49. Bay
FORTY-NINE
bay
Levi and I have barely spoken to each other as he drives to the middle of nowhere to attend tonight’s festivities. Nessa has been in the backseat, controlling the radio with her phone, and neither Levi nor I bitch at her about her music selections.
Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift definitely wouldn’t have been my choice to pump myself up for the night, but I’m more surprised that Levi didn’t bite her head off.
Instead, his inked fingers wrapped tightly around the wheel, and he stared ahead in a daze as he drove.
It’s Cairo’s big fight night against Matteo for Wharf Bay’s Titan seat, and I already know that what I’m about to see tonight isn’t going to be easily forgotten. In fact, just having to be in the same room with Matteo makes my skin crawl with anxiety that I don’t want to feel and that has no business resonating with me.
But it does.
Furthermore, I’m pushing a bar—a very big one—when I walk inside with my best friend, who’s supposed to be my big-mouthed ex-boyfriend.
Honestly, Torin and Reeve have to know right now that our ploy was the biggest piece of shit lie in the universe. If Levi had made those threats in real life, I’d never allow him in Dad’s hospital room, I’d let him and Cairo come to blows in the waiting room, and I’d give Torin the green light to do what it was he wanted to do, but that came with unseen circumstances and since I’m highly fond of Pretty Boy, I more than likely still wouldn’t have blown that whistle.
The moment we step inside, the smell of weed, cologne, and cleaning products all mixed together in a cloud of the worse stomachache ever. School bleachers line on all four walls, the place is packed head to toe around a makeshift ring in the center of the floor and my stomach turns again.
“Heads or tails?” Levi asks me before we begin to climb a set of bleachers.
I don’t bother to ask what for, because I’m too much of a mess to care. “Tails.”
A silver coin makes a short trip in the air before landing in Levi’s palm before he flips it onto the top of his other inked hand. “Of course, it was meant to be harder.”
He trudges up the stands with me in tow, as Nessa links her arm with mine in silent comfort. I settle next to Levi a few rows up and immediately begin searching the crowd when Nessa takes my other side.
“They’re with Cairo,” Levi tells me, as if reading the energy fumigating off me. “And, don’t worry about them being pissed that you’re here with me. They shouldn’t be surprised.”
“And why’s that?” I ask, still scanning the place.
“You’re South Shore. It doesn’t matter that we’re not together.”
“I think that’s been blown out of the water. Torin knows you were in Dad’s hospital room the other night.”
“And?”
I lift my shoulders. “Nothing. Torin let it go.”
“I didn’t know maturity was in his DNA.”
“I didn’t know pettiness wasn’t in his DNA. He’s possessive as all fuck.” I feel Levi’s heated glare on me and that should’ve been a comment I kept for Nessa, but it slipped. Pushing my lips together, I try to change the subject. “How many matches are there?”
“Not very many.”
“Any chick fights?” Nessa asks. “I can’t imagine you staying here long, Levi.”
“Sometimes.”
It doesn’t take a moron to see that Levi isn’t in the mood for chit-chat, so I don’t say anything else. Only the immediate surroundings to ground myself into some cocoon where Matteo’s presence isn’t going to fuck me up.
“I can’t wait to see your ex get his ass handed to him,” Nessa says at my side with a little nudge. “Especially by that sexy-as-fuck Italian.” I don’t offer much to that comment, because agreeing might get Levi to amp up his broody. I’d rather not receive shit from him when I know I’m going to get it from Torin and Reeve. “How many times have you been challenged, Lev?”
I’ve never thought of that before.
And I find myself craning my head to look at Levi to receive that answer.
He doesn’t glance back when he says, “Once.”
“By who?”
“Don’t ask me questions just to rile yourself up,” he deadpans, keeping his gaze solely locked on the ring.
“That bad?” Nessa taunts back. “Was it a pity fight? Some old dude who only took you one punch to knock him out? Not worth bragging about?”
“Go fuck yourself, Nes,” he grounds out, locking his jaw in irritation.
“Then it looks like you got five seconds to redeem yourself or Bay and I over here are going to think that you beat the shit out of a child.”
My lips quirk in a smirk, even though she’s pressing his buttons, but this is familiar. It’s both of them always going back and forth amongst each other because one of them has to have the last word.
“I didn’t beat the shit out of a child,” he carps back. “I played chicken off Peer Pressure Point. The first person to bail lost.”
“You played some Rebel Without a Cause bullshit?” I carp out, and Levi stays silent, as if that news is too old to even acknowledge. “You’re stupid as fuck, Levi Wallace.”
He shrugs. “I was nineteen, just graduated. I needed to blow off some steam, and I knew that would scare the piss out of anyone not totally accustomed to cars.”
“Who challenged you?” Nessa presses, leaning up against my frame so that she doesn’t miss the answer.
Levi’s face doesn’t change, still unamused by the conversation. “Torin Wildes.”
I can’t help the way my eyes bulge in surprise because—um, Pretty Boy hasn’t mentioned a motherfuckin’ thing about it.
“Boy has balls,” my best friend continues lightly. “But that’s about it. He almost got me.”
“Lev—”
“My front tires hit the edge of that cliff and everything.”
My elbow thrusts into his ribs, but Levi doesn’t flinch. “You moron, you don’t get the seat if you die. ”
“I wasn’t gonna die,” Levi vouches confidently. “And even if I did…” He leans in, his bulky body putting weight onto mine, and whispers in my ear, “He’d be dead right along with me. The boys were going to throw him over the edge with me to make it look like we both took off over it. No Wildes was ever going to rule over South Shore.”
“What did he say?” Nessa solicits excitedly, gripping my arm and shaking me to answer.
“He was still…” Levi’s green eyes lock onto mine, and I see the first sign of amusement in them. Dick. “Levi was going to have Torin thrown over the side if he lost.”
And that bothers me.
It bothers me because, if Levi was gone, I would’ve spiraled. If Torin wasn’t here, I feel as though no one would fully understand how I tick and operate.
“Damn,” Nessa mutters before straightening her spine. “That’s savage.”
As fuck.
“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening.” My focus sprints to the ring to find a young dude standing in the middle with a microphone in his palm and blue spiked hair. “Welcome…to another eventful night where two men will go head-to-head for the prestigious honor of our exclusive organization and win the Wharf Bay Titan seat.” He holds out his left arm. “The challenger…from Shoreline Peaks, Matteo De Leon.”
The crowd roars in excitement as Levi straightens his spine against the presence of my ex and the possibilities of what he could do if he won the Titan seat.
It could go either way.
Matteo could side with us and keep his word because he wants to get back at Emilio for not believing in him fully or decide to go with the man who’s never had a real beef with him. Levi beat the shit out of Matteo when we were younger, and he found out everything my ex did to me. It would be the perfect revenge.
Matteo enters the ring in all black at one corner and patiently waits like a snack waiting to attack.
“And to my right—” the announcer holds up his opposite arm. “—the heir to the Wharf Bay kingdom and the son of Lorenzo Black…ladies and gentlemen, Cairo Black.”
The place erupts louder in cheers and banging of any surface people can reach, alluding to the crowd’s favorite in the match.
Cairo enters in a white tee that lines his shoulders and biceps, with gray sweatpants, standing on the other side while the announcer blabs on about the rules of the game and how things will end.
Pretty much death, someone getting knocked out or tapping out.
But it’s not just any punching match without gloves, but random weapons being presented to each fighter. Pipes, bottles, knives, and a hammer. However, as those things are being handed out on Matteo’s side, nothing is happening on Cairo’s.
“What’s happening?”
Levi shakes his head. “That stupid motherfucker is only fighting with his hands.”
“What the fuck?” I watch the two idiots stride toward each other in the ring and the announcer gestures for them to shake hands.
They do, and no sooner do they do that and back up a few steps, a bell rings to start the fight.
Both men circle each other, studying hidden secrets about each other’s stances, demeanor, dick sizes, whatever before Matteo rushes Cairo and receives a jab to the ribs. Cairo quickly follows it up with a left hook and thrusts Matteo’s head down to knee him in the face.
My ex stumbles back and right next to his corner of cheating goodies. And the first thing I see him pick up is a knife, pocketing the hammer in his back jean pocket.
Matteo circles Cairo again and this time Cairo makes the first move, faking a punch with his left again before landing with his right. He tries to knock the sharp blade out of Matteo’s hand, but my ex took a second weapon for a reason and quickly swings it horizontally to get Cairo’s chest.
He misses as my heart drops to my stomach over a man who burned down the Stowaway with me in it. A guy who never wants me around because he’s too busy making nice with the rich bitch.
Matteo gets a lucky shot and catches Cairo’s bulky bicep, creating a crimson blood pool to form at the sleeve of his t-shirt. He doesn’t flinch but continues to keep a close eye on the man who wants power more than anything. It eats him up inside to the point of madness. To the point of humanity. I’ve seen him gut people alive for either not giving him what he wants or needs.
Matteo is desperate.
And when you’re hopeless…you have nothing to lose.
Through my growing anxiety, Cairo somehow knocks the knife from Matteo’s hold and receives the metal end of a hammer instead. He blocks one blow then kicks at my ex’s knee before Cairo’s hit in the side of head.
He stumbles back, his hand going to the spot where he was bludgeoned and that’s when Matteo makes his move. He quickly rushes Cairo, thinking he’s going to get an easy shot when Matteo’s arm is blocked by Cairo’s forearm.
Sweat begins to form at the back of my neck with just the idea of Matteo having power over anything. He’s an animal—brutal, inhuman, and cruel. I don’t know much about Wharf Bay, but I know enough to believe that Matteo would destroy it. He’s like a toddler; if he doesn’t get his own way, he’ll reap hell on everyone.
“Lev—” I inch closer to my best friend for silent relief, because I’m uncomfortable being here wand watching this. “—you need to stop this.”
“I can’t,” he answers solemnly. “This is how these things happen.”
“He doesn’t have a weapon,” I retort sharply. “Matteo will?—”
“That was his choice.” Levi glances over at me with a disgruntled expression, and I’m not sure if it’s because of me or the situation. “Cairo Black is prideful.”
“He’s an idiot .”
Levi shrugs dismissively, clearly not giving a shit. “Either way, the idiot has his work cut out for him. Matteo is never going to let this go until one of them is dead.”
I shoot to my feet. “Dea—” Levi’s hand grips my wrist, and he gives me a little tug down.
“Calm down, Bay,” he gripes. “You have more pressing matters on your hands with the way Torin and Reeve appear like they’re going to rip your heart out.” I didn’t feel it. Didn’t sense them at all as I watch Cairo move around like a calculated machine in the ring. My eyes scan the area full of men and women, but Levi cuts into it. “Pay attention to Cairo. It’ll help your cause.”
“This is madness,” I retort through my teeth.
“This is a possible change of power. A new future of a disaster for Wharf Bay. This means everything to these men. The Titans provide for the community and Wharf Bay stands in the balance right now. Almost everyone from there is here right now.”
“They actually want Cairo?”
Levi bobs his head. “Lorenzo Black is a really good leader. He’s always been just and fair. He’s made Wharf Bay, not only part of the Forsaken Crew, but economically well off.”
“But, we just can’t stand here and watch him get murdered.” Levi quirks a brow, and I know the asshole does it because I said we. “How a woman hasn’t been the President of the United States yet is beyond me. You men are dumb as fuck.”
Levi shrugs. “Us measly men must not be ready for that yet.”
“So, if he dies then—” The crowd’s deep ow of disapproval gains my immediate attention as I find Matteo swinging at his fucking hammer again and Cairo jumping out of the way.
Blood soaks the whole side of Cairo’s face, and I’m surprised he can see anything. Matteo’s careless movements are something Cairo is paying close attention to, and I’m literally about to have a heart attack on these very bleachers.
Matteo kicks at Cairo, finally getting a lucky shot, when the man who tried to kill me in The Stowaway goes down to his knees.
I rise to my feet, seeing over everyone’s heads as Cairo still dodges Matteo’s hammer.
And where the fuck he comes up with a gun out of nowhere is beyond me.
He points the silver weapon at Cairo’s head and that’s when Cairo launches himself off the ground and barrels into Matteo’s gut.
They both go down while Cairo straddles Matteo’s frame and begins to deliver shots to his face over and over again.
“Focus!” I scream, cupping my hands over my mouth and watching the blind rage that Cairo is delivering to his opponent all too well. He’s not going to see anything Matteo plans on doing if he’s not paying attention, and the last thing he needs is another blow with a metal object or a bullet to the chest.
The crowd begins to cheer louder again, but Matteo isn’t done.
Not will be.
Never will be until he’s six feet in the ground.
He propels off the ground, sendings Cairo stumbling back a little, losing his momentum on Matteo’s face.
“Up!” I’m not sure if he can hear me, but speaking to him is making the growing anxiety in my chest loosen up a little.
Cairo rises to his feet and delivers a kick to Matteo’s throat, getting him to drop the gun, but not the large sledgehammer still tightened in his grasp. He swings it again, and Cairo steps back, but then he dishes out another punch to Matteo’s head and I watch my ex’s body roll back and slam to the unforgiving ground.
Cairo slices his hand across his neck and takes a few steps back.
The people below and all around lose it.
The roaring of victory ping-pongs off the walls and my body is already climbing over Nessa’s body and down the bleachers to get to him.
I don’t know why.
Cairo Black means nothing to me but being a straight pain in the ass. He’s made it more than clear how much of a slut he thinks I am.
When I reach the floor, I squeeze through men exchanging money and chugging down beers, liquor bottles with no chaser, and delighted with the winner. Levi’s words saunter into my head about Cairo’s father and how much he respects him without saying the words.
He doesn’t need you coddling him.
The thought hits my head right when my eyes connect with Cairo’s dark ones. He stands next to an older man who mirrors him. Dark features and a looming sense of power hover over him, and I immediately believe that it’s Lorenzo Black bringing his son down from the ring.
He ducks underneath the ropes and jumps to the floor, receiving a light slap to the shoulder from his old man, and begins toward my direction with purpose. Men congratulate him, still cheering him on and expressing their joy at him taking out the impulsive-ass Matteo De Leon.
When he reaches me, he stops on a dime within a foot of me, and I see all of the aftermaths of the fight. The crimson blood, the sheer blanket of sweat, and the look of perseverance painted all over his perfect face.
I’m relieved and upset…with myself.
I have zero reason to be approaching him about anything. We’re not each other’s biggest fans—at all. He wouldn’t catch a bullet for me, and I’d trip him without a second thought if he was acting like an ass clown.
Fingers wrap around mine and he pulls at me, guiding us through the thick throng of people as we stride from the space and somewhere else.
We breach the crowd moments later and arrive at a small and dark hallway, when my spine is pressed into the side of it and Cairo is immediately in my face.
“Came to watch me get my ass kicked?” His palm lands on the wall next to my head. A dim light hanging overhead gives way to the blood and cuts along his normally pristine features.
“You’re bleeding everywhere.”
Cairo stares at me for a second before one of his brows rise. “That’s what happens when you fight, Little Terror. If you’re any good, you happen to get some on you.”
“You need a fucking doctor.”
He shakes his head a tad. “I don’t want a doctor.”
“Don’t tell me you did all this just to be stubborn and bleed to death.”
“What are you doing here, Little T? If you’re trying to get Torin and Reeve’s attention, you got it. They’re already fucking pissed.”
I blow out a slow and unsteady exhale past my lips. “Yeah…I figured.”
“You fuckin’ Wallace again?” I open my mouth to retort that question when he tacks on, “Or not at all.”
I knew it.
Levi and I are not award-winning actors, so the whole fake-dating was just a shot in the dark to see if we could get movement.
I got it.
But Cairo is too fucking smart for his own good and mine.
“I’m not back with Levi,” I state lamely. “We’re just—” Cairo presses his chest into mine before his fingers gingerly wrap underneath the bottom of my jaw.
“What do you want, Bay?” The pad of his thumb brushes along my heated skin and I’m locked in a trance by just his touch alone. “Were you thinking that I was going to want a victory fuck and decided to give yourself up to me?”
“I…” Memories of Cairo watching me as his best friends drove and licked every part of my skin sends a violent shiver straight down to my core.
“It’s gonna take more than Torin and Reeve panting over you for me to even consider fucking you, South Shore. I’m not looking for complications and Wallace is a pitbull that I don’t want to have to shoot.”
“You wouldn’t,” I blurt out because I’ve seen how Cairo handles Levi and it’s impressive. The dude looks like he could literally not give two shits about how anyone feels about him.
“You keep him on your side of the fence, and we won’t have any problems.”
“He’s not gonna make a move on you.”
“And you’re so confident that I should just believe you.”
“No. But you’re not on the radar because there’s literally nothing you have that anyone wants.”
“Really? What does that include exactly? Because I just got myself a Titan seat.”
“Levi already has one of those.”
“I was talking about you.” His focus falls right to my lips and I still. “What is it about me that you don’t want?”
“How much time do you have?”
“As much as I want. No one is going to come searching for me, because they already think I’m balls deep inside you right now to celebrate my victory.”
“Yeah, we got it,” I carp back. “You won. I saw it.”
“I know it’s not my confidence that’s a turn-off,” Cairo divulges. “You like the cocky asshole look.”
“Maybe it’s because you’re a straight prick.”
“Maybe, or is that the reason?” he presses on as if he truly gives a shit. “I just want to make sure I’m clear.”
“If you’d save gas on your big-ass mouth, you might be able to do something productive with it.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Little T.” Then he uses said body part to kiss me stupid in the next second, showing off what else he can do with it when he’s not comping an attitude with me.
His lips are drenched in warm blood—my ex’s blood—as he demands my mouth to move with his. The brush of his tongue glides along the seam of my mouth, not waiting to warm me up to this idea or not.
However, that doesn’t stop the immediate burning sensation in my body that plainly surrenders to him. The way my spine arches into him for more contact, and I don’t miss the feral growl escaping Cairo’s throat when our tongues finally touch and mangle into a battle of wills and sheer lust.
It’s one of those moments when you’re in disbelief that it’s happening, and you wonder if you’re creating it all in your head. I wait for reality to set it and for Cairo to be popping off at the mouth, but he captures and captivates me with this kiss.
Like a king.
And just like a royal who has self-restraint and will flowing casually through his veins, Cairo breaks the kiss, leaving behind a panting and dizzy mess behind which is me.
“Thanks for the victory kiss, Little T,” he mutters, voice ragged from what we’ve just done. “I’ll let Reeve and Torin know where you’re at.”
And then he’s gone.