Chapter 25
Chapter twenty-five
Tristian
Ishoved the last box of old flash sheets and stencil paper into the corner, the cardboard scraping against the floor.
The back closet of the shop was a graveyard of abandoned ideas—broken tattoo machines, half-empty ink bottles, and sketches I’d started in a different lifetime.
It mirrored the state of my head: cluttered, messy, and haunted by old mistakes.
Once I’d finished, I straightened up, wiping the dust and grease from my palms onto my jeans. Stepping out, I stopped by Kane’s station as he scrolled through his texts.
“What did you find out?” I asked, my voice dropping to a low rasp.
He sighed, running a hand down his face as he lowered the phone. He’d been sniffing around quietly, trying to see what strings Darragh was pulling in the background, what his angle was. “Darragh is going to make fifty grand right now with the bets against you if you lose.”
“Fifty grand,” I echoed. The number was obscene, way more even than I’d get for winning the whole night. Insane what sort of betting went on in the underbelly of the fight scene.
Kane nodded grimly. “On the night of the fight, it is only going to grow. I’m guessing his take-home is gonna be another ten…”
I felt a bitter laugh surface in my throat. “That jackass offered me twenty grand to throw the fight, while he’s going to clear triple that. Whereas if I win…”
“Fifteen K, maybe,” said Kane uneasily. “And your integrity, or whatever.”
“But Ingrid won’t be safe,” I muttered.
Kane let out a hollow breath. “No,” he agreed. He knew all about how Darragh had waited for us outside the restaurant a few nights ago.
Between that and keeping her captive at the Obsidian, it was clear that Ingrid was in real danger. What exactly that meant, I didn’t know—I couldn’t see Darragh using the belt on a girl… but the man was unhinged. In the time since I’d last done his bidding, maybe I’d forgotten exactly how much.
I thought of Ingrid at the restaurant, the way she looked in that black dress, the way she leaned on me as if I were the only stable thing in her world. If Darragh touched her, I’d burn the city down, but burning it down wouldn’t keep her safe.
I leaned back against his desk, the edge digging into my spine. I shrugged, though inside I was running a million scenarios in my mind. “I guess my answer is set then…”
“Tristian. If you lose, this won’t be the end of it,” Kane warned, his voice dropped to a whisper. “You were lucky to get out before. This time, he won’t let you.”
“And if I win, he’ll go after Ingrid,” I shot back. “The hell am I supposed to do then?”
Kane sighed heavily again. “Look. You want out from under Noah, Darragh’s got the money for you to do it.
He’ll fund your mom’s bills, no question.
But you know once you’re back in, you’re his.
Running errands, moving shit, looking the other way.
Whatever he needs. You don’t just walk away from him. ”
Darragh was into way more than my father: drug-running, smuggling, black market weapons… Things I got away from for my own good. But whereas my father kept a leash around my neck, Darragh had a chain.
“I already walked away before and look at the shit I’m in now.”
“If you don’t fight, Ingrid’s in danger,” Kane muttered. “I don’t know what Darragh’s capable of but I’m sure I don’t want to find out through her.”
“She’s in danger either way. You think he leaves her alone once I’m working for him? All he has to do is put pressure on her and I’ll do whatever he wants.”
Kane was quiet for a second. Then, “You ever think about just working for Noah?”
My head snapped up. “Kane—” I growled.
He held his hands up. “Just hear me out,” he said. “I’m not pushing, just saying. You don’t like it, you can tell me to fuck off and I’ll drop it.”
My jaw ground. I wanted to tell him to fuck off right now. But Kane had been there for almost everything, helped me out over the years, was still in my corner even now. I owed him the listen whether or not I wanted to hear it.
“Fine,” I grunted. “Make your point.”
“Your dad’s an asshole, yeah, I know you hate the guy and everything he stands for. But he wants you working for him. If you do, that means your mom’s covered, Darragh loses his leverage, Ingrid’s not a target. You stop fighting him and problem solved.”
“Wrong, on all counts,” I said. Holding up my fingers, I ticked them off as I went.
“First: Noah doesn’t just want me to work for him; he wants me to give up everything.
This shop, fighting. If I don’t, then my mom will still be leverage for him to manipulate me with, just like Darragh will do with Ingrid.
“Second, Ingrid won’t be threatened by Noah, obviously—the asshole actually hired her to calm me down—but Darragh won’t just magically disappear because Daddy dearest put me in a suit and tie.
He’ll still be there. This way Ingrid and Mom will both be in danger.
That’s three, by the way. Darragh won’t let this drop. ”
Kane chewed the inside of his lip. “Yeah. You’re right.”
I held up a fourth finger.
“Four?” he said, raising his eyebrow.
“Fuck off,” I told him.
He let out a laugh before he began to pack up to leave as I walked back to my station.
I stood there after he left. The shop was silent, only the hum of the refrigerator in the back and the buzz of the neon signage in the windows. I sat at my station, flipping through the same sketchbook Ingrid had first looked through, though I didn’t see the pages. My thoughts were elsewhere.
My mother in a bed I couldn’t afford. My father with his hand on the cord. Darragh with his eyes on Ingrid like she was something he could use against me.
Every option I had led back to the same place. There was no move that didn’t cost something. There was no version of this where I walked away clean, no version where I had control of anything.
It was a rigged game. Being asked to trade my pride, my freedom for Ingrid’s safety and my mother’s life.
I thought about her laugh, the way she asked for “matching sweaters,” and the absolute trust in her eyes when we made it official. She didn’t belong in my world and I still dragged her inside of it.
I picked up the phone, my thumb hovering over the screen. I couldn’t protect her by standing up against him—I could only protect her by surrendering.
I opened a new message to Darragh and typed the words that made me feel sick.
I’ll throw the fight. Do what needs to be done.
Keep your hands off her.
I hit send and tossed the phone onto my station, running a hand through my hair.
The fight was fixed, my soul sold, and for the first time in my life, I was praying that losing would be enough.