by Nicole Fox
My jaw clenches. I remember those eyes looking at me while her boyfriend and his biker buddies took turns swinging steel-toed boots into my ribs.
The desire in my gut vanishes instantly.
Fuck this girl.
“What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Scaring you, apparently.” Her lips tip into a nervous smile, and she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, bouncing from foot to foot. “I saw your truck and … wanted to talk.”
“You and I don’t have anything to talk about. I thought I made that clear. I’m starting to think you need a more memorable lesson.”
I slam the door shut and stomp towards the front door.
I hear her soft footsteps behind me. “We do, actually. Clearly, we are going to be seeing a lot of each other, and I think it would be nice if we weren’t at odds.”
My hand closes around the key in my palm, and I can feel the metal biting into my skin.
It’s good. The pain helps keep me grounded.
It reminds me that no matter how good this bitch looks right after a run, any interaction with her comes with a very painful catch.
For years now, I’ve managed to keep the two parts of my life separate. My friends think I’m training to be a martial artist. They’ve offered to go to tournaments to support me, but I always refuse, claiming I wouldn’t be able to focus if my friends were there acting like idiots.
They have no idea about the underground fights.
And I want it to stay that way.
Unfortunately, out of all of the people in this godforsaken town who could have blown my cover, Haley Cochran is the one who has stepped forward to do the job.
If she were anyone else, I’d beat her into silence. My fists have always been my best problem solvers.
But when it comes to Miss Cochran, it looks like I’m going to need to find a different method.
Finn was always good at this shit. He knew how to play the mind games. How to hurt people without lifting a finger.
But he’s gone now. Guess I’ll have to pick up the slack.
I halt my march to the front door and turn on my heels. Haley stutters to a stop, her eyes going wide with surprise—and maybe fear.
Good. That’s a start.
Her hair is bound into a thick ponytail at the back of her head, but wild curls spill free around her temples and the base of her neck.
“We’re only seeing a lot of each other because you seem to be under the impression that you can blackmail me.”
“Blackmail is a strong word. It’s more like … encouragement.”
My body is sticky with sweat from practice, and I don’t want to be doing this.
Not with her. Not here.
I tip forward onto my toes, towering over her. Her throat bobs with nervousness. “In that case, I ‘encourage’ you to get out of my face before you get hurt.”
I turn to go back into the house, but Haley jogs around me, her chest bouncing with the movement.
This girl honestly has no sense of self-preservation. If she was smart, she’d be running in the opposite direction.
“Don’t do that,” I growl.
Haley takes a step forward, her blue eyes wide. “You won’t hurt me.”
Refusing to back down, I take a step forward, too. I can feel the heat rolling off her body, and I can smell the fruity musk of her sweat. It should be disgusting, but annoyingly, it is anything but.
“You’ve never been more wrong.”
Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip. “Any guy who steps up to protect a girl he doesn’t know from a handsy guy—twice—is not the kind of guy who puts his hands on women in his spare time.”
“You don’t know me.”
Haley takes a deep breath, and her chest brushes against mine. “Yes, I do.”
She barely finishes the sentence before my hand is wrapped around her wrist. I spin her around, ignoring her yelp of surprise, twist her arm behind her back, and wrap my other arm around her bare stomach to pull her back tightly against my front.
“No,” I hiss in her ear, “you don’t.”
Her body is trembling against mine, and it’s doing nothing for the problem in my shorts, but I can’t think about that now.
Haley thinks she knows me.
She thinks she understands what she is getting herself into.
But she has no idea.
I’ve kept my secrets safe for this long. She sure as fuck isn’t going to be the one to mess that up.
Haley’s breaths come in ragged gasps. She tries to pull her arm free, but I tighten my hold.
It doesn’t take much strength. She really is weak.
I feel the moment her surprise shifts to panic. Her entire body goes rigid with fear. She freezes up, and her breathing turns frantic.
Before I can really think about what I’m doing, I spin her around and look into her eyes. The black of her pupils has eaten away at the bright blue. She is an animal trapped in a cage, a mouse caught in a trap. Helpless and terrified.
“Is all of this because of Bumper?”
Bumper. That’s what her ex-boyfriend went by. I could spend the next hundred years thinking of idiotic nicknames and still not come up with anything stupider.
The question seems to break through the fog of her fear. She swallows and nods, slight color coming back into her cheeks.
“It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? You two aren’t even dating anymore.”
She opens her mouth to answer and then frowns, studying me. “How did you know that?”
I push her away and step back, putting some much-needed space between us. “I’m at the fights every week. I haven’t seen you with him in a few months.”
One of her dark brows arches upwards. “You look for me?”
“You wish. Bumper is hard to miss. You said I strut around, but your ex-boyfriend is the king of it. Asshole thinks his shit doesn’t stink.”
Her red lips twist together, and she lowers her eyes to the ground, curls falling over her forehead. “I dumped him at the end of last year. As you know, he sucked. Saturday night was my first time back at the fights since then, and clearly, it should be my last.”
“You don’t have a good track record there, that’s for sure.”
Something like a smile plays on her lips, and she shrugs. “Not as good as yours. It’s why I want you to help me.”
I sigh and take another step back. “Watch a YouTube video or hire an instructor. You don’t need me.”
“But I do,” she says, closing the distance between us again. “I can’t learn how to fight through the internet, and I don’t have the money for an instructor.”
“Your parents just bought a million-dollar house. I think they can afford to pay Sam’s Karate downtown two hundred a month for lessons.”
She lets out a harsh huff of air, clearly frustrated. “Listen, you have secrets you want to keep, and so do I. If my parents do give me money for lessons, I’m not going to give it to Sam. I’m going to save it. And until I can save enough money, I need to know how to defend myself.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s the money for then?”
At that, she lets out a chuckle. “That’s not for you to worry about. What I need from you is your expertise.”
“In exchange for you keeping your mouth shut about the underground?”
She nods.
“Fuck,” I snarl. “If you were a guy, I’d beat the shit out of you. You do understand that, right?”
She nods again. “I know. I’m only doing it now because there is no other choice.”
“I could ruin you, you know,” I say in a low voice. “With a single phone call to Finn, I could have your father fired. You think your pretty little life is hell already? I could turn Ravenlake Prep into an actual hellscape for you. I have the ability to destroy your life, and the only reason I’m not is because teaching you to fight uses less energy. But the second you become more trouble than you’re worth, this deal ends, and
I destroy you. Are we clear?”
She swallows, her throat bobbing nervously, and then she nods. “So you’ll do it?”
I lower my face to hers until I see her lashes flutter when I exhale. “Tell me you understand the terms of this deal. I want to hear you say it.”
Her lips twitch together. “I understand.”
“You keep your mouth shut, and when this is over, you stay out of my sight and keep away from my friends. Repeat that back to me.”
“I keep my mouth shut,” she breathes. Her breath smells like peppermint. “And I leave you alone.”
I let go of her arms and step back, flinging an arm towards the drive. “We’re done here. Fuck off.”
She hesitates for a moment, doe eyes watching me.
Then, just as quickly as she appeared, Haley leaves, jogging down the driveway and onto the road towards her house.
14
Haley
As I jog away from Caleb, I can’t help but wonder…
Did I just strike a deal with the devil?
My heart is still hammering against my ribs. I think I did a good job of playing it cool, but I never know for sure when it comes to him. There’s too much between us for me to read the situation clearly.
Too much tension.
Too much history.
Too much fear.
But this might work. Throwing myself at Caleb’s mercy might actually be the only way to save myself from his wrath.
Either that, or I just did the dumbest thing possible. Offered myself up to the monster like a tasty snack and said, “Eat me, please!”
Idiotic or inspired? Only time will tell.
I go shower and change out of my sweaty running clothes. Dad is working late, so Mom is eating in the kitchen alone, but I don’t feel like joining her.
I’m not hungry anyway. Not after that encounter. In fact, I’ve got enough adrenaline still pumping that I feel like I could go for a second run.
The feeling of Caleb’s hard, muscled body pinning me close still haunts me.
I’m not sure whether I like that or not.
Eventually, the adrenaline gives way to exhaustion and I fall asleep on top of my covers. I dream of Caleb, doing what he threatened to do in his truck at school yesterday: strip me naked and send me scurrying out into the parking lot for all to see.
It’s a lot hotter than it ought to be.
When I wake up, I get dressed and head downstairs. Another day at Ravenlake Prep—joy, oh joy.
Mom’s already up and at ‘em. “You never told us about your first day,” Mom says from the kitchen.
“Mmf,” Dad agrees with a mouthful of cheese danish.
“I did tell you. It was fine.”
She sighs and tips her head to the side. “That tells me nothing. Did you make friends? Were your classes interesting? Is the lunch food better?”
“No. No. And hell no.”
Dad frowns. “What about—"
But I cut him off with a fake, toothy smile. “I have to go.”
“Wait.” Mom comes around the island, her palms pressed against her wool trousers, fingers tense. “I know this has been a big transition for you—the move, new school, your breakup—”
I roll my eyes, but she reaches out and squeezes my elbow, draining the angst right out of me.
“Your dad and I want to help. How can we make things better?”
“Let me get a job,” I say without hesitation. She opens her mouth to argue, but I continue before she can. “I’d make friends with my coworkers, and I’d have extra money to spend. Plus, it would help me prepare for college. I’ll have to have a job then.”
“No, you won’t. Your dad and I will take care of you while you focus on your education.”
“Exactly,” Dad chimes in.
I groan. “I don’t want you to take care of me. I want to take care of myself.”
“Take care of yourself by being a kid as long as you can.” She smooths a hand down my cheek.
But I back away from her hand. Ever since Levi pressing that nasty mouth of his on me at the fight the other night, I’m wary of being touched.
Even by my own mother.
Her hand hangs in the air for a minute. She looks disappointed but lowers her arm and pins on a smile anyway.
“Your dad and I will talk about increasing your allowance. Fifty dollars per month should be more than enough since we are already taking care of gas and clothes. What else could you need?”
Oh, nothing much, just thousands of dollars to pay off my drug dealing biker ex-boyfriend who thinks I owe him a major debt and won’t stop until he gets even.
The thought sears into my brain until I’m sure it’s written on my forehead.
I duck my head and turn towards the door. “Nothing. I don’t need anything. Now, I really gotta go or I’ll be late.”
My mom yells a goodbye as the door slams shut.
I look over towards Finn’s house as I go to my car. I know Caleb doesn’t actually live there, but I’m still disappointed when I don’t see his truck.
He scared me yesterday. I’ll never tell him that, but the second he pulled me back against him, his voice a harsh whisper in my ear, I was transported to another place entirely.
A dingy apartment near the train tracks on the bad side of town.
The floor rumbling.
Train horn blaring.
Trapped in another man’s arms while words crueler than anything Caleb could ever say were being whispered in my ear, over and over again like a mantra.
Until my heart beat the curses.
Pumped through my veins.
Until I believed them. Until I became them. Until they almost broke me.
Outside of John’s closest friends, Caleb is one of the only people who know how bad things got with John.
He saw it firsthand.
Even worse, he tried to help. He was the only one who tried to help.
And what did I do?
I punished him for it.
It’s no wonder he hates me.
I’m so lost in my thoughts and guilt that I don’t notice the piece of paper stuck under my windshield wiper until I’m seated in my car.
It can’t be a ticket because I’m parked in my own driveway. Unless this fancy-ass neighborhood takes issue with fifteen-year-old cars with rusted-out underbellies.
I get back out, frowning, and pluck the paper out from under the wiper.
It’s a single piece of printer paper—definitely not a ticket—and there is a message hastily scribbled in permanent marker. The marker is so fresh I can still smell it.
Finally brave enough to come out of your hole? I haven’t forgotten. You owe me, bitch.
Chills race down my spine.
Goose bumps bloom across my arms and legs.
A primal kind of fear curdles my stomach.
My head snaps up, looking for who could have left the note. But the yard is empty. The street is, too.
Someone was at my house.
Someone came to leave me this message.
And I know damn well who it was.
John has finally come to collect.
15
Haley
I send Estefania three texts before I even walk into Ravenlake Prep.
I found a scary note on my car this morning. I’m freaking out.
Things are weird between us, but I could really use a friend right now.
Please call me?
We’ve been best friends since third grade, and even though we drifted apart while I was dating John and even more so since he and I broke up, I still care about her. I hope she still cares about me.
No one else inside the Hell Princes is going to talk to me about what is going on, what they’re scheming…
But Estefania might.
The only reason she became involved with the Hell Princes at all was because of me. Her parents are immigrants and dirt poor even compared to the other kids at Public.
Estefania was bullied a lot
throughout elementary and middle school for being “illegal” and wearing shabby clothes, but it all stopped when we got tangled up with the Hell Princes.
Once people knew who we ran with, they didn’t want to risk getting beat down, so they kept their mouths shut.
People feared us. Estefania liked being on the other side of that.
But John didn’t want me to have friends or allies or even casual acquaintances. He forced a wedge between Estefania and me.
His threats kept us apart, and then time did the rest of the work.
Until my best friend became just another face in the crowd.
And yet, when my dad got promoted at Barber and used his massive pay advance to put a down payment on our new house, Estefania was the first person I told.
I expected her to be happy that I was dumping John and starting over, but she was angry. She felt like I was abandoning her. She claimed a little bit of money had made me suddenly too good for everyone in my life.
I tried to tell her it wasn’t like that, that John was an abusive asshole, but she wouldn’t hear it.
We haven’t talked since.
I check my phone between classes, frantically refreshing to see if John or anyone else might be trying to get in touch with me, but there’s nothing.
By the time I get to lunch, I’ve spent far too much time contemplating what the threat means, wondering when John will strike again, and trying to figure out how I’m going to pay him back when he does.
I’m so overwhelmed by all of it that I’m almost relieved when Penelope LaFevre spots me in the lunch crowd and careens straight towards me, eyes narrowed.
“Where’s your bodyguard?” she snaps. “I had no idea you’d already ingratiated yourself with the Golden Boys.”
“Careful. That’s a big word, you might choke.”
She raises a manicured brow and slicks her tongue over her lips. “No gag reflex. I’m safe.”
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” If so, she failed. I’m nauseated.
“No. I just thought you might be looking for a few pointers from someone who has been with a Golden Boy before.” She shrugs. “Undoubtedly, you’re feeling a little overwhelmed by the previous competition.”
