THIRTY-TWO
I stayed back to help clean up the mess that Kayden and Jax had left behind at the estate house, offering to pay for any repairs since the brawl that took place was partially my fault.
The management wasn’t pleased with us but accepted my offer anyway, told me to expect the bill in the next few days, and then proceeded to kick us out of the place to do the rest of the cleaning up themselves.
Dad was livid with me and Beth for what had occurred, considering that the men who had cut short their lovely wedding reception were our boyfriends. After yelling at us for a good half an hour, he went to search for Jax to give him a piece of his mind, only to find that Jax had conveniently disappeared as well.
Seeing as my only source of transport has already left, I opt to take a cab back to the apartment instead. When I arrive home, it’s past midnight, and I drag myself to my room, feeling the weight of exhaustion accumulated from today finally crash down on me. Kayden and I had a standing date to share my bedroom tonight, but any plans to sleep in his arms fall right through when I hear light snoring floating from his room.
Instead, I drop onto the bed and bury my face in the palms of my hands. How did we get here? Just hours ago we were good. We were happy. And now I don’t even know what we are.
I don’t know what awaits us tomorrow. I’m still going to attend the finals. I still want to see Kayden fight. I’m still going to support him no matter what.
Even if he might not want me there.
And even if he despises me.
A fighter never concedes, not even at her lowest point.
***
The most anticipated fight of the season is being held at an abandoned prison camp. Breaking Point sure has a flair for the dramatic, opting to hold the finals in the creepiest of places. I step out of the cab and onto the grounds, suppressing a cold shudder as I pass the graffiti-covered concrete walls and rusted bits of rebar sticking out of the collapsed structure. It doesn’t help that the gloominess settling over the sky drops the temperature to one of our coldest nights this spring.
The place is located deep in the forest, shrouded in so much greenery and darkness that I wouldn’t have been able to make it there were it not for the trail of people preceding me. I shoot a text to Brent, telling them find a good spot to catch the fight, and wander around the premises looking for Kayden.
I haven’t seen him all day. He wasn’t in the apartment when I woke up, leaving me to catch a ride here by myself.
I stride toward the solitary confinement cells where I have a feeling Kayden is holed up in, preparing for the fight.
I peep inside to find a pair of strong legs dangling from the collapsed concrete roof and haul myself up so I can sit beside him.
My breath stalls in my throat when I look at Kayden. He’s a looming, menacing presence—long, sleek body already decked out in his signature red robe, his hands patching up the scrapes on his calloused skin from yesterday’s brawl with a pair of dirty boxing wraps. But something’s off about him.
He’s wrecked with exhaustion, despite him getting home early yesterday. His eyes are hollow and the air around him feels strained and rigid.
“Hey,” I say, my stomach a stirring pot of shimmering nerves. Only Kayden has the ability to make me this anxious.
Kayden glances over at me, gaze boring into mine, as if he has been expecting my visit.
But he doesn’t say anything to me.
I feel the familiar burn of disappointment scorch my chest at his coldness. I guess I should have expected this reaction given how poorly I treated him yesterday. It just feels strange that he’s like this. It wasn’t even that long ago that we were all over each other, and I already miss us.
“Julian’s in the crowd. With Brent and Evans,” I say, feeling compelled to slice through the awkwardness. “Said he didn’t want to miss this fight.”
“That’s nice of him.”
Then, silence. The only sounds are from the faint rustling of leaves from the trees and the distant cheers of the crowd getting riled up for the fight to begin. From what I can hear already, it’s the biggest crowd of the season. All of them waiting to see who’s going to emerge victorious tonight.
Deadbeat vs. Killer. Veteran champion vs. trained underdog.
I fiddle nervously with my hands, waiting for Kayden to say something. Anything. But he just leans into the silence, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as well. I want to know what he’s thinking about. Is he thinking about the upcoming fight? Is he thinking about me and what’s going on between us?
I’m not going to let us end like this. We’ve barely even begun.
“Look, I’m really sorry about yesterday. And how things ended,” I say quietly. “I don’t exactly know where we stand right now.”
His gaze slides to me. Stare pinning me down.