by Nora Cobb
“Get out!” I shout.
“Not yet.” Bryce walks back toward the bed and glances at the dirt marks his shoes left behind. “I’ve noticed your interest in our new student, and let’s not waste time pretending which one. There’s only one that has both our interests this year.”
“What about her?” I ask.
“To the point. That’s good.” Bryce leans against the wall, and I’d like to put him through it. Unfortunately, he has figured out my precarious situation. I have to fight at the Pit, or I can’t pay for my last term at Stonehaven.
Bryce tilts his head, pretending to think before he speaks, but he knows what he is going to say. “Astrid must know your secret. Touching, like Clark Kent and Lois Lane. But she hasn’t told me, not with words anyway. She’s a good fighter, unlike the few girls there. But the crowd isn’t interested in seeing women fight unless it’s a catfight. Skimpy outfits, hair pulling, nip slips, and plump asses bouncing in the air. Two hot girls fighting would draw in more money than any good male fighter, including you.”
He leaves the thought out there but doesn’t voice exactly what he wants. Bryce is leaving it up to me to bite, but I’m not taking the bait. I get why Astrid slapped him, and I would’ve held him in place, but disputes aren’t settled like that at Stonehaven. We have to be civilized and thrash people’s esteem with our petty words.
Bryce finally opens the door to leave. “Don’t try to be clever, Wyatt. You were never good at that. Just do as I say. That’s all the thinking you have to do. And that other task,” he says, “Did you do it yet?”
“Not yet,” I reply evenly.
“That’s a shame.” He slowly closes the door. “I might have to get someone else.”
Chapter 19
Astrid
Oh, the irony. Justin and I almost get caught leaving. No talking or tripping over our feet as we hustle down the hallway toward the exit. But we freeze in place when we hear coughing and footsteps approaching. Justin tries a doorknob near us, and thankfully, the door opens. We squeeze into a janitor’s closet, careful not to knock over a mop and a pail filled with nasty-ass opaque water. I have to maneuver my feet over it, so I’m straddling that filthy thing. Justin pulls the door closed but leaves his hand on the doorknob. Immediately, the footsteps pass by the closed door, and I think we’re safe, but Justin gives me a scathing look. I hear a voice, then laughter, and I freeze in place again. We wait there for what feels like hours, my legs trembling from holding the awkward pose.
Eventually, Justin opens the door, and the lights in the hallway have been shut off.
We slip back down the stairwell, and now, the dark building creeps me out. Noises bang in the distance, but we don’t hear or see another person. We slip out of the door, and I grab Justin by the arm before he can slip away.
“Hey, so does this mean I’m in?” I whisper as we run from the building.
“The senior members have to meet and decide,” he replies, “You may be asked to do another task.”
“Like what?” I almost shout in disbelief. We just stole school property, and it’s on my person, not his. The weight in my backpack jabs me sharply in the back while we run toward the trail.
His voice is short. “We shall see.”
“What are you two doing here?”
My feet launch into the air as I jump completely out of my skin. I have to grab my chest to keep my heart from popping out my throat. But Justin remains calm as he stares into the darkness at the person approaching us. Wyatt is dressed in his black workout gear and carrying a bag over his shoulder. He scowls at Justin, but Justin responds with an apathetic roll of his eyes.
“Why are the two of you here?” Wyatt glares at Justin as he steps between us.
Justin looks Wyatt up and down but doesn’t answer.
“What the hell is going on with the two of you?” He glares at me, and I place a finger to my lips. Wyatt ignores the warning to be quiet. “Why are you out here alone?” he demands as he grabs Justin by the front of his turtleneck. I take a step back and hold my breath.
Justin knocks Wyatt’s hand off him. “We haven’t broken any codes. Yet.”
Wyatt lowers his voice. “What’s that phrase under your dad’s picture? I saw it online. Slick Willy. That’s it. Who said it always gleams?” He laughs. “Was it the senator’s aide? Do you have a slick one too? Or just your dad?”
“Shut your mouth, Wyatt,” Justin hisses. “Keep it shut. You don’t get to say that. You understand. And I’m nothing like my father.”
Wyatt doesn’t respond. But the tension builds in the dark, and I back away from them. Sure, people fight at the Pit every weekend, but these two sound like they’re ready to kill and won’t give a single fuck when it’s done. Wyatt finally remembers that I’m still there as Justin steps in my direction.
I want nothing to do with their freak-out and step off the trail toward the dorms. “You can both claim the impropriety code without me.” I run off with the laptop pounding against my back.
Chapter 20
Astrid
Being back at the Pit feels like diving into a cool pool on a blazing hot summer day. Back where I belong and where I know the rules of engagement. Nova and I have no problem getting past Teeny. She flirts with him for old times’ sake, but our status has changed. We’re employees now, with our names permanently on the list.
She gives Teeny a delicious smile as he opens the door for us. “Thank you, sweetie,” she purrs.
“Are you fighting tonight?” He stares earnestly into her eyes.
“Not tonight, sweetie.” Nova twists her body in a sexy pose. “But when I do, I’ll dedicate that win to you.”
We try to strut through the packed warehouse but can barely squeeze by the people toward the makeshift bar. We both stop in our tracks and gawk. The bar at the far left, near the foreman’s office, has been replaced with an actual bar. Just last weekend, for a beer, you had to line up in front of some guy with a keg. A few plastic milk carts on the ground provided a barricade between him and us, and a girl with thin arms and inked sleeves held onto the cash box and made change. It’s all gone, replaced with a counter made of black laminated wood and four taps. The choices are still beer and vodka, but people can place their cash on a counter.
“What the fuck?” says Nova, staring. “When did this happen?”
She’s not interested in my speculation as she steps into the line. The guy pouring drinks glances up and sees us waiting. He motions to the skinny girl, and she waves us to the front of the line. He places two red cups on the counter, and when we try to pay, he waves us off. Nova leaves a dollar in his Red Sox’s cap, and we hurry off past the long line.
“The neighborhood up in here is changing,” she mutters.
I sip from my cup as I scan the warehouse for more changes, and I spy a major one. Bryce is on the catwalk, standing next to Grinder. Sure, he was hanging out there before, but now, he’s deep in conversation with Grinder. Bryce isn’t hanging back respectfully as he points his finger, and Grinder grimly listens. I look around for Justin and Pierce, knowing they have to be close by. But I don’t see them. I glance over at the shadowy glass.
Grinder spots Nova and me below. He says something to Bryce, and Bryce instantly makes eye contact. I’m mortified that he saw me looking up at him like some peasant begging the king for a scrap off his table. Grinder motions us toward the stairs leading up, and that’s when I see Pierce and Justin also looking down.
I tug Nova’s elbow. “They want us up there,”
Nova looks at them and curls her lips. “Looks like your people.”
I look at her disapproving pout. “What’s that mean?”
“Don’t you go to school with those kids?” she states in a sweetly sarcastic tone.
We never talk much about the change. But I sense the resentment from my old friends. It’s not jealousy. I’m not better than them, but I’m being treated differently—the easy access, the free beer, and rubbing shoulders wi
th the rich kids. The special treatment won’t go to my head because I know where I’ll end up. I still belong with the Monarch crowd.
We climb up the steel stairs as Bryce watches us from the corner of his eye. Tight-lipped, Nova struts over toward the other side of Grinder and leans against the railing, avoiding eye contact with the rich boys the whole time. Pierce looks her over like he’s considering her, but she’ll toss him off the catwalk if he even tries to place a curious hand on her ass. I move forward to join Nova, but Bryce catches my arm.
His smile is so fake. “I want you on the couch. Please.”
“Only because you said please,” I reply coldly.
Bryce doesn’t respond. I know what he expects, and tonight, I decide to obey. I flop down on the couch, and Nova watches me. She decides to follow, and we sit side by side. Bryce walks over, oozing charm, and sits down in between us. He drapes his arms over the back of the couch like he owns us, and a spike of hate shoots through me.
“Nova? Right?” He holds out his hand, and she glances at his palm as if a fly has landed on it.
She touches his hand lightly, not wholly dissing him. “Yes, I’m Nova.”
“I’m Bryce Shelton…” For a moment, I cringe, but he doesn’t say from where. “And I’ve wanted to meet you.”
Nova flicks her eyes over him, taking an interest in the apparent flattery. “I’m always here Saturday and Sunday. You only need to look.”
“Well, I’m glad I did.” His gaze works its way up Nova’s body from her muscled legs to her full breasts. I twitch next to him, wondering if I’m feeling protective of my friend or jealous. Bryce’s gaze finally lands on Nova’s face, and I can tell by the set of her mouth, she wants to slap him.
“You know what?” she says, “I’m going to watch the fight from far over there.”
Nova stands up, but Bryce wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his side. Grinder glances over and then turns away, focusing on the spectacle below.
“I want to talk to you.” Bryce leans his mouth near her ear. “I want you to make some serious cash.”
Nova stops struggling against his grip, and her expression softens as she considers listening to the jerk. Bryce looks at Grinder, who’s pretending to ignore us. “Clear the view,” Bryce raises his voice, “so the ladies can see.”
Grinder glares at Bryce and then at Justin and Pierce, who are watching Bryce. The boys continue their conversation while stepping away casually as if they wanted to be over there anyway. Wordlessly, Grinder does the same. Nova watches as Bryce relaxes his grip on both of us. Nova fidgets in her seat, making herself comfortable as we settle in to watch the fight below.
I don’t know if I should be embarrassed by hanging out with a rich snob or if I should deck him for flirting with Nova in front of me. My face is tight as I stare down at the ring and fold my arms, determined not to touch Bryce despite our proximity. He continues to talk to Nova, little bullshit phrases about how he’s heard she’s exceptional, and he’d like to see someone with actual talent fight. Nova tilts her head, and a smile crosses her lips as she relaxes her body into Bryce’s side. She giggles as they watch Derick climbs into the ring dressed in lime green with a matching cowboy hat. I can’t hear what Bryce says to her next, but she laughs loudly and nods her head.
How can she let herself be taken in by him so quickly? Did I do the same?
“Ladies and gentlemen,” shouts Derick in his lime-green mic, “this is the night history will be altered as energy collides and spins our world out of its orbit.”
I cringe at the ridiculousness, but Nova and Bryce laugh like it’s their inside joke. Derick continues to work up the crowd with one-liners until Grinder folds his arms. The Pit used to be down and dirty and badass. People came here to show skill, and you could even learn while you got your ass pummeled. But not now; it’s worse than a reality show.
“It’s time to finish your drink,” continues Derick, “so you won’t spill it because the main event is about to start, y’all.” Derick sweeps his arm. “In the blue corner, we have the man you want to cheer. The fighter incognito—Mask.”
Mask steps into the ring and raises his arm as the crowd cheers its approval. Mask circles around once and then stands in his corner. He glances up quickly at the catwalk, but his attention is back on the ring when Derick starts to announce his opponent.
“And the challenger is built up stronger and broader than the wall around Fort Knox,” Derick holds his hand to his ear. “Did I hear someone say Brickhouse? Well, here he comes, moving toward us. Y’all better move back.”
Nova starts to laugh along with Bryce, and I hear him ask her, “Where do they get their names?” She turns around and beams a smile at Bryce like he’s her best friend. I hug my arms tighter, but they aren’t paying attention to me.
Brickhouse earns as many cheers as Mask, but it’s coming mainly from the guys checking out his massive torso. Brickhouse resembles a freak of nature, made of muscle and nothing else. He’s wider than Mask and has to weigh a ton more. The guy towers over everything in the warehouse, and when Brickhouse lifts his arm, he looks as if he could touch the ceiling. I move to stand, but Bryce’s hand grips my shoulder hard as he continues his intimate conversation with Nova. I sit back in my seat, but my body is on alert as my nerves vibrate like live wires traveling through me. Mask is talented, but his challenger is a beast. There’s no way Mask will win, and even if he does, he’s going to need medical attention.
The fight begins as soon as Derick flees the ring. I watch for Derick to come up to the catwalk, but he doesn’t show. He always watches the fight from up here, but I stop looking for Derick when the chanting begins.
“Fuck him up!” a guy in the crowd howls. “I paid for blood.”
My body starts to shake, and I rub my hands over my goose bumps, hoping it won’t be as bad as I expect. I glance over at Bryce, and he’s staring at me while Nova leans forward to watch the fight. He’s unnerving me with his icy looks, constantly assessing what I must be feeling. It’s hard to hide the concern fixed on my face. I wonder if Bryce knows that it’s Wyatt and if he’ll stop the fight to protect him. But I can’t snitch, not even to save him.
“Ooh!” someone shouts below, and our attention immediately goes back to the ring. Mask is on the ground, but he’s up again before Brickhouse can strike him. Mask dances back, placing space between them, but Brickhouse isn’t going to let Mask stall. He moves forward quickly, and Mask narrowly misses being pinned to the ropes.
Bryce has taken his arms off Nova and me, and we sit in a row on the edge of the couch. Nova is cheering on Mask, but Bryce watches unemotionally. Well, he’s trying to seem as if he doesn’t care, but Bryce clenches his fists tighter than the two men in the ring.
“Come on, ladies. Stop dickin’ around.”
I glare, wishing I could get that asshole into the ring.
The fight starts out slow, and the strategy riles the crowd up. Some asshole tosses his empty cup into the ring. Grinder’s eyes sweep over the spectators. If he figures out who did it, the guy’ll be banned for life. After a few tentative punches, Mask backs away toward the ropes. I hold my breath. Not a good move—he’ll be trapped. But when Brickhouse thinks he’s got him cornered, Mask pivots behind him. Mask lands a wicked blow to Brickhouse’s lower back and sends the giant man into the ropes.
People scream, and a rush of movement starts away from the stage as Brickhouse sways low on the ropes. I smile, hoping that Brickhouse will land on the obnoxious fool who threw the cup.
Mask lands another jab before Brickhouse straightens up. Brickhouse uses the ropes’ momentum to straighten up, and Mask doesn’t have a chance to get away. Brickhouse lashes out and lands a savage blow on Mask’s face. Mask stumbles back in a daze, bringing up his hands in time to block another blow.
Bryce scoffs and then crosses his legs, smiling as if he’s only just amused. I look back again, and the fighters are in a huddle. Mask’s fist disappears into a
blur.
The fight shifts in a blink as Brickhouse wises up and uses his own weight against Mask. They both tumble to the floor as Brickhouse goes limp, pulling Mask down. Their arms are linked together. Brickhouse only strikes once before Mask rolls onto his feet. Brickhouse tries to move his heavy mass, but Mask kicks out his legs, sending him back down.
Each time the heavy man tries to lift himself, Mask sends him hurtling back down to the floor again. Every time Brickhouse lands against the cement surface, he does more damage, as if he’s beating himself up. Brickhouse lies on his back, panting and refusing to move. Derick jumps into the ring, declaring Mask the winner.
I’m on my feet and rush the railing, looking down at the ring at Mask. He pulls his torn shirt off, and the phoenix stretches across his toned back in flight. Nova is beside me, cheering and gripping my hand as she waves her fist.
