Chapter 28
In the Ring
CALLIE
I’ve been avoiding fight clubs for years, but now I find myself heading to one for the second time in a week. Dad would be so proud.
Wes grips my hand and leads me down street after street, following his brother.
New York City is overwhelming. So many people, neighborhoods, cars, buses, everything.
I’ve only been a handful of times, and each time, it reminds me of how much I love the rugged beauty of Maine.
And Portland. It’s an actual city, but also quiet and cozy with a small-town feel.
You can try to get lost in Portland, but it’s more likely to feel like home.
Each turn leads us to a darker spot than the next. A fight club isn’t going to be on a well-lit road with lots of people and a bright neon sign above the entrance. Still, I don’t love descending into the bowels of this city.
“You okay, Calliope?” Wes murmurs, squeezing my hand.
I nod, trying not to think about the fact that I’ll likely be face-to-face with Shane tonight.
That he’ll be expecting me. Us. I might get him to sign the divorce papers that are tucked inside my jacket.
I might be able to get my mother’s ring back.
I look up at Wes and take in his sharp jawline, thick dark hair, and light blue eyes that meet mine.
“I’m nervous,” I admit, squeezing his hand back. “They’re going to know we’re coming.”
Wes stops in the middle of the empty sidewalk, leans down to cup my jaw with his free hand, and stares deeply into my eyes.
“Yes. For sure.” He brings our mouths together with such tenderness that my insides squeeze. “I got you, Callie. You’re with me and Noah. You have nothing to worry about.”
I think I’m falling for this man.
I can feel it just like I can feel the late winter wind blow around us. Like I feel his hands on my face, his lips on mine. It should be just sex. A distraction while I finish up my life in Portland, just like I told myself last weekend.
But instead, it feels out of control.
I didn’t stop thinking about him all week.
When he showed up to walk me home from Lola’s bookstore, the relief and joy I felt when I laid my eyes on his face were too much.
I missed him, and it had only been two days.
His smile, his touch, his voice. I wanted to invite him into the apartment so badly.
Who cares that Jake was home? They met in Boston already. Fuck Jake.
But I couldn’t. I can’t let him into my heart any more than he’s already there. I can’t let myself fall completely for Wes. It just doesn’t work with the vision I have for my life going forward.
I need to stop this before it goes too far.
But when he kisses me—like he does now—my body aches for him. When he makes me laugh and feel safe, all I want to do is be with him. I want more.
It’s getting very confusing.
“Come on, Wes,” Noah calls, and Wes breaks the kiss. “Down here.” Noah’s stopped at the entrance to an alley. He waves his hand, and we follow him into the darkness.
There’s nothing until halfway down, then we stop at an unmarked steel double door with a dim light above. Noah knocks, and the door cracks open.
I give a quick glance to the bouncer who’s holding the door for us and take in a sharp breath. He’s big, like the guy in Boston, but looks like a fighter. Split lip, black eye, crooked nose. Rougher. Meaner. Like he’d punch someone for looking at him funny.
This place feels so much worse than the fight club in Boston.
Maybe because I know Shane’s inside.
Noah talks to the bouncer in a low voice and hands him money.
Then we head through another set of double doors.
Once down the cold, dimly lit hallway, there are echoes of angry, excited shouts and cheers.
I follow the men down a few concrete steps into what feels like a basement, the air damp and charged, the room filled with people.
A crowd of men and the occasional woman are packed deep around the ring.
They’re screaming and shouting and waving their fists in the air at the pair of men fighting in the center of the room on a raised platform.
The room is easily three times as big as the Boston fight club and even louder.
No windows, only flickering wall sconces in cages and some overhead lights on high ceilings with exposed pipes.
“Don’t leave my side,” Wes says into my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck.
“Obviously not.” I shake my head. A pair of rough-looking men on the outskirts of the fight crowd give me a long stare until Wes turns his steely gaze at them.
They look away reluctantly, but I wouldn’t want to be caught alone in this place.
I’m not looking for a repeat of what happened in Boston when Jones shoved me into that bathroom.
There will be no sneaking away this time.
I turn into Wes and let him lay his arm over my shoulders. I wish we didn’t have to be here. I’d much rather spend the night tangled up naked with this man, not looking for Shane, who is still technically my husband.
Because that’s what Shane still is. I give my head a little shake and look around at the messy hordes of people. I’m not sure how we’re going to find anybody.
Noah disappears into the crowd, and we follow the place where he got swallowed up by people.
“Keep an eye out,” Wes says. “We’ve seen pictures of Shane, but you’ll recognize him faster.” Wes’s eyes are darting all around us. He’s on high alert.
I scan the room. There’s a lot of drunk, angry-looking men.
Tattoos. Sweat. Danger. No one I recognize.
I start to lose faith—what did we think was going to happen here?
We would walk in and Shane would be waiting to sign with a fresh pen and my ring in a pretty little box? There’s no way this is that easy.
Wes tugs my hand and nods. Noah’s talking to a man who looks sober and like he might work here. The man is shaking his head, and I hear him say I don’t know as we walk up.
That’s when I see the woman standing next to him. It takes my brain a few for the recognition to process. She’s watching the fight with a hungry smile on her face. Tall and thin and blonde, pretty, with heavy eye makeup and bright red lipstick.
I haven’t seen her in so long. And here? Why is she here?
A pang of regret stabs me in the belly, and as if she feels my stare, the woman finally looks at me.
“Holy shit!” Her face morphs into joyful surprise, and my half-sister leaps across the group and throws her arms around my neck.
“Meadow,” I say with a laugh. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?”
“Working.” Meadow takes a step back and smirks, letting her hands slide down my arms. I can sense Wes shifting on his feet next to me, watching our interaction carefully.
“Here?” I study her face and gnaw at my lower lip.
Dad never let Meadow work for him. It was almost insulting that he gave me shit for not wanting to work at a fight club, but Meadow was forbidden from doing so.
As if he were trying to protect her, but he’d given up on me.
Maybe he just wanted to keep his two lives separate.
Meadow was the result of an affair my father had when I was a baby, and he kept her away from us.
My mom knew all along. And in high school, Jake and I found out.
Meadow and I hardly know each other. She got a third of Dad’s estate, and I saw her from a distance at the funeral, but she fled before we talked. Her being here now feels bizarre. Sure, our father is dead, so she can do what she wants, but still. She’s here, working in the same place as Shane.
Shane, who was furious about me not wanting to share my inheritance.
“Yeah, only for a few weeks so far. And you’re finally here!” Her eyes flit to Wes as I process her words. She examines him with open curiosity. “Who are you?”
Wait—did she say finally here?
“Meadow, this is Wes, and this is Noah.” I gesture toward the brothers, my line of thinking interrupted. Meadow looks at me expectantly, maybe waiting for more of an explanation. I’m not gonna give it to her. The guy Noah was talking to slinks away, and both men watch his departure.
“Nice to meet you.” She nods at Wes, her gaze shifting to our connected hands, her forehead crinkling. “Hmm.” Then her gaze settles on Noah, and an interested smile lands on her face.
Noah looks grumpy and impatient, his arms crossed, his foot tapping the ground. But he’s staring at Meadow intently.
“What’s your problem?” Meadow says to him with an open smile, and I almost laugh out loud.
“I don’t have a problem.” Noah narrows his eyes at her, then pushes his glasses up his nose with obvious annoyance.
“You’d be cuter if you smiled.” Meadow cocks her head at Noah. Wes snorts, and I chuckle. Meadow grins at us, seeming to be pleased at our reaction.
“What the fuck?” Noah says, glaring at us. “Who is she again?”
“My half-sister.” I don’t think he really needed me to remind him, but I play along.
“Do you need a drink?” She steps forward and slips her hand on Noah’s forearm, like she’s going to lead him away.
Noah stares at her hand like it’s a cockroach.
His expression is annoyed with a side of deep confusion, but I don’t miss the way his eyes scan her head to toe, and he doesn’t pull away.
She’s looking super-hot with a cropped tank showing off her generous, perky breasts and toned belly, and a short skirt that bares much of her legs.
Not sure how she survives in this place.
I left my scandalous outfit at home and am wearing a high-necked tank top, jeans, and sneakers.
“No.” Noah shakes his head and adjusts his glasses again. Is he nervous? Or annoyed? I’ve not seen Noah so flustered.
“Fuck, I love a hot nerd,” she says, and his eyes widen.
“Have you seen Shane?” I blurt out. As fascinating as her interaction with Noah is, we’re here for a reason. And the sooner we get out of this awful place, the better.
“Yeah, of course.” Meadow looks back at me curiously.
“You say that like I should know. I’ve been looking for him for six weeks.” I hadn’t even thought to check with Meadow. Why would I have? Or… why didn’t I?
She blinks in surprise. “Really? He said he was getting everything set up for you here, and you’d move down soon.” She looks at my and Wes’s hands again.
Ah. Now the you’re finally here comment makes more sense. Another one of Shane’s lies.
Wes growls next to me, pulling me closer against him.
“But you appear to not be in on that plan?” Now Meadow scans Wes slowly up and down, thoroughly but not creepily. “Well. This should be awkward.”
“Where is he?” Fucking Shane. A narcissistic liar who can’t even admit to people that I’m leaving him. What does he expect will happen here?
“I generally try to avoid him because he creeps me out.” Meadow covers her mouth. “Sorry, I know he’s your, uh, husband?”
“Not for long.” I shake my head so hard it hurts. “I’m divorcing him, and he’s avoiding me. I need him to sign the papers.”
“Oh, fuck, really?” She breathes out. “Good for you. He’s the one who found me at the bar I used to work at across town and offered me a job here. I was excited because I love fight clubs,” she says, a dreamy look on her face. “But I’m glad I don’t work for him.”
“You love it here?”
“Yeah. For sure.” Meadow looks around and waves her hands, as if that explains why she likes this disgusting cesspool. “I feel fucking alive.”
“Okay. That’s… a lot to process.”
“Oh. There he is.” Meadow points at the ring.
And just as I look up, Shane walks into the ring to fight. A little whimper escapes my throat. He looks huge up there on the raised platform. Tall and wider than last time I saw him. He’s got a mouth guard in and jumps from foot to foot, punching the air. Cheers sound from the audience.
“Fuck,” I whisper. I’ve never wanted to run away from a place more. But I can’t. Not now, not when he’s right there.
Wes squeezes my hand, but I can’t bring myself to turn away from Shane. His competitor ducks into the ring, and the referee shouts to start the fight.