If he were anyone else, maybe I’d give him a clap on the back but nah. Tonight, I’m out for the same kind of blood he is, and even if Violet is somewhere close by, I don’t plan on letting him take my win. It’ll be me who walks away with my chin held high while he mopes over his loss.
I screw my head on straight, force myself into a tunnel, and make him my only priority. I envision my fist sailing through the air until it knocks every last thought out of his pea-sized brain. And then after that, I visualize his limp body spread out on the floor beneath me.
My attention turns to the crowd. So many faces stare back, cheek-splitting smiles on their faces as they whoop and holler. What I want to know is why Violet is one of them.
More importantly, I want to find her. Ineedto find her because no matter how permanent that line has become, she’smine to protect. Even if the person I’m protecting her from is me.
TWENTY-SEVEN
VIOLET
“You were supposedto stay out of sight,” Finn seethes, his unforgiving gaze narrowing on me. “At least until after the fight.”
I run my tongue over my teeth and pull his zip-up around me tighter. Even with all the body heat collecting inside, it’s still cold. Georgia’s December air has pushed its way underneath the doors and through the shattered windows on the floors above.
Finn runs a hand over his face, his features more disconcerting in the shadows. I learned when we were walking in that this is what merciless underground fighting looks like. Fighters and attendees meet at places like this, rundown and abandoned, so they can watch each other strip the life from one another. So they can see it leave the fighters’ eyes when they’ve fallen.
I picture the image of Colson on his knees again, and my heart stumbles. His eyes landed on mine, and recognition like I’ve never seen washed over his beautiful crestfallen face. It was like time stood still for him but not his opponent, who took advantage of Colson’s misstep. My body riots at the memory of the hit he took, guilt skirting through my veins like a go cart. All because of me.
Finn is lucky he was quick to yank me away by the wrist. I would have run to Colson. I would have wrapped my arms around him and held him up. I would have told him that he can come back from whatever this is. That there’s still hope. That I don’t care if he’s doing something I hate.
“What did you expect was going to happen?” I huff, ripping my arm free from his grasp. “You brought me here.”
“I know that, but we had a plan before we walked in,” Finn reminds me, and yeah, maybe we did. We agreed that we’d watch the fights, then after Colson was finished, we’d track him back to his car. Finn didn’t want to spook him by showing our faces too soon.
Little too late for that.
“You can’t blame me for not knowing what I was walking into.”
“I warned you, or did you forget about that?”
“You didn’t exactly tell me how brutal it would be.”
“You think that was tough?” Finn questions, irritation laced through every one of his words. “That was nothing compared to some of the fights I’ve seen.”
I roll my eyes. “What are we supposed to do now that he saw me?”
Finn glances over his shoulder. We’re backed in a corner but still in a throng of people who are ready for the next fight. It’s hard to focus on them when all I can see is the blood dripping down Colson’s face and the bruising that embellished the side of it in the snap of a finger.
God.
That must’ve hurt.
Hemust hurt.
In so many ways.
He’s so deep in his pain, in his grief, that he can’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. He can’t see that hecancome outof this, and he can’t possibly know where to put those feelings, otherwise he wouldn’t be here. In this frigid and dirty building, getting the literal shit kicked out of him.
Finn grabs my bicep. He’s not exactly gentle but not rough, either. I follow behind as he pushes through people who move out of the way without a problem. They’re apparently used to being strapped into a tight space with a million other people. A little shoving isn’t new to them.
We stay close to the wall and when there’s a bend in it, we follow that, too, my hand always close enough to skim the wall. Eventually, we find a set of double doors and push through them. The chaos behind us quiets some, but I can still hear the chants of the crowd.
Fuck him up!
Fuck him up!
Fuck him up!
