by Mj Fields
“You’ll be there for support. There’s only two involved in the fight,” Justice states sternly.
“But if they all jump in, we—”
“No one’s gonna jump in,” Tobias says as he increases the speed, cutting Max off.
Amias glares at his back. “That’s too bad.”
As soon as Brisa and Tris are out of Kiki’s vehicle, I ask, “Do you really think Tobias is Shades?”
“I rarely forget a face,” she says, hitting the gas.
“Doesn’t make sense. Saturday night, it seemed like he hated Frank.”
Kiki laughs. “How is that different from the day I got the rings? He was pissed at him, remember?”
“Jesus, that’s true, isn’t it?”
She nods. “Have you looked him up at all?”
“Meaning …?”
“Oh, come on! You borderline stalked Harrison Reeves, yet you haven’t him?”
“First, stalked is a really harsh word. Second”—I throw myself back in my seat—“his IG is private.”
She laughs. “I can help investigate on Thursday after school.”
“Brand leaves Thursday morning, right?” I ask.
She nods. “Come stay with me for the weekend.”
“You should ask Tris to stay with you on Saturday night,” I suggest.
“I love my little bundle of Brand in my belly, but it sucks I can’t be there.”
“Tris could use a little Kiki time.”
“I could use a little Tris time, too, I suppose.”
Wednesday
Same soft cast boot, different day … or something like that.
The horsemen, minus Easton, seem to be around every corner, and not one person has uttered an ugly word at me all day. It’s been perfect, actually.
I am the first of my crew, at the fitness center, having snuck out of my last class in hopes of avoiding the parade of horsemen, but I’m not alone.
Today, Tobias is in black Nike tennis shoes, white Nike track pants with a black swoosh on his narrow hip. His shoulders act as a clothes hanger to a black Nike hoodie with a white swoosh. His hood is down today, and he has a backward white ball cap on. For the first time—well, except for that time I saw him stepping out of his shower, and that one time in the ring—his head is held high and his Persian blue eyes are intense, so damn intense.
Thankfully, I didn’t fall today.
Guilt riddles me at the way I get so hot for the boy that Justice will be fighting on Saturday. Thankfully, no one can see it, and even more gratefully, Justice seems actually excited about the fight and is taking my advice on footwork, as well as working with the knowledge that Patrick, Brisa, and I have from watching Tobias fight. All those things help ease the guilt I have about that, too.
Tobias is hitting the bag with a ferocity that makes me shudder.
He’s not hot today. He’s the enemy.
He stops his assault on the bag and, with his back to me, begins to pace, his chest heaving and falling as I sit down on a mat with my lunch, back to the wall.
“You should really wear a fucking bell,” he pants.
“You should know, if you hurt him, I’ll hate you with every fiber of my being.”
He snaps his head back and glares at me. “I didn’t ask for this fight. He did.”
Pissed, I hop—yes, hop—up and make my way toward him. “You’ve been begging for one of them to fight since we got here.”
“Is that the”—he air quotes my name—“ ‘Truth?’ ”
“Fuck you,” I spit at him.
“I’d rather fuck—”
“Wasn’t offering. And spare me the itty bitty visual. I know you and Double Dee have a thing. Good for you. But you hurt him, you’ll pay.”
“Don’t threaten me, Truth.”
“This is my fault. Okay, I get it. But I’d rather you punch me in the face than hurt my brother.”
“You have that little faith in him?” He shakes his head.
“No, he’s sparred with bigger than you most of his life. It’s you I have no faith in.”
He licks his lips as he steps closer and lifts his hand like he’s going to touch me. My nipples tighten in anticipation, as he looks down at them, and stops himself.
“What’s wrong Easton? You afraid you’ll pop a pup tent in your sweats if you—”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. “You stick to having no faith in me, or any other assholes around here. None of us want you for anything other than to stir up your boys.”
Ouch.
His eyes move from one of mine to the next, and then he looks me up and down. “That right there is your truth. Never lose focus on it.”
“What?” I ask as he walks around me.
He grabs his bag and towel off the bench by the wall then turns toward me, pinning me with an angry glare. “Any other thoughts you may have in that pre—” He stops, clenches his jaw, his nostrils flaring, before continuing, “In that pathetic head of yours, shut it down, because I would ruin you.”
Rendered speechless, angry … hurt by the word pathetic, which in and of itself is pathetic, because who the fuck is he anyway? I stand and watch him through the mirrors on the wall as he walks out of the fitness center and the girls come walking in.
Chapter Eleven
Idiom
Her feelings are all over the map.
Truth
When tits deep in them, it’s nearly impossible to be ‘all over the map’..
“Hey.”
I jump at the sound of Justice’s voice, and he chuckles. He’s been doing a lot of that lately, which is uncharacteristic of him.
“What are you grinning about?”
He scowls and points to himself. “Me?”
I put my phone on the charging pad then lean back against the headboard of my bed. “You look happy.”
His scowl deepens as he leans against the door. “I’m always happy.”
“Okay.” I roll my eyes. “So, spill it.”
He arches a brow. “Not something I care to share with my sister.”
“Tell me it’s a girl and not this fight.”
“Something like that.”
“Are you in love?” I ask, hopeful, because he deserves to be happy and not just have a happy ending.
“Fuck no,” he huffs. “Told you a long time ago that there’s a time and a place for that shit, and it’s not in high school or college.”
“So, it is the fight.” I cross my arms over my chest and scowl at him.
“T …” He rolls his eyes.
“You shouldn’t get happy about a damn fight.”
“I’ll spell it out for you once. Girls who may have once found me intimidating seem to like guys who fight. The harvest is grand, the bounty plentiful, and smell real damn good at Seashore. My cup, so to speak, runni—”
I hold up my hand to stop him. “I get it.”
He laughs, and I can’t help but do the same.
“You feeling a little better?” he asks, sitting on the edge of my bed and not flopping down on it.
I nod. “You can sleep in your own room tonight.”
“Good.” He grabs his pillow and blanket off my bed, pops a kiss to the top of my head, turns, and then walks toward my door, but then he turns back. “Heard they’re treating you like a queen now.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m sure they’re up to something.”
“Spoiler alert, T: Reeves says he likes you.”
“What?” I ask, disgusted.
“I told him he looked at you wrong, I’d break his face.”
“Is that so?” I throw a pillow at him, but he easily dodges it. “You stay out of my dating life unless you want me tits-deep in yours.”
He shakes his head and walks away.
After a few messages between Patrick and me, regarding my concern that Justice is simply deflecting and Patrick telling me guys are just not that deep, I set the phone on the charging pad and snuggle up in my bed.
Thursday
He rolls his eyes and pushes off the wall.
Turning the corner, I see Kai leaning against the locker right next to mine.
“You’re out of order today.”
He looks up from his phone. “What?”
Shielding my lock so he doesn’t see my combination, I turn the dial and answer, “It’s been Harrison, Miles, and then you for the past few days.”
“I guess it has been.”
I toss my books in, grab my lunch and a book, shut and lock it behind me, and then start walking toward the fitness center.
The next corner I turn, I see Harrison standing in the middle of the hall, holding a dozen pink roses.
I hear whispers as I keep walking toward the fitness center. They’re far from the norm.
“Told you he liked her.”
“Gabrielle is going to lose her mind.”
“Jesus, she’s lucky.”
To that comes a response that nearly knocks me on my ass.
“Maybe it’s him who’s lucky. Look at her.”
I can’t help a smirk from tugging on my lips.
His signature pursed smirk pushes out, and his brown eyes dance in amusement as he looks me over.
When I attempt to walk past him, he steps to the side, blocking me.
“Good afternoon, Miss Steel.”
I look down at my phone. “Technically, morning, Mr. Reeves.”
He nods. “That it is.”
Focused on his eyes, not allowing myself to look down and say something stupid like I did the last time he was passive-aggressively flirting with me, I nod and say, “If you’ll excuse me.”
“The last woman I gave flowers to was my mother. I’ve never given them to a girl on a random Thursday or any other day without it being for a prom or formal, and in those cases, I did it with clear intent.” He holds them up and inhales, lashes lowered, fanning out over his face, and then he slowly opens his eyes, laser focused on mine as he hands them to me.
I hesitate to take them from him.
“It’s just a random Thursday bouquet, Miss Steel, from your not-so-secret admirer.”
My heart beats a bit faster as I reach out and take them.
“No strings, just stems.”
I feel my face blush. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome, Miss Steel.”
He then steps aside, and I walk past him to the fitness center, making sure I walk slow and not run to my girls and ask them to remind me he’s an asshole.
When I walk into the fitness center, it’s empty. I set the flowers down and start drafting a text to Kiki, Brisa, and the self-proclaimed love guru Tris when the door opens.
Smiling, I look up and feel my smile wobble.
He looks past me to the bench, the muscles in his jaw begin to flex, fists clenched as he looks back at me and, in a deep Dad-like growl, says, “Anyone but him.”
Expelling the word, “Why?” seems to leave me breathless.
“Because I fucking said so,” he sneers as he walks past me and right to the speed bag.
“What the hell, Truth?” Brisa squeals as she walks in the door and rushes not to me but to the flowers. “Harrison fucking Reeves.” She laughs as she picks them up and smells them.
Behind us, I hear bam, bam, bam, bam.
In the mirror, I see him at the speed bag.
“I told you all,” Tris sighs exaggeratedly. “My God, if you kids would all just listen to me once in a while.”
Bam, bam, bam, bam.
Kiki walks in, laughing. “You sure did, LG.”
“What’s LG mean?” Tris asks.
“Love guru,” Kiki jokes.
“Laugh all you want, but if you need any advice on keeping it fresh with Brand when this honeymoon stage wears off, I got you.”
Bam, bam, bam, bam.
Watching him, I swear my heart is beating at the same pace as his strikes, feeding off his pheromones like I’m starved and haven’t eaten in weeks.
“And when you get ready”—Tris smirks—“I have all sorts of tricks to teach you.”
Bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, bam, smash.
I watch in the mirror as the speed bag flies off the chain, hits the mirror, and the glass cracks.
“Fuck this!” Tobias yells as he grabs his towel, storming past us and out the door.
“Holy shit!” Kiki gasps.
“What the hell was that all about?” Brisa whispers.
“No idea.” Tris grins. “But is it just me, or is he freaking hot?”
“It would probably be easier to just go ask Frank about him than to find anything out searching on the web,” I say, dropping my bag on Kiki’s floor.
“Girl, however will you decide which one makes you hotter—the old hippy man who runs the jewelry shop, the guy who wears tights and torments you and everyone around you, or the one who I’ve nearly had to use my sleeve to wipe drool from under your chin so you don’t embarrass yourself while giving me secondhand embarrassment at the gym who, by the way, is going to try to fuck up a face that looks like yours in two days?” Kiki asks as she pulls out a tray of chocolate-covered strawberries with a tented note and a rose. She sets it on the kitchen island, rips the plastic wrap off of it, shoves one in her mouth, and moans.
Her phone rings, and she hits accept call. Then, holding the phone in front of her, she smiles while trying to cover her mouth.
“You didn’t read the note, did you?” Brand laughs.
“Yes,” she says while shaking her head in complete contradiction.
He laughs as she quickly chews and swallows it down.
“You can’t leave chocolate in a house with a pregnant chick,” she says then pops another in her mouth.
“I’m just messing with you, Katy girl. I know you have company—”
“I’m not company. I’m family,” I say loud enough for him to hear, and he laughs.
“Lemme see my belly,” he says, a smile in his voice.
Kiki shrugs off her blazer, switching hands instead of laying the phone down on the counter, no doubt wanting to see his face, and pulls up her shirt.
“Conway, make your momma behave and rest.”
“That name’s not sticking either,” Kiki scolds him as she brings the phone back up to her face.
“Katy girl, we really need to come to a decision at some point soon.”
“I’ll help her figure it out.”
“Good idea. You two should make a list tonight. Skip school and make it tomorrow. Hell, keep making that list until I come back Sunday morning.”
“Brand, we’re going to be fine.”
“Didn’t wanna leave,” he says softly.
“Someone has to work.” She winks.
“I’ll bring home the money, you keep working on baking that bun I put in your oven.”
She smiles. “Will do.”
“Love you. Call me when you lay down for the night.”
“Love you, and I will.”
She hangs up, grabs another strawberry, shoves it in her mouth, and then grabs the whole tray. “Let’s go do some digging.”
Through an hour’s worth of searches, we find out that the house Tobias Easton lives in belonged to a Hope Easton, who passed away at the age of twenty-nine while serving in the US Naval Reserves. The photos we found of her are the same as the woman in the picture on Tobias’s IG. The fact that she is only sixteen years older than him would lead one to believe she was his much older sister, but further digging unveils that she was actually his mother. Being her only known relative, he was given the house.
“He was fourteen when she died,” I whisper as I hold my hand over my heart.
We couldn’t find much on him. As a minor and one who seems to like his privacy, unlike most of our generation who shares everything on social media, finding anything more is extremely difficult. But what we surmised is he’s eighteen and do
esn’t need a guardian.
“Mystery man,” Kiki says sadly, closing the laptop.
“I’m sure Harrison and the other two know everything.”
“How odd is it that they’re friends? Harrison, Miles, and Kai aren’t nice to anyone. They don’t even act like our peers without big names and plastic tits present. And Tobias doesn’t even hang around them at school.”
“Well, we don’t have to wonder where he gets money to eat and own a different workout outfit every day.” I lean back into the overstuffed couch cushion. “Those fights are big money. I bet he walks away with twenty grand, even if he doesn’t win.”
“Wonder how he reports that to the IRS.” Kiki laughs.
“Gonna guess that doesn’t happen.”
“You said you paid through an app. How do you erase that paper trail?”
“Honestly, Kiki, I don’t even want to know. I just wish I never even went to the outcast cast party. I feel like all of this is my fault, including my brother now being put in danger because of someone’s hate for me.”
“Someone?” she huffs. “You mean PBJ?”
“You know, I thought so, too, but what does she have to gain? If she liked Harrison, like really liked him, that would be the last thing anyone with half a brain would do. Think about it. Why would she want to even shed light on me or you?”
“Because crazy people don’t use logical reasoning, Truth. And from what I have seen, she’s crazy with a capital C.”
Chapter Twelve
Idiom
She’s becoming all the rage.
Truth
I’d rather be the cause of happiness.
Friday
The halls of Seashore aren’t as quiet as they had been since Tuesday. There’s a new excitement buzzing, and I know that buzz isn’t because the baseball team has its first game after school tonight, or the fact that notifications from The Sound for a party have hit the upper echelon of the elite to an after party at none other than Gabrielle Morales-Ortez’s house. It’s the fight.
