I swipe open my phone and hand it to him. “Don’t make plans for Friday night.”
The color on his face drains the same way mine did when he reads the message.
“Is this…” I nod. “Shit. I thought they forgot about us. It’s been weeks since that night.”
“They never forget anything. Especially not something they’re owed.”
He runs his fingers through his hair and exhales. “What if we just don’t answer them? What are they really going to do?”
My eyebrows furrow. “Have you lost your mind? That would get us fucking killed. These guys don’t mess around, Hayworth. You’re not in the place to act like a badass anymore.” If I stay here any longer, I’ll end up taking my shit out on the wrong person. So, I take a step back. “I’ll text you where to meet on Friday. We’ll go together so I can be sure your pansy ass shows.”
Getting into Zayn’s car, I’m still seething. The only reason I’m in this fucking mess is because of his overprotective ass. He just had to go all knight in shining armor for his girlfriend and take it way too damn far. Now, he’s risking my life by having shitty ideas like “let’s ignore them.” He has no idea the kind of game he’s involved in now. This isn’t petty high school bullshit. We’re playing with the big boys now.
“Everything all right?” Zayn asks, sensing my anger.
“Peachy,” I murmur. “Just fucking drive.”
He gives me a knowing look and nods once. “I’ll call Garret and have you put in the lineup for tonight.”
And that’s why he’s my bes
t friend. He can always sense exactly what I need and knows how to get it for me.
THE UNDERGROUND WAREHOUSE IS packed, with the noise of the crowd only hyping me up. Two brawlers in the ring throw punch after punch. Their blood is all over the place, making it look more like a murder scene than anything. However, despite how brutal it is, neither of them rest for even a second until that final bell dings and the winner is announced.
My favorite thing about these fights is that everyone who steps into the ring is here for a purpose. Frustration they need to take out. Money they need to win. A reputation they need to uphold. It’s always something that brings them here, and no one says a damn word.
“You ready?” Zayn hands me my water bottle as I swing under the rope and inside the ring.
I smirk. “Aren’t I always?”
2
DELANEY
All’s fair in love and war, or at least that’s what they say anyway. Personally, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I’m probably the only seventeen-year-old left in this town who hasn’t had a boyfriend, let alone lost their virginity. It’s not that I’m trying to avoid boys, or unsure of my sexuality, for that matter. I’ve just never found someone who makes it hard for me to focus on anything else. Because that’s how it should be, isn’t it?
Maybe I’ve read too many romance novels and have a false expectation for the reality of dating. I mean, for the sake of being honest, it’s not like the over-the-top declarations of love actually happen—except for in my best friend Savannah’s case. Her boyfriend, Grayson, really messed up before realizing his mistakes, and she made him grovel for his redemption .
Unfortunately, I’m not nearly as confident as she is. Somehow, while sharing a womb with my twin sister, Tessa, I ended up with all the angelic qualities like book-smarts and a moral compass. Tess, on the other hand, got the better personality. She’s outgoing, spontaneous, and absolutely wild. There are times that I wish I could be more like her… until she comes home in the middle of the night sporting a massive hickey, and I have to listen to our father scream at her until sunrise. Let’s just say he isn’t the biggest fan of her current boyfriend.
I’ve always been destined to be the innocent one. The one who never gets into any trouble. To say I’ve lived up to that expectation would be an understatement. I’m in the running for valedictorian. I get perfect grades. I’ve already been accepted to four different Ivy League universities. Anyone looking at my life from the outside would probably say it’s perfect, but they’d be wrong. Sometimes, I’m just itching to get out of my own skin. To be able to let loose for once. To not care what I’m doing wrong or how I could be doing better.
Writing poetry has become a secret hobby of mine—a way to let out all my pent-up emotions without doing something I may regret. I keep all my thoughts inside a leather journal, hidden away from the world. For my eyes only. Despite how much I trust my sister and my best friend, I don’t think they’d ever understand this feeling.
My bedroom door flies open, and Tessa comes in without a care in the world for my privacy. She throws herself down onto my bed and sighs.
“What if I was naked or something?” I ask.
She chuckles and rolls her eyes. “We’re twins, idiot. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Fraternal twins, and that’s not how that works.”
Flipping over onto her stomach, she ignores my comment completely. “What are the plans for our birthday?”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, like, are we being forced to go to some swanky restaurant for family dinner? Are Mom and Dad throwing us a party with all their friends and none of our own? What are the plans?”