“I’m not going to tell him.” My chest tightens and I crumple the empty chip bag in my fist. “I’m not telling anyone ever again. That’s over. Done. I’m going to be normal if it kills me.”

My phone buzzes, and I fumble around until I find it on the kitchen island, then check the text messages.

“Who is it?”

“Rampage.” My lips quiver when I read the text. “He’s at Redemption. He says the Predator’s there. He’s all chuffed that the Predator had him track me down because he feels like the go-to man at Redemption. He said the Predator threatened to bounce him around the ring if he didn’t find me and make sure I was okay because I wasn’t answering my phone.”

Jess stretches out on the couch again and crosses her legs. “Isn’t Rampage a super heavyweight? Why would he even be worried about the Predator’s threats? He could probably just sit on him to quiet him down.”

“He’s the Predator. You’ve seen him fight. Rampage wouldn’t stand a chance. He’s big but he’s slow.”

My phone buzzes again. Rampage says now that he knows I’m okay, everyone is heading over to Renegade and Amanda’s place for a party. Since I have the day off, I should come and bring Jess too.

Jess and I debate the merits of going to the party. She wants to see Tag. No, she doesn’t want to see Tag. She wants to see Blade Saw. No, she doesn’t want to see Blade Saw because now she’s thinking of breaking up with him for Tag. But what if Tag doesn’t really want her? She’ll have no one. Or worse, what if they both want her and get into a fight? She licks her lips. That would be pretty awesome to watch. Okay, she’ll come.

But I’m not sure if I’m going. What if Doctor Death is there? What if Ray is there? How will I explain why I just left him with a quick “good night” out on the street after he dropped me off? And what will I say when he asks why I didn’t answer his calls? And what if he wants to talk about last night? What will I say? Normal people don’t have an emotional crisis after hot sex. Normal people don’t suddenly worry they’ve misplaced their trust.

Jess drags me into my bedroom and paws through my neatly organized closet. What if, she says, he’s not the kind of guy to push? What if he just smiles and says hi and offers me a cooler, and we chill at the party and have a good time?

* * *

Two hours later, Jess and I are drinking coolers in the backyard of Renegade and Amanda’s house. Renegade is manning the barbecue. Makayla and Amanda are chatting with Hammer Fist, and Torment is glowering by the fence, no doubt keeping the nonexistent predators away from his woman. Rampage has gathered a group of newbie fighters around him to share stories about Redemption when it was a gritty, underground fight club, and deliciously dark and ripped Obsidian is trying to out arm lift Shayla on a tree branch.

“See? We had nothing to worry about.” Jess clinks bottles with me. “No Tag. No Blade Saw. No Doctor Death. No Predator. Although it’s kind of a waste that we’re all dressed up and the men who would appreciate us aren’t around to…well, appreciate us. Maybe we shouldn’t have worn skirts and heels.”

“Jinx.”

Jess widens her eyes. “Who’s here?”

“Blade Saw. He’s spotted you and he’s smiling a humongous smile.”

Jess glares and turns away. “If you need me, I’ll be hiding in the crowd with Rampage’s minions.”

“Hey, kitten.” Obsidian gives me a warm smile when I join him by the oak tree. Shayla is in the middle of a set of pull-ups, her ripped body glistening with sweat, yet she still manages to nod a greeting.

“So who’s winning?” I sip my cooler and Obsidian lifts an eyebrow.

“Me.”

“Not. For. Much. Fucking. Longer.” Shayla grunts out each word as her body moves smoothly up and down, her elbows operating like well-oiled hinges.

“You want to go next?” Obsidian squeezes my bicep between his thumb and forefinger. “Looks like you’ve got a bit of strength and she’s already slowing down.”

Shayla spits out a curse and increases her pace.

“I don’t think I could even do one. Plus I’m wearing a skirt and heels. Not optimal attire for pull-ups.”

“Hand.” The barked command from across the yard startles Obsidian. He jerks back, ripping his hand off my arm so quickly he loses his balance and steps back into Shayla, knocking her off the tree. Shayla is on her feet in two seconds and battering at Obsidian in three.

“You did that on purpose. I was almost at one hundred. You knew I would win.”

Someone yells fight. Someone else cheers. I am almost crushed in the stampede of excited fighters, saved only by a firm arm around my waist and an even firmer body protecting me from the excited horde.

“That was you?” I look up as Ray leads me to the safety of the patio. “You yelled ‘hand’?”

“He had his hand on you,” Ray says, unsmiling.

“He was just joking around.” I wave at the crowd, now three deep around the tree. “Look what you did.”

Ray scowls in Obsidian’s direction. “He knows better. Would have dealt with him, but Shayla beat me to it.”

And she is doing a good job too. Obsidian is already on the grass and Shayla is trying to twist him into a painful submission while everyone shouts encouragement.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I lean against the low, stone retaining wall. “I think it was a little OTT. I mean, it’s not like we’re…you know…together.” I suck in my lips and look away.