by E. M. Moore
Oscar gives us a mock salute and then walks toward the boys’ locker rooms. Brawler and I take off in the opposite direction, exiting out the main doors of the school. I should’ve known a sleek black car would already be out there waiting for us. Brawler opens the rear door, and I slide in. I look up just long enough to see Magnum sitting behind the wheel and then look away. When Brawler gets in, Magnum turns. He and Brawler shake hands through the divider before Magnum moves his gaze to me. “I told you he’d be okay.”
I don’t look at him for very long. I don’t even acknowledge he’s said anything because what does he want me to say? He scolded me earlier like a child and now he wants to make nice? I shake my head. I just can’t deal with that right now.
“Where are we headed?” Magnum asks.
“There’s a gym on the edge of town.” I look to Brawler who leans forward, telling Magnum where to go.
As soon as he does, Magnum hits the button to raise the divider. Soon, Brawler and I are in the back of the car…alone. For the first time in too long. We turn toward one another. I reach out, feathering my fingers over his skin. I trace the angel wings on his neck like I’m touching the most sacred parts of him. “I bet these angels kept you safe.”
He cups my face. “I don’t know how anyone got out of there.”
“Magnum dragged me out,” I tell him. “Literally.”
He swallows when I reach for him, my thumb skimming over his pulse point before moving around his neck. His pulse thunders a mile a minute, and his expression darkens. “We’ve got to get out of here, Kyla.” True emotion coats his words. “If we stay, we’re going to end up dead. You’re going to end up dead.”
His stare is so forceful, it makes me gasp for breath. I hate hurting him, but I can’t do what he’s asking. Not now. “I can’t leave.”
“We need to try.” He grabs my hands in his. “We could do it. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
“I can’t leave yet,” I clarify. I’m all in with Brawler. I have been. If trusting him is the wrong move, then I’ll die by that sword.
“Does it have something to do with this?” He pulls out a small cell phone from his pocket.
I cover it like I don’t want to see the sight of it. “Where’d you get that?”
“You know where I got it,” he says. “I didn’t look through your stuff. Your place was trashed. I went in to salvage what I could and found this. Whoever trashed it must have missed it.”
“Was there a—?”
“A picture?” He opens the small front pocket of his book bag, allowing me to peek inside. I cover my mouth, trying to hold everything inside. “I thought maybe it was important to you.”
“Those are my parents.”
I press down on his book bag, enclosing the picture once again in the zippered pocket. I can’t bear to see their faces right now. The two most important things I own, and Brawler has them. I push the bag back over to him along with the phone. I can’t think of a better person to keep these things safe.
I sit back in the seat and take a deep breath. Turning my head to the side, I eye an unsure Brawler. He’s put his book bag down on the floor and is fully facing me now. “I can’t tell you why,” I start. “But can you keep those two things with you? I can’t take them back to Johnny’s apartment. He can’t know about them.”
“Of course, but whoever’s contact you have in that phone, I’d call them if I were you. They’ve called and texted a bunch.”
My pulse ratchets up. “You read them?”
He shakes his head. “I turned it on to see if it belonged to the person who ransacked your place. That’s all.”
Relief floods me when Brawler doesn’t ask any more questions. “I’ll call them at the gym. If you’ll cover for me.”
He nods, then reaches over to place his hand on my shoulder, squeezing me gently. Despite what his tattoos and badass muscles portray to the world, he’s got such a good heart. Naturally. I’ve been surrounded by all walks of life, and I just might have found the person with the biggest heart in the slums of Rawley Heights.
When the car pulls to a stop, Brawler and I get out. He slips my small cell into his pocket. Instead of waiting in the car, Magnum follows us. My heart rate picks up. Having Magnum join us just means more eyes. I only hope I can get a moment to myself to call my aunt and check in with her. Then, I can give the phone back to Brawler where he can keep it safe for me.
We stride in. One of the trainers we had before straightens. He’d been giving instructions to a lightning quick teenager jabbing the air in front of him, but now he’s focused on us. He hits the other trainer in the chest a couple of times to draw his attention. “No shit,” the guy says, all smiles.
“Don’t tell me Uppercut Princess wants to train in our gym.”
I roll my eyes into the back of my head. “I will if everyone stops using that name.”
“I like it,” Mag says, shrugging.
I glare at the back of his copper head. The trainers shake hands with Magnum, Brawler, and I. “Jax,” by the way, the first trainer says. He’s the more serious one. Cropped, jet black hair glistens with sweat. He’s a few inches shorter than the other trainer, but no less fierce. Tattoos adorn each knuckle.
“Kyla,” I tell him.
He nods, and it’s possible I actually have a shot of him calling me Kyla instead of Princess. Like a mutual respect kind of thing. I like him instantly.
The other trainer, Finn, I’m not so sure I have a shot. He’s more playful, and even though they’re brothers, the two trainers couldn’t be more opposite. Finn has lighter hair, pulled back into a short ponytail. He has some height on his brother, and a bit more weight to him too. They’re both good looking. Obviously. I mean, I don’t need to explain how hot I think fighters are anymore, do I? I have a type. Maybe Oscar, the star quarterback, or Johnny, the gang leader’s son, don’t play into that type, but that’s okay. I’m an equal opportunity hottie lover.
Magnum takes over. I just stare while he explains to Finn and Jax that I’ll be fighting in the underground fights and that I need a place to train.
“Well, officially,” Finn says. “We don’t condone underground fighting.” A giant grin splits his face. “But unofficially, we’re all for it.”
Jax gives him a look. Yep, he’s definitely the more serious brother. He doesn’t look like he’s quite so sure about this. He opens his mouth, and I’m almost positive he’s about to tell me to get lost when he says, “Tell me you have something more appropriate to train in.”
He stares me up and down, looking at my clothes with distaste, and I grin. “Trust me, I wouldn’t wear these clothes if I didn’t have to.” He gives me a strange look, but I don’t bother explaining. The story is just way too involved. “You got a shop in here?”
A smile swallows Finn’s face. “Did someone just ask about our shop?” He raises his eyebrows at his brother in quick succession. “Someone’s going to eat those words about selling attire being a gigantic waste of money.”
Jax blows out a breath, and I try to contain a smile. Brothers are fun.
“Right this way,” Finn says, hiking his thumb over his shoulder. He brings us to the corner of the gym. There’s mostly guys’ stuff, but there are a few sports bras, and I honestly couldn’t care less if I wear guy’s sweats or women’s. I’ll just have to get a smaller size in the men’s cut.
Magnum reaches into his back pocket and takes out a black wallet. Of course. The color is unsurprising. He opens it and extracts a credit card. “You’re not paying for it,” I say, placing my hand over his to stop him.
Magnum turns to look at me and then points to the name on the card. Rocket Enterprises. Ah, well, okay. I guess that’s acceptable. “I’ve been instructed to make sure you have everything you want.” He hands the card over to Finn. “Put the training fees on there as well.”
Finn looks positively giddy as I grab clothes from the racks. “I’ll try these on.”
“Whatever you wa
nt, Princess.”
I scowl at him, which only makes him more light-hearted. What is with guys loving to piss girls off? It makes me want to punch something.
I walk by Brawler, and underneath all the clothes I’ve just piled on, he slips the small, nondescript phone into my palm before I head to the changing rooms. Before I even start to change, I quickly scroll through the texts on my phone. As usual, they start out casual and then turn more frantic when I don’t answer. I don’t even bother checking any of the voicemails she’s left other than the last one. “I need you to call me. Okay. Bye.”
She’s pissed. Rightfully so. It’s been too long since I’ve checked in.
I dial her number, counting the rings and hoping she’ll pick up instead of leaving a voicemail. If I have to leave a voicemail, I’ll just have to call her again tomorrow, so she can grill me about what I’m doing and why I can’t return her calls right away. “Hello?” she says, breathless.
“Hey,” I say, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.
The phone crackles for a moment because of the heavy sigh she releases right into the speaker. “You’re okay.”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I’m okay.”
“Do you remember when I told you I was okay with you going to high school somewhere else that I also said one of the stipulations was that you checked in with us regularly? That hasn’t changed.” She groans. “I knew I shouldn’t have let you do this.”
“I’m okay,” I say. “Really. I just got caught up doing things, and the phone was…not working, so I couldn’t call you back on it.” Well, that sounded lame as fuck.
“I’m worried about you,” she says, her voice breaking. “I think you should come back.”
“I—I can’t,” I say. “Everything’s fine here, really. You know I can take care of myself.”
“I just…” She breathes out. “I think Anna would’ve hated that I let you do this. I—”
“It’s one year,” I tell her. It’s the same exact reasoning I used on her to get her to agree to this in the first place. “I’ll be off to college next year anyway, so it’s fine.”
“But I don’t know anything that’s going on. How are your grades? Are you safe? Are you eating? Are you dating? These are things I need to know because I worry.”
“My grades are fine,” I tell her. She has no reason to think otherwise because I was always good at school. Even at the private prep school with all the bitches and jerkoffs. “I’m eating. I’ll send pictures to prove it to you. I’ve found some friends. That’s why I haven’t called you back as much. I’ve been…hanging out with them.” I’ve just redefined ‘hanging out’, but she doesn’t need to know my version of hanging out means almost getting shot.
“Friends?” She perks up at that. My aunt and uncle always tried to get me to be friends with their country club friends’ kids, and I rebelled. They just weren’t my people.
“Yep,” I say, happy to be on a different topic. “Honest to goodness friends.”
She doesn’t say anything for several long moments, but she finally breaks the silence. “I just worry, you know.”
“I know,” I tell her. Not for the first time, I think about how different my aunt and mom are. I don’t know how my mom would’ve acted when I was older, of course, but she let me be my own person when I was younger. She encouraged me to try different things and spread my wings. My aunt is a little steadier. She likes her big house and huge paycheck. She enjoys the cushioned life, which is why I always felt bad for crashing it and ruining everything for her. I was never part of her plan until there wasn’t a choice. “I’m actually at the gym now. I’ll call you in a couple of days, okay?”
“Fine. But a couple,” she says, voice stern.
“Agreed,” I tell her. “Tell everyone hi.”
“Love you,” she says.
I lick my suddenly chapped lips. I’ve said ‘I love you’ to people. I know what it’s supposed to feel like, but saying I love you to someone you owe a lot to never feels good. At least not to me. “Love you, too,” I choke out.
10
Near the end of our training session, Johnny strolls in. He’s wearing a suit, much like he wore yesterday when we went to Candy’s. Because I’m distracted, Finn almost gets a punch in on me, but I parry it at the last possible moment.
It’s a good thing, too, because I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t take well to Finn hitting his girl, even though it would have been my fault entirely and not Finn’s.
“Jeez,” Finn jokes, cracking a smile that beams like the sun. “I thought I had you there for a minute.”
“Good luck,” I tease, smiling back at him with my mouthpiece in, which I know from experience looks more like baring my teeth than an actual smile. In the underground fights, we don’t wear mouthpieces, but training is a different story. There’s no sense in trying to hurt one another while we’re preparing for the actual fight.
I excuse myself from Finn and slip out of the boxing ring. I take my gloves off and remove my headgear. My sweat-dampened hair is plastered to my head. I’m sure I look like something the cat dragged in.
“Look at you.” Johnny’s ice-blue eyes glisten like diamonds as he looks me up and down. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a while.”
“What can I say? I just like to hit stuff.”
“Stuff.” Finn snorts. “Me, I’m stuff.”
Johnny eyes him, and I step in to introduce them right away, explaining that Finn and Jax own the place…where I’m training…so there’s no reason to want to kill them. I didn’t realize these two owned the gym when Brawler and I were here before, but some of the things they’ve said today, including fighting over who has to clean the toilets next, makes me think they definitely own the place. Two brothers who went into business together, and from what I can tell, have been bickering ever since.
After shaking both their hands, Johnny addresses Brawler. “Glad to see you’re good.”
My big man nods. He’s not happy with Johnny, the Crew, or Oscar for that matter. He thinks everyone should’ve been told about the possibility of things escalating after the fight. To him, it hit a little too close to home, driving the point in that the Crew doesn’t care about anyone but the Crew, innocents be damned.
For a tense-filled moment, I glance between the two, wondering if anything is going to be said that will piss the other off. Luckily, Jax continues to train with Brawler, thereby keeping him preoccupied. Maybe Jax sensed the tension and stepped in before it got worse. Jax and Finn aren’t being obvious or saying anything, but they know who Johnny is. Everyone does.
Johnny slides his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. “I missed you,” he whispers, dropping a kiss to my temple.
I peer down at my sweat-soaked training gear. “Even like this?”
He drags his gaze down me slowly, lighting up every inch of my skin. “Definitely like this.” His breath feathers over my cheek. “I came by to see if you wanted to hang out with me tonight. I’ve got some Crew business, but I thought we could make it a date night too.”
“Is it Candy’s again?” Not that I wouldn’t mind going back, but the way we left things there wasn’t exactly hunky-dory.
He laughs and shakes his head. “No, I think Dunnegan will be happy if he doesn’t see me for a long time. I had to tell him to straighten up his staff requirements after the problem you had and the other girl who was clearly inebriated. The Crew can’t look bad like that.” His gaze darkens, and I can tell he’s retreated from the conversation for the moment. I’m sure the conversation he had with his father today about the strip club didn’t go over well. The Crew is all about appearances, and sloppy employees just aren’t acceptable. Except, in their world, staff isn’t just written up for infractions. Depending on the severity, they could be fired, or much, much worse.
Brawler’s standing entirely too close to me right now to be having this conversation. Even if he was a hundred yards away, it would be too close. The hatred I know
he stokes inside him for the Crew makes guilt wrench my stomach. The tips of my ears burn as I guide Johnny farther away from him. “So, where to tonight?”
Johnny grins at me, pressing his fingers into the palm of my hand. “The track.”
After stopping briefly at Johnny’s suite so I can wash the fight training off me and dress more appropriately, Johnny and I drive to the edge of the next town where apparently there’s a race track. Fields and small houses surround the bleachered structure, and honestly, I can’t imagine why the Crew would be interested in this place. From what I’ve seen, they like to keep their businesses in the Heights.
“I see that look on your face. You’re probably wondering what our interest in this is.”
The roar of dozens of engines pierces the inside of the car. Now I understand why Johnny made sure we brought earplugs. “Yeah, a little,” I say, shouting over the screaming engines.
He grins, looking less Johnny Rocket and more like just plain Johnny. He hands me a pair of the earplugs. “We thought since the fight business has been lucrative for us, we might branch out to other sports.”
“But racing?” I can’t help but cringe. I’m biased, sure, but racing sounds so damn boring compared to fighting. Is there blood involved? What about pure, unadulterated rage?
Johnny shrugs. “We’re just looking into it.” The Crew entity itself is always looking for ways to make money. Honestly, if they weren’t criminals, they’d be damn good businessmen.
Like usual, Magnum parks the car and the three of us head toward the entrance of the track. Magnum’s presence is more unnerving than it’s ever been. When his gaze is on me, my skin pricks, and it’s always on me, so I’m in a constant state of nerves. For someone who wants me to stay out of his business, he seems to take a keen interest in me.
Johnny shows our tickets to the woman scanning them, and then she directs us to one of the boxes that stands high above the actual track. We climb three tiers of seats before we end up in an enclosed, square room, much like the one rising above the fights in the underground warehouse. This one isn’t as fancy though, nor as secluded. Other spectators are already here enjoying the races below, heads together discussing race-type things. Like tires and gas and engines and a bunch of other words that may as well be a foreign language to me.
