It barely comes out of mine. I haven’t seen him since Marcus Montgomery’s funeral, and from what Juliette says, she hasn’t, either. It’s like he’s disappeared entirely.
“If he’d quit trying to take his sister from me, none of this would have happened.”
I let out a hollow laugh and rub the scruff of my jaw. “Yeah, Benny. Whatever you say.”
Benny turns to leave, but pauses at the door, glancing backover his shoulder. “Almost forgot. I brought Percy down tonight, told him to watch and learn.”
My stomach sours. “He doesn’t need to see this.”
“How else is he gonna know what’s coming?”
I don’t reply, because he’s right.
When I step into the hallway a few minutes later, Percy’s there, trying to look casual.
“Go home.”
“Can’t.” He pushes off the wall, falling into step beside me. “They want me here.”
I turn to face him. “You should be worrying about college or getting laid or whatever kids your age worry about, not standing down here taking notes.”
“Come on, Excalibur. We both know I don’t have a choice.”
Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Sorry. I just… That’s what they call you at the other spots.”
My hand falls from my face and the tunnel shrinks. “What do you mean ‘other spots’? They’re taking you to other locations?”
He grips the back of his neck and shifts on his feet. “Yeah. They took me to a pop-up out in Brooklyn two nights ago. They didn’t tell you?”
It’s cute he thinks they’d tell me. I’m chopped liver in this system, the same as him.
“Who’sthey?”
Cheering bounces off the walls, and Benny shows up at the entrance to the pit, tapping his watch.
I grip Percy’s shoulder. “When it gets bad, you look away. You hear me?”
He nods, but I know he won’t.
“Go.”
Percy hesitates like he wants to say something else but then spins around and disappears down the tunnel.
The walk from the back rooms to the pit is maybe fifty feet, but it feels like miles.
The crowd noise builds with every step, a low, eager rumble. The Lye is packed tonight, every seat filled, standing room occupied by men who couldn’t get a spot but paid enough to be let in anyway.
I keep my eyes forward. I don’t want to see the hunger on their faces.
If I think of them as human—as fathers and husbands who go home after this and kiss their kids good night—I’ll lose my mind.
So I don’t think. I just walk.
I step through the gate, and it clangs shut behind me.
The crowd roars.
