I know I should be scared. I know, deep down, that fear is the right response.
But something else takes root inside me instead.
Fury.
It starts low in my stomach, molten and ugly, then spreads like fire through my veins. Rage for the years I’ve swallowed it down. Rage for every time he made me feel small and weak. And now, when I’ve moved on, when all of my thoughts don’t revolve around him, he chooses to do this?
I’m not afraid, because unmasking the demon tormenting me makes him real again. And real, I can handle. Because Chase doesn’t scare me anymore.
And as if he heard the realization click, my phone pings.
Unknown number: How did you like my little gift?
Another chime.
Unknown number: Don’t worry.
And another.
Unknown number: I’m only getting started.
29
ASHTON
I’m notin my right mind going into this fight tonight.
Everything is fucked. I’m trying to suck it up, trying to paint a happy-go-lucky smile on my face, but nothing can distract me from how pissed off I am at Alec right now. I can’t even stand being in the same room as him, can’t look at him without wanting to kill him.
This morning, I caved and sent Sydney a text asking if I could see her, just to talk. I invited her to my fight again, hoping it would be low-stakes enough that maybe she’d agree to come and watch, and maybe we could chat after. My texts have all gone unanswered.
Still, there’s a chance she’ll show, right?
I scan the arena on my way to the locker room, looking for her, my eyes landing on every head of curly brown hair in the place. But I don’t see her. Even worse, I don’t see any of them.
No one is here to watch me tonight.
I’ve never had a fight where none of my brothers showed up to support me, but I get it. We’re not exactly chummy right now. It still hurts. Their not being here reminds me of how it felt every time I was sent to live with a new foster family. It never mattered if the family was kind, or rich, or loving, or anything. It was theloneliest fucking thing in the world to be taken away from them. I hated it, hated leaving my brothers behind.
For me, it was always all four of us together, or nothing. And I guess tonight, it’s nothing.
“Two-minute warning, champ,” my trainer, Zach, says, snapping me out of my reverie. He takes my hands to adjust my wraps, checking the tightness. “You good?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I murmur. I sure as fuck don’t mean it.
“Get your head together. This guy is undefeated this season.”
I scowl, shaking out my limbs and stretching my muscles. “He’s only had five fights. That’s not exactly an impressive record. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”
He gives me a skeptical look, but you know what? Fuck him.
I can do this. I will do this. I always do.
“Okay. Let’s get out there then.” Zach grabs my sweat towel and water bottle, leading me up to the arena.
The announcer’s voice booms, filling the building. The crowd is wild tonight. I haven’t fought in a while, and there’s a palpable excitement from the spectators at seeing me back in the ring. That’s what the crowd wants. They’re here to see me, to see what I can do. To see me win. That’s the reputation I built for myself over the years, even back in my days of underground fighting, before Dante. In my best years, no one could put up a real fight against me. And when I retired, I retired on top. That’s the way to do it, the only way to go out.
But every few months, I still like to jump back into the ring to remind them I’m not just a pretty face.
