“O—okay. He—he won’t do anything tonight, will he?”
“No. If he were, he would’ve done it already. So I think we’re in the clear.”
I nod into his shirt, pressing my cheek against his neck. I don’t know why I’m scent-marking him. It’s like an instinctual urge to reclaim this trailer as my territory. My safe space.
Or at least the closest thing I have to a safe space here.
“I—I guess I just have to get ready then,” I say, pulling back and shooting a wary glance at the pile of lingerie I have on my lap.
“The fucker is a disgusting pervert,” Rowan scowls, staring down at the scraps of lace like they’ve offended him.
I flinch at the intensity of his words.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to cause trouble or give him reason to take me away from you.”
“I hate it, but you’re probably right,” Rowan scowls. “I’ll find you something to wear on top of this. You shouldn’t have to be dragged around, practically naked, in the crowd that normally attends these events. But you should get ready.”
“Okay,” I say, offering Rowan a tight smile to get rid of the scowl that’s on his face.
He reaches up and cups my cheek, his expression still tight.
“Can—can I ask for one more favor?” I ask softly, averting my gaze to the floor.
“Anything, Sugar.”
“Can you kissme on the forehead again?”
This time, his expression softens when I find the courage to peek up at him through the curtain of my hair.
“Course I can,” he says before leaning in and pressing a kiss to my forehead.
I let myself soak in that moment of peace before I push myself up to get ready for tonight’s fight.
CHAPTER 27
Ash
“This place is a shithole,” Griffin grumbles after the fuckers transporting us from the truck and into the holding cell leave.
I lean my back against the cool metal bars. These transport cages are different from the ones they use on the farm. They’re bigger. Taller. We can stand up in these.
“Get used to it, new guy,” I snap halfheartedly, my ears straining to hear the noise outside of this room.
My skin is buzzing after the dose of the booster drug we were all given. I can feel it under my skin like a bunch of ants.
I’m not the only one the drug is affecting.
Rage has been pacing back and forth in his cage, taking a shuffling step forward before immediately turning around in the small space and taking another step. His muscles ripple with tension.
He’s surprisingly quiet, though. Normally, before his fights, he’s pissed enough to throw himself at the bars of his cage. They have to replace his cage every few months because they’re worried the damage he does to it will eventually make it break.
“How does this work, exactly?” Griffin asks.
“There’re two doors into this room,” I say, noddingat the metal door the transporters left from and then at the thick metal gate. “These cages unlock automatically, and that gate opens. There’s a long hallway, and you’re supposed to run out into the ring.”
“So ‘cause this is a group fight, our doors will all pop open at the same time?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I shrug. “Never done this before. Just a tip, new guy, make sure you run fast.”
