I blink at him.
“I only work with men who take this seriously. Men who want to be in the circle, fighting for their right at a prize at the end of the night. Doesn’t matter what their reason is for showing up. If you can’t find it in yourself to man up and take a fucking beating when it’s to the benefit of me, well then, you can buy yourself out of the predicament you’re in. Call it insurance, if you will. A guarantee that if you do walk, you won’t talk, and I won’t, either. Ten grand ensures I won’t have to track you down to make sure you don’t spill the beans on my profits. Or my fighters.”
I get the sudden urge to ask if he’s ever been the one fighting or if he’s always pitted guys against each other to be ripped down and beaten. But what does it matter? I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. I’ll gladly come back and keep fighting if it means it’ll put him in his place. If it’ll have him eating all these words and admitting his wrongs.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I’ll just remember that I can’t trust him and bring my A-game every damn night. That way, if he puts me up against someone in a higher weight class again, he’ll be the one who's surprised.
“Then I guess that settles this.”
I dip my chin down, and he twists on his heel. He climbs into the back of his Cadillac. It purrs to life, then speeds out of the parking garage. I glance around and note I’m the last one left. A discomfort rushes down my spine. I want Tommy to regret what he said tonight, and I know the only way I can do that is prove myself more than I already have, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about him trying to pull a fast one on me.
I’ve worked with Finn in the past. I know what it looks like when someone is greedy for money and power. I also know what it looks like when someone will manipulate a person to get whatever it is they want. If and when the day comes when I dowant an out, I’m not paying him shit. He can consider my wins as payment enough.
I shoulder my bag after his taillights fade into the night and begin my trek toward my car. It’s a two-block walk, and when I get there, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a repeat text from Sebastian. He invited me to some New Year’s Eve party they’re having at the apartment. I initially told him I wasn’t going to make it, but as I stare down at the picture he sent of him, Tristan, and Webber, I can’t help but wonder if she’s there.
I also can’t help but be annoyed at this game we’re playing. I know it’s mostly on me. I’m the one that called her last night. I’m also the one who hung up on her. It was uncalled for, a total dick move.
But I reached the threshold. The spot in our conversation where I needed to put distance there. As time goes on, I miss her more and more. And the more I miss her, the more I want her. And the more I want her, the more I wonder if I should be out fighting for Tommy and ignoring my problems at all.
Because if I have Violet, I’ll have to face everything.
And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.
THIRTY-FIVE
COLSON
I don’t makeit in time for the ball to drop. It’s ten minutes after midnight. I wanted to stop at the house and get a fresh change of clothes. I also grabbed a quick shower. As I enter the apartment main entrance, it’s quiet. I ride the elevator up to Sebastian’s floor. It’s weird to think that I spent months living in this building. In a way, I guess I still kind of do. I never moved my stuff out after Mom passed, and this is the first time I’ve been back since.
I make it to the apartment door and use my key to unlock it. Surprisingly, there’s no music playing. I expected to walk into a full-on rager with red Solo cups littering the floor, liquor bottles spaced out over the countertops.
It’s dark, too. Most of the lights are off, so I use my phone to light the foyer. I check the kitchen first and note about ten pizza boxes. I brush it off and head to the living room. Giggling sounds from somewhere, but I can’t make out where.
Someone grabs my shoulders from behind and spins around me. I’m ready to let out a, “What the fuck?”but then my cousin starts whispering, “You made it, but you’re late.”
My face twists in annoyance. “Why are you whispering?”
“We’re playing hook and seek. I’m it and don’t want people to know I’m close to blowing their cover,” he explains. It makes no fucking sense to me.
I feel my eyebrows wrinkle in question. “What the hell is hook and seek?”
“A tradition.” I hear the grin in his voice.
“You gonna explain?”
“Okay, so. It’s sort of like hide and seek. Everyone hides and then the seeker obviously has to find them, but the first person who gets found has to make out with the seeker for thirty seconds. But,” he holds up a finger I can barely see and pushes the button on the side of my phone. It goes dark. “It has to be pitch black. You’re not supposed to know who it is you’re kissing. You can’t talk, either.”
I scratch the side of my head. “You realize how juvenile that sounds, right?”
“Yeah, it is, but it’s a thing around Chatham U. Starts freshman year if you’re lucky enough to get an invite to one, and if you are, you’re supposed to continue it until you graduate.”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“Barely anything. That’s one of the rules of the games. You can’t be wasted, but we all agreed to consent at the start of the game. It’s a requirement, or you sit out.” He slaps the back of his hand against my chest. “You in?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t expect to walk into this.”
