They don't know what I know. That it comes at a cost much steeper than bruises and broken bones. It costs pieces of your soul.
And I won’t let them pay what I paid. Not while I’m still breathing.
The wind cuts like glass through the open streets, my helmet amplifying every gust, every passing sound. I keep my eyes forward, scanning every shadow, every alley, anywhere Amber might go but I’ve ridden circles through this city and haven’t found her anywhere.
Something sharp tugs at my chest. My mind keeps drifting back to that night, back to Amber, back to Dante’s voice, his face, the way his words cut clean under my skin.
By the time I roll back into the Royal Harlots lot, my fingers ache from how tight I’ve been gripping the bars.
I strip off my helmet and hook it on the handlebars. My body’s still tense with the need to fight. My hands curl into fists just thinking about Dante’s voice, that slow, smug calm like he’s got the whole world figured out and I’m just late to the party.
I kill the engine and sit for a second, just breathing in the salty bite of the evening air. Trying not to let the burn turn into something worse. Something I can’t walk back.
I swing off the bike and give her a light tap, thankful for the power she gives me. It’s not always a replacement but it's damn close.
As I stalk toward the clubhouse, I catch a glimpse of the light above the gym door flickering weakly. Another thing on the list to fix. At least that's an easy one.
A low-burning fuse curls through my chest, heat building with nowhere to go. I move toward it. The motion sensor clicks on. Floodlights spill over the cracked pavement and old brick facade. The door into the gym is open.
That’s a problem. It’s after dark. Lights are off except for the red glow of the “CLOSED” sign in the window.
I step inside and sweep the floor with a glance. Habitual. Quiet. Tense.
Someone’s in the ring. Not fighting. Just sitting there, shoulders hunched, head hung, hands clenched tight on their knees, hoodie pulled over their head. Eyes rimmed with red look up meeting mine as I approach.
I pause mid-stride letting out a heavy breath when I realize it's Devyn.
“You shouldn’t be in here after close,” I say.
“Sorry.” is all she says. She sniffles, wiping her face on her sleeve. “Is Amber alright?”
“I hope so.” I crouch down beside the ring, resting my elbows on the apron. “I couldn’t find her but Dante said she won.This time.”
Devyn looks down at her hands. “I… I don’t think she went there on her own.”
“What do you mean?” I ask carefully.
Devyn bites her lip. “A few days ago, she told me she thought someone was watching her.”
That gets a reaction. My mouth tightens.
“I think they threatened her. Forced her into that fight.”
My jaw tightens.“Why would someone do that?”
She shrugs her shoulders, “I don’t know.”
I swear under my breath.
“And you’re just saying something now?” I ask, harsher than I mean too.
Devyn flinches. “She said it was nothing. She didn’t want to tell anyone.”
I meet her eyes. She stares for a second. Then her lip trembles again.
“I feel like I’m waiting for something bad to happen all the time.”
I nod slowly. “Because it already did. And now your body’s waiting for the next hit.”
