CHAPTER FOURTEEN
PARRISH “NEWDY” TOUSSAINT
Parrish knew from the moment he laid eyes on her she was going to be a fucking problem.
Looking at her now, he couldn’t front. Her little ass could fight.
Usually, the messy chicks couldn’t throw hands to save their lives. But Kormia?
She was different. Medina had height, weight, and reach on her.
But none of it mattered once they got in that field.
Kormia still put belt to ass. Newdy didn’t see the whole fight.
But what he saw was brutal. By the time Medina got up, she looked like she’d gone ten rounds with Gervonta Davis.
Meanwhile, aside from her hair being all over her head and a few nasty scratches, Kormia didn’t even look like she’d been fighting.
She still had that same spark in her eyes and fire in chest. Kormia carried an aura.
It was bright and impossible to ignore. And that was exactly why he needed to.
She reminded him too much of his twin brother.
Reckless, impulsive, and always moving off emotion.
Paris lived like the rules didn’t apply.
And it got him killed. Newdy prided himself on discipline.
It was the way he governed his life. In his line of work, being sloppy wasn’t just unacceptable—it was dangerous.
He couldn’t avoid it when Paris was alive.
His brother was chaos in human form, and Newdy stood ten toes down behind him, right, wrong, or indifferent.
But now? Now his brother was gone. And Newdy vowed to never let chaos feel like home again But looking at Kormia now, breathing hard, lip trembling, hands still shaking—he felt that familiar pull creeping back in. The kind that never led nowhere good.