“Just let me fight,” I say.

“You got potential, kid, and technique. Told ya. You should really be fighting legally.”

I jerk my arm free of his hold. “I’m here to fight now.”

He mutters something and gestures.

The fallen fighter is taken out and the new one brought in.

***

“Here you go.” Johnny pushes a wad of cash into my hand. “Get outta here.”

I fumble with the bills. There isn’t much, but my left eye is closing shut already and my jaw hurts so much I don’t want to talk. Not to mention my whole left side and my back... Fuck.

Blood dribbles down the side of my face. Carl has slapped a Band-Aid over it but I guess it isn’t doing much to stop the bleeding.

Stumbling to a bench, I sink down, clenching the dirty money in my fist. The third fighter that was sent into the cage with me was out to kill me. Maybe the rules weren’t explained to him beforehand? He slammed my head so many times into the floor, Johnny had to pull him off me.

Christ, my head’s killing me. Just what I need.

“Take these painkillers when you get home.” Johnny presses two pills into my hand. “You’ll need them if you want to sleep tonight.”

I look up. “Thanks.”

“Go get some sleep, boy. Go get a job and a girlfriend and don’t come back here.”

“The f**k you say.” I crush the pills in my fist. “I told you I wanna stay.”

“I can’t let you.” He looks regretful. The hell? “I can’t let Jake Devlin’s boy get killed down here.”

“You said no killing.”

“Accidents happen. You’re too young. You got a future. Your dad—”

“Fuck my dad.” I get to my unsteady feet. “He’s an ass**le and has no say in this.”

“Don’t talk about your dad that way. I have a say. And I can’t allow you to fight here anymore.”

“What? No.” Panic grips me. I grab his arm. “Johnny, don’t do this. Please.”

“You should be in college, not throwing your life away.”

“You think I want this?”

He removes my hand from his arm. “If you don’t, then what are you doing here?”

“I need the money, man.”

“Are you into drugs?” he asks, frowning. “You in a gang?”

“What? No.”

“Good. Then go back home, kiddo, and leave this life behind.”

“You don’t understand. I can’t.” I’m going to puke all over Johnny’s shoes. Blood fills my mouth, making me gag. “Need to fight.”

Carl mentioned a big tournament scheduled for New Year’s Day. That’s my chance to fight and get some good money.

Johnny sighs. “Go get some sleep and come back tomorrow in the afternoon. We’ll talk.”

Talk about what? He isn’t listening to me. But I nod anyway, heft my duffel and leave in search of a place to spend the night.

I spit blood onto the street. My whole body aches and by the time I stumble into the busier downtown streets, the pain is making my breath hiss on every step.

I lick the crushed pills from my hand, bitter as bile. Where am I heading?

A question that can apply to my life as a whole. I stagger past lit bars and dingy hotel fronts. No vacancies. No f**king place for me to stay. It has to be close to midnight and my duffel weighs like a ton of bricks.

Audrey. Her name, her face is a whisper in my mind. Maybe I can call her, ask to crash at her place. Even if that means letting her know everything, risking not seeing her again. I’m so tired.

But a search of my pockets tells me I don’t have my cell. Did I leave it at Zane’s? Or at the fight club? Did I drop it somewhere?

Shit.

Dizziness hits me hard. I need a place to crash.

A sign for room rental catches my eye—the one that isn’t swollen shut. I stumble into a dark entrance. Everything’s dark right now in my life. Has to be a metaphor or something.

There’s a button on the grimy desk and I press it. The place stinks of mold and piss. I lean against the desk, my pulse buzzing in my ears. Whoa, so dizzy.

A guy comes into the room, gives me a narrow look but doesn’t ask any questions. I put down some of my precious cash for a room and the guy gives me a key with a number and instructions.

I drag my sorry ass up a flight of stairs and locate my room. I walk inside, drop my duffel to the floor.

Then I flop onto the hard bed and pass out.

Chapter Seventeen

Audrey

Dakota leaves after a long afternoon of catching up and studying. It was great seeing her again and she had fun stories to tell me from her time with her family. Her cousins sound hilarious. One of them, Pete, managed to creep up on Dakota’s dad as the man was dozing and dyed his hair green.

Dyed hair seems to be a running theme in the family.

Then in revenge, her dad put blue food dye in Pete’s burger, so afterward Pete ran around with a blue tongue.

Yep. A theme alright. And the whole family sounds like a bunch of three-year-olds. I wish I’d been there to see it.

But I hear with only half an ear. My stomach is in knots. I’m upset, angry, sad, confused. Ash has turned my world upside down, but it keeps spinning out of orbit. He’s hot and then cold—making my body sing, making me feel cherished and protected, then vanishing into thin air and acting all distant and secretive.

What’s up with that?

What’s this club where he’s going tonight? The Bulldog. Why isn’t he telling me more? Why is he getting into fights again? I thought that was a thing of the past. I stood up for him against my mom, telling her he changed. He was so gentle with me, I never thought he’d be different with other people.

Curled up on my sofa, I draw trees and flowers, houses and streets. On top of them, I sketch a face frame by wild dark hair and a wolf’s eyes, wounded and yet fierce.

I drop my pencil and stare at Ash’s face.

This isn’t helping me understand. I need to discuss this with someone—what happened between me and Ash and how to handle it. Talking to Mom is out of the question; she already dislikes Ash. Dakota is great but I feel like our friendship still isn’t the kind where I can open up about things like this. I don’t have that many friends in this town yet. I left for a couple years and returned a stranger.

I certainly can’t talk about it to the guys. Dylan is great, but he’s a man. Plus, I know now he resents Ash for my sake. Add to that the fact he rarely seems to be around lately and...

That leaves Tessa. To be honest, she was the only option from the start. I want to tell her about Ash, and about my first time—how it hurt and was so amazing at the same time. There had been no blood. Should there be? I’m not sure.

I need advice on so many levels. I need my best friend.

I call her as evening falls. She sounds distracted, but tells me to meet her for a drink at Hawk’s Bar and Grill on State Street. Before she hangs up, a sob escapes her.

Worry fills me, making me forget about my own concerns. What’s wrong? Not bothering to change into nicer clothes or wear make-up, I pull on my coat and walk to the bar.

Tessa’s already waiting for me at a table, a beer bottle sitting in front of her. Green light spills from the overhead fixtures, and it makes her face look gaunt and kinda scary.

“Tess? What’s up?”

She lifts her beer and takes a long gulp. It’s then I notice more bottles next to her. Christ, how long has she been here, drinking?

“Hey...” Her voice slurs. “Audrey.”

I get a good look at her teary eyes and grip her arm. Suddenly my own concerns flee my head. “What happened?”

“You wanted to talk about...?”

“Forget about me. No rush. Something happened back at home, didn’t it?” I sit next to her. “Tell me.”

“Just the usual.”

“Can’t believe that. Look at you. What did your parents come up with this time?”

And the floodgates open. Tears mixed with mascara run down Tessa’s cheeks, leaving black tracks. “They want me to move to Chicago, study law and go out with Sean. Even after what he did to me, Aud! They just won’t believe me—about what happened with him, what I want, what I need. They spent every minute of the day telling me how bad my choices are and what I should be doing. And all the while Sean was there—as a guest! They sat him next to me, insisted we dance, insisted we go out...”

Christ. Nothing new there. Tessa’s parents are an overwhelming lot. Rich and powerful lawyers themselves, they want Tessa to copy their every movement, pursue a career she doesn’t give a damn about, marry a guy who hurt her, have a crappy marriage and sprout one point five kids like everyone in their circle.

They started the cycle with her older sister, Mary, but Mary moved away and cut all contact with the family as soon as she turned eighteen. The focus naturally shifted to Tessa who, if anything, is more of a rebel than her sister.

But too much pressure can break anyone. Worst of all, Tessa loves her family, and I’m sure they love her, too. They just can’t see past their own ideals and ambitions.

I ask for a Sprecher Dopple Bock and sip the slightly sour, fruity beer. Tessa has never told me in detail what happened with Sean, but what I know isn’t good.

“It’s so hard to keep arguing and resisting,” she whispers, clutching her beer. “It’d be so much easier to just give in, you know? Stop fighting it.”

“But you don’t want to be a lawyer. Or move to Chicago. And you most definitely don’t want to go out with Sean again.”

She shudders. “God, no. If I lay eyes on him in the next ten years it will be too soon.”

“What happened with him, Tess? Do you think you can tell me?”

She shakes her head. “Another time.”

She always says that.

I know she dated him a few years ago, back when were in high school and she spent the summer with her parents in Chicago.

He hurt her. Forced her, she once said, but I don’t know if that means he raped her or forced her to kiss or touch him.

Does it matter? Forcing is forcing, and I don’t want her around that guy. Or her family. I think she needs a break—but even if she changes her name and number, I can’t see how. They pay for her college tuition and her apartment, her car and clothes. Everything. They have the money.

But that’s not the point.

“Maybe you need to get a job,” I say, shredding the label on my beer bottle.

“Leave college?”

“No. Just a part time job, so you don’t have to depend so much on them.”

“They’ll have another fit.”

“So? They keep having fits anyway.”

That shocks a laugh out of her. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” Truth is, I’ve been thinking I should do the same. Mom is great, but this latest argument about Ash showed me she has too much control over me. I need a place of my own.

“Maybe you’re right.” She hiccups and wipes at her cheek, smearing it with mascara.

I snort and dig in my bag for a tissue. “Keep still one sec.” I clean her cheek. “There.”

“Thanks, Audrey.” She gives me a watery smile. “For listening.”

I sigh. “Well, it’s about time I pulled my head out of my ass.”

“Don’t say that.”

I sip my beer, smiling. “Yeah, well. You know what I mean. I haven’t been there much for you. But I want to.”

She reaches over the bar and squeezes my hand. “You’re here. That’s what counts.” She leans back. “And now your turn. Tell me what got your panties in a twist.”

Swallowing down my beer for courage, I tell Tess what happened between me and Ash.