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Chapter 23

Skylar

“You sure you’re happy?”

I stare at Alex. I feel like we went through this, that I’m back at that diner telling him I care for Adrian.

I nod. “More than sure.” I smile. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He leans back on the park bench and stars at the bird eating the food that an old lady tossed onto the ground. Finally, after long seconds, he turns and faces me. The wind picks up and I shiver, but I keep my focus on him.

“As long as you’re happy I am too.” He looks at me then. “But I want you to know I’m here if you need me.”

I smile. “I know.”

He gives a sharp nod and looks back at the birds. “And you’re okay with his fighting?” he seems to ask on a side note.

“I mean the guys he goes up against are there willingly. He does what he does for his own reasons, and I can’t fault someone for that.”

“Yeah, that’s true.” Alex runs a hand over his hair, his expression conflicted, but I can also see he understands me, accepts what I want. When he looks at me, I smile, showing him I am okay, that I know what I want. “You really are happy,” he says, not making it a question.

“I am.”

He nods, wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulls me in close, and we sit there, the silence all we need for long moments. “Then that’s that.” He runs his hand over my arm and I smile.

Yeah, that’s that.

Adrian

The soundof the crowd always gets me worked up, has my blood thrumming through my veins, my heart racing like a freight train. The scent of sweat, blood … adrenaline that coats the air, has my very cells coming alive. The fighting not only pays my bills, it makes me feel alive. It gives me an outlet to get rid of the anger and darkness that’s inside of me, if only for a short time.

And then I think about Skylar. She helps me as well, more than she’ll ever know, maybe more than I’ll ever know.

I roll my head around on my neck, feeling the stress melt away and be replaced with anticipation. I am ready to draw some blood.

It is my past making itself known in all physical senses.

Skylar

“You sure about this?” Claire asks, her voice raised to be heard over the shouting crowd.

I take hold of her hand so we won’t get separated. The crowd is intense, and pushing through it is like wading through wet, thick sand. “I’m sure. We can handle it.” The fight tonight is in some abandoned warehouse. The scent of decay and age fill my nose, but I focus on other things. Adrian doesn’t know I am here. I overheard some students talking about it in my Economics class, and although I don’t even know if he’ll be here, I have to assume.

“I have some things to do tonight, but can I see you later, after?”

The words he’d said to me just hours ago replay through my head. I didn’t have to ask him to know what other plans he had. It is Friday … fight night.

We make it to the center of the room, and I can see everyone gathered around in a circle. There isn’t a ring, no cage, nothing that would deem this a fighting area. There will just be two guys going at it. I rise on my toes; see the fight that has just taken place, the guys who were bloody, beaten, but grinning. The ground within the circle is covered in splatters of red, like a crime scene, or maybe a violent piece of artwork.

“This is fucking crazy,” Claire shouts.

I nod. It is.

“You sure he’ll be here?”

I look over my shoulder at her and shake my head. “No,” I say.

“What?”

I lean in close and shout “No.” I don’t know if he’ll be here, and I have a feeling if he knew I was here, whether he was fighting tonight or not, he’d be angry. This can be a dangerous situation for a girl, even if she isn’t alone. The guys watching the fight outnumber the females. They are drunk, rowdy, and blood hungry. I keep getting pushed forward then backward, like a wave, trying to crash me to the surface as the sand swallows me.

The crowd starts getting wild—if that is even possible—and I rise on my toes again to see what’s happening. I see Adrian step into the center of the circle, shirtless, his body huge. He starts bouncing on the balls of his feet, rolling his head around on his neck, looking ready to kick someone’s ass.

The crowd parts again, and my heart falters as I see who the opponent is.

Holden.


Tags: Sam Crescent, Jenika Snow Erotic