 by Ruby Vincent.jpg)
Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Over a hundred years later, nothing has changed.
A shadow clings to our lives. Stalking, watching, waiting, taunting, and killing. And when it struck, I wasn’t ready.
I have to play their game now. Catch them, kill them, before Ruckus Royale or they’ll claim another sacrifice.
The trouble is a new band of outlaws are in charge, and Arsenio, Cairo, Jacques, Legend, and Roan don’t take well to people ruining their fun.
On the one night a year where anything goes, mayhem will sweep through the streets and the Kings of Ruckus will rule.
I have my orders. A life to save and a life to take.
And when my punishment comes for framing the Bedlam Boys, I’ll welcome it. I’ll let them bind me, chain me, and strip me of the sweet, innocent girl I never got to be.
Under their twisted, scorching love I will atone for the crimes paid and the ones still to come.
In the end, Bedlam will be brought to its knees to bow before its first queen.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
“Wake up. Hellloooo.”
Pain lit my cheek.
“I said, get up.”
I slowly came to, descending into agony.
My head ached. Temples throbbed. Cheek stung. Wrists burned.
The final realization pushed back on the grogginess. Why did my wrists burn?
Blinking, my vision blurred on a face.
“Finally,” a voice said. “I was a minute away from starting the party without you.”
Blonde hair came into focus, and little by little, the brown eyes became clear. A round nose. Thin lips.
And a name.
“Zoey?”
My former orientation tour guide beamed. “Look at that. There is intelligent life on this planet. I was worried those knocks to the head rang your bell for the final time, you crazy bitch.”
I bristled. Why the hell was this woman talking to me like that? And where was I?
Drifting up, I peered through crisscrossing metal to the clear night sky.
We were outside and on Chaney Bridge by the looks of it.
“Hmm.”
What am I doing here? What was I doing before?
“Hmm! Hmm!”
What’s that—?
Zoey stepped out of the way, and I fell on Arsenio, Cairo, Jacques, and Legend—wrists bound and suspended from ropes tied overhead. They balanced on a ledge on the balls of their feet. Gags stretched their mouths open.
“Guys!” I raced to them and made it three steps.
My bound hands yanked me off my feet and smashed me against the rail.
Zoey laughed herself sick.
She was dressed in a bright yellow sundress with a matching bow keeping her bangs out of her face. You’d have thought she was going out to a picnic, if not for the crossbow held in her gloved hands.
I squinted. My crossbow.
“Where are you running off to? The fun just started.”
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I screamed. “Let us go.”
“Now why would I do that... Angel?”
Cold dread climbed my spine. “What did you say?”
“Need me to spell it out,” she sang. “I promised I was arranging a meeting for us and here we are. I’d have thought you’d be happy, seeing as you put so much effort into finding me.”
“You?” I scurried back as she closed the distance. “But— But how? Why?”
“How and why you already know. But you forgot.” Zoey rolled her eyes. “How convenient.”
“You’re the Letter Man,” I sliced in.
“Woman. Thank you very much.”
“But you... Blake Jensen...”
My conversation with Craig came roaring back.
“Blake. Is he in this photo? Point him out.”
“Blake’s not—”
“A guy,” I whispered. “He was going to say that Blake isn’t a guy. The face he pointed out!”
I snapped up to her. In my mind, I moved past the person I thought Craig pointed at, to the girl I dismissed outright.
Her hair was brunette. The round nose was pointed, but the resemblance couldn’t be denied.
“You’re Blake Jensen.”
“Correction: I was Blake Jensen.”
“And Dante? How did you...?” I trailed off, my mind struggling under the new information.
“Oh, I’m not Dante. But the new guy is a friend,” she said. “He kindly made a few changes to the show, and added lines to his script when I asked. I have friends, Angel. Everywhere.”
“You’re not Dante, but you are Blake.”
She gestured with my crossbow. “I changed my name to Zoey Mariner the second I hit eighteen. Ugh. You don’t know the hell I went through. My parents thought it’d be cool and revolutionary to give me a guy’s name. Instead, I was bullied relentlessly. They called me a man. Stole my tampons, saying that guys didn’t need them. It was awful.”
“Boo-hoo. I don’t give a fuck about your sob story.” I strained in my binds. “You shot Colton. You killed Bella! And the guys. Get them down from there right now.”
Zoey aimed the bow at Legend and fired.
“No!”
He jerked out of the way and the arrow sailed past, missing him so narrowly I heard his jacket tear.
“You’re not in a position to make demands, so don’t do it again. You are, however, lucky that I’m in a sharing mood. Go on,” she sang. “Ask me all about my dastardly plan. Why did you do it? How did you get away with it? I love this part.”
I spat at her feet.
She heaved a sigh. “You always were stubborn.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Au contraire. If you want to get technical, I’d say I’m the only one who knows the real you. Come on. Haven’t you put it together yet?”
“We met during that blurred-out year of my life while I was on the meds. I get it,” I mocked. “But if you think that drugged-up robot is the real me, you don’t understand how blackouts work. Anything I did”—I thought of the body at Black Widow Hill—“or didn’t do. It wasn’t a choice.”
Giving me her back, Zoey shot at the ropes keeping Arsenio out of the water below.
“Hmm!”
“Stop!”
“Here’s how this goes,” she said. “I couldn’t have you driving the Crows out of town too early, because they hadn’t accepted my price yet. You see, you’re not the only one I’ve sent letters to. But I bet you thought you were special. Aww.”