Chapter 19. Ethan
The rec room buzzes with the usual chaos.
I lean against the wall next to Jack, arms crossed, pretending to listen to him describe some TV show.
My eyes keep drifting to the entrance. When Liam walks in, hair still damp from the showers, something in my chest clenches.
I force my gaze back to Jack. I'm not listening.
Normally, I wouldn't even be here. But I can't seem to stop tracking Liam's movements like some kind of psychopath.
"You're not even listening," Jack says, punching my shoulder. "What's going on with you?"
"Nothing. Admin stuff." The lie comes easily after days of practice. "Sorry. What were you saying about the zombie show?"
Jack launches back into his description.
I'm half-listening. From the corner of my eye, I track Liam.
Our eyes meet for a second. I can't believe I'm reckless enough to let him catch me staring.
He hesitates, one foot pointed in my direction.
I deliberately turn my body toward Jack. Making it clear.
When I look again, Liam has changed course. He's heading toward the far corner where Reed and his crew have claimed the best table.
My gut twists.
Reed sits on the table, legs spread, taking up as much space as possible, his friends on the benches around him like subjects at court. That predatory smirk. Mason is there too, the kid from the hallway. That's the connection. Liam befriended Mason, and Reed saw an opening.
Now he's got Liam.
"Hey, bro," Jack waves his hand in front of my face. "Seriously. What's with you today?"
"Nothing," I mutter.
Reed tells some story, hands gesturing wildly. Everyone hangs on every word. His voice carries across the room: "So I told the guard, 'You can write me up if you want, but we both know I can fuck your life up.'" Sharp laugh. Half the room turns to look.
Liam slides into an empty space at Reed's table. Reed's face lights up. He shifts to make room, leans in close, mouth near Liam's ear. Liam says something I can't hear, and the whole table erupts. Reed reaches out, arm around Liam's shoulder, letting it linger. Too close to his neck.
That smile on Liam's face. The one that used to be for me.
"Are you even breathing?" Jack snaps his fingers in front of my face.
I exhale. Didn't realize I'd been holding my breath. "Just noticed something."
"Yeah, no shit. You've been glaring through Reed's skull for five minutes." Jack knows Reed and I have history. Before I became a leader, we'd argue, fight, end up in detention together.
I look at the floor. "I wasn't glaring."
"Sure," Jack says. "And I'm the pope."
Reed's voice rises again. Some story about a fight he won against three guys at an MMA competition. Hands miming punches, face animated. Bullshit. But everyone eats it up.
Including Liam.
I watch him lean closer, body angled toward Reed, laughing at all the right moments. That eager attention. My fists curl at my sides.
"Ethan?" Jack says.
"What?" Too sharp.
"Oh. I get it now."
"Get what?"
Knowing look. "Nothing. Just interesting how you've been avoiding Liam all week and now you can't take your eyes off him."
"I'm not…" The protest dies as Reed leans in again. Mouth at Liam's ear.
My jaw tightens until the pressure builds in my temples. I force myself to look away. Breathe. Unclench.
"It's fine if Liam wants to hang out with Reed. He can make his own choices. I'm just concerned because Reed's a bad influence. I'm still his leader."
Jack raises an eyebrow. "Right. That's why you look like you're about to commit murder."
"I don't care who Liam hangs out with," I say, even as my eyes drift back. Reed is showing off a new tattoo on his forearm. Liam traces it with his fingertip.
I can't breathe.
"I should warn him about Reed. As his leader. It's my responsibility."
Jack grabs my arm. "Yeah, no. Bad idea. You've been ignoring him all week, and now you're going to march over and play protector? Pick a lane, man."
He's right. I hate it. I have no claim on Liam. I've made that clear with my own behavior. This feeling, this hot, sharp thing beneath my ribs, has no right to exist.
I chose this. I did this.
"You're right. Let's go outside. I need air."
I follow Jack toward the door. I don't look back. I tell myself it doesn't matter what Liam does or who he spends time with.
Outside, I try to focus on the sky. Stars. Cold air. Jack talks about MMA, training regimens, Muay Thai versus BJJ, favorite fighters. I manage maybe fifteen minutes without thinking about Reed and Liam.
Then I see them.
Darker corner of the courtyard. Too close to each other.
"Griff wants us focusing more on endurance," I say. The words come out distant, automatic. My attention is locked on them.
Reed leans against the brick wall, one foot propped behind him.
Liam stands in front of him, closer than necessary, back to me.
That restless energy in his movements as he talks.
Reed eating it up. At least a head taller than Liam, bigger, bulkier.
Sleeveless shirt he obviously modified, against the rules. Nothing touches Reed.
"You think we'll be ready for the tournament?" Jack asks.
My mouth opens. The words die as Liam reaches out and touches Reed's arm. Fingers resting on Reed's bicep.
My steps falter.
"Ethan?"
Reed leans in. Mouth at Liam's ear. Whispering something that makes Liam's eyes widen. Reed's hand comes up to Liam's waist. Casual. Possessive.
"I need to…" I don't finish. I'm already moving.
"Ethan, wait…!"
Something snaps. Wire breaking under too much tension. My vision narrows to a tunnel: Reed's mouth, Reed's hand, Liam's waist.
I don't plan what happens next. One moment I'm walking, the next I'm shoving Reed hard enough to make him stumble backward. I position myself between them, back to Liam, facing Reed.
"Back off." The words barely sound like my own voice. "He's mine."
Reed's expression shifts. Surprise, then calculation, then something unhinged. He starts laughing. Loud. Like the psycho he is.
"Who the fuck do you think you are, Farley?" He snarls, the grin spreading wider. "If it isn't the golden boy. Missing your daddy? Just ask. I can make you my little bitch."
Behind me, Liam grabs my arm. "Ethan, what the hell!"
I shake him off. Eyes on Reed. "Stay out of this, Liam."
Reed's smirk makes my blood boil. "Yeah, Liam, stay out of it. Your guard dog's off his leash."
"I said back off." I step closer. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.
"Or what?" Arms open, inviting. "Or motherfucking what?"
"Guys, stop!" Liam tries.
Reed's eyes flick past me to Liam. "Tell your keeper to calm down before he does something stupid."
Jack's hand on my shoulder, pulling. "Come on, man. Not worth it."
I should listen. Walk away. I've never broken rules like this, never risked everything over something this stupid. But Reed is still smirking, still looking at Liam like he owns him, and everything I've spent years building, control, discipline, composure, evaporates.
"Stay away from him."
Reed laughs. "Make me."
My fist connects with his jaw before I can think.
The shock travels up my arm. He flinches, then looks at me with that murderous grin and lunges forward, shouldering past my guard, tackling me around the waist. He's having fun.
That's the worst part. The impact knocks the wind out of me as we hit the ground, rolling in the dirt.
Liam shouts something lost in the blood rushing through my ears.
Reed lands on top, knees pinning my shoulders, fist raised.
"Stop!" Jack grabs at Reed's shoulders.
Reed throws an elbow back, catching Jack in the ribs. Then punches me so hard I see stars, the world exploding in pain, mouth filling with blood.
"Someone's coming!" Jack says, desperate.
Reed breaks free, scrambles up, bolts. I follow, dirt and grass stuck to me, blood everywhere. But my blood is still boiling, vision red, ears buzzing. I let Jack lead me, aware of Liam close behind. My lip throbs with every heartbeat. The adrenaline starts to ebb.
I just fought Reed. Over Liam.
Everything I've worked for. Every mark on my record. Every step toward my future.
I don't care. All I care about is that stupid boy.
"Bathroom," Jack says, pulling me through the dormitory hallway. "Quick. Before anyone sees you."
I catch my reflection in a window, dirt-streaked face, bloody lip, wild eyes. I barely recognize myself.
Liam is silent behind me. I can't look at him. Can't face whatever's written on his face. I've spent days pushing him away, only to explode the moment he showed any sign he’d possibly moved on.
I brace against the sink, watching blood drip onto white porcelain in bright red circles. Liam wets a paper towel. I look at him in the mirror. The softness on his face, no anger, no judgment, only concern. My expression cracks for a second.
"Hold still," he murmurs. I flinch from the pressure against my swollen lip. His fingers brush my chin, tilting my face toward the light.
"Is it bad?" I try not to move my mouth.
His eyes flick to mine, a small smile, then away. "You'll live. Though Reed might want to rearrange your face again tomorrow."
Half laugh, half wince. The movement pulls at the split. Fresh blood. He dabs at it again. White paper turning red.
Jack paces by the door, peeking into the hallway. "So far so good. No guards, no Griff."
Liam rinses another paper towel, water running pink. He reaches up, hesitates. "You didn't have to do that," he says quietly. Eyes on my lip.
"Do what?"
"Go full alpha male on Reed. We were just talking."
"Didn't look like just talking."
Jack glances at us, then slips out, something about checking the hallway, leaving us alone.
Silence. Just the drip of the faucet.
When he reaches up to dab at my lip again, I catch his wrist.
"What are you doing?" he whispers.