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Eli, he knew his wife would give him hell.

 
     
    Chapter Five
     
    Eli’s pace matched his anger. With each thought and frustration, his feet would hit the ground harder as his stride lengthened. As he mounted the small hill to descend to the ocean, a woman blocked his bath.
    “What do you want, Natasha?”
    The old black woman titled her head to the right as she looked at her master. She slowly shook her head. Eli St. John was far from her master. She was outspoken and overbearing. She had overstepped her bounds too many times lecturing him about his actions and activities. She was more of a grandmotherly figure to him. He would seek her out for advice when his parents’ logic did not suit him. She had a feeling that this time would be no different. However, this time he was not heading in the direction of her quarters but to the beach. The sound of the angry crashing waves on the sands matched his disposition. Whatever had transpired in the house this evening was vexing Eli tremendously.
    “Why are yuh troubled?”
    “Were you eavesdropping?”
    Natasha shook her head. “Nah dis time. Now wat ‘as transpired?”
    “Use your voodoo powers and figure it out for yourself,” Eli snapped as he gently pushed her out of his way.
    She began mumbling under her breath.
    “Do not be cursing me, Natasha.”
    Natasha turned just in time to see the tall menacing man emerge from the house. “I don’t need ta curse yuh. De devil ah comin’ afta yuh as wi speak.”
    Eli closed his eyes and groaned. He turned around and spotted Max heading his direction. He did not need his new older brother’s presence right now. Eli turned and headed down the path to the beach. When he reached the sandy shore, he stopped and waited for Max to catch up to him.
    Max quickly reached Eli. Neither man spoke a word as they stared at the crashing waves. The violence of the waves matched each man’s emotions.
    “I’m not interested in that bloody title,” Max finally spoke.
    “Neither am I,” Eli responded.
    “I didn’t ask for this.”
    Eli turned to face Max. Eli was not the tallest of the St. John brothers. He was used to looking upwards to do his battles, except against Michael who was the smallest of the crew—hence giving him the nickname of Runt. He was not surprised to find that Max was just as tall as his other brothers. He tilted his head and looked directly into Max’s eyes. The blackness of Max’s eyes matched his own.
    “What do you ask for then?” Eli growled.
    The corner of Max’s mouth lifted up in a sneer. “You wanting to fight me?”
    Max’s answer was Eli’s fist hitting him across the jaw. Max’s head was tossed back by the blow. When he lowered his head, an evil sneer had crossed his face.
    “Good,” Max said as his fist connected with Eli’s mouth.
    Eli was knocked backwards several feet by the force of Max’s blow. Eli was no stranger to fights. Having seven brothers assured that there was a fight at least daily. Whenever Eli traveled to England, he would join Matthew in the ring for several rounds. Which was a punishment in itself because not only was Matthew the broadest of the St. John brothers, but a skilled pugilist as well. Eli spat the blood out of his mouth.
    He advanced on Max. As he approached, he noticed Max did not take a shielding stance. When he swung at Max’s jaw a second time, Max leaned back and landed a punch to Eli’s midsection. Eli doubled over and was knocked on his backside by Max’s uppercut.
    Eli slowly stood and shook the stars from his vision. He was not thrilled to see that Max would be a better opponent than Matthew. Hell, maybe once they finished, he’d have those two fight. He had always wanted to see Matthew have his pride handed back to him.
    Max took another swing at Eli. Eli stepped back. Max took another swing. Eli stepped back again, dodged to the left and connected a punch to Max’s rib cage. Eli struck with such force that the contact sounded like a dropped