him a disgusted look. “Oh, wow. It takes a really big man to torture a helpless boy completely at his mercy. What’s wrong?” he asked. “Can’t get it up or something?” Ridley heard Titus mutter, “Christ, strawberry.” “I’m gonna kill that bitch,” Rurik shouted. “You hear me?” Ridley still had his own blood caked on his face and the taste of iron on his lips. But that didn’t stop him from stepping forward, closing the gap between his front and Titus’s back. He ran his hands up Titus’s chest and hooked his chin over his shoulder. “Alpha?” “Yeah, strawberry.” Ridley nipped his earlobe with his teeth, making a show of running his tongue along the shell of his ear. “Can I pick your prize?” “Sure,” he murmured, still staring down Rurik. “What would you like?” Ridley slipped around him, then dropped down once more, his ass dragging across Titus’s zipper suggestively. Rain still crouched there, staring hard at Orochi. Ridley tickled the boy softly under his chin. “Him, alpha.”