Chapter 23
The crowd around me goes absolutely bananas when Huxley and Malic jump into the ring with murder in their eyes.
I swear every muscle on their impressive bodies bulges with every move.
Malic carries himself with more ease, though.
Floating across the space with a grin, enticing the crowd to scream his name.
Hux glares at Malic with an intensity that might set him on fire.
He rests in the corner, watching Malic exude all his energy.
Smart tactic on Hux's part. If Malic were a normal human being, then he'd waste all that on hyping up the crowd instead of rearranging Hux's face.
Too bad Malic seems to be an extra-terrestrial with pent-up energy stored somewhere deep inside him.
Hell, he doesn't even break a sweat when he jumps up and down, thudding his feet into the mat.
I shake my head. "Idiot," I murmur, sipping my beer to stifle my remarks. If only this bar served margaritas or something else fruity, I’d be in heaven. Instead, I’m stuck with this to drown out my pain.
Jordy eyes me with amusement, knowing exactly what's going through my mind. But he doesn't say anything.
"Oh my God!" Simon howls happily, throwing his arm in the air. His body sways slightly, and Jordy puts an arm around his waist to steady him.
"Careful there, Si," he mutters, pulling Si into his side protectively. "I'm cutting you off." Jordy looks sternly at Simon, causing the man to pout and stomp his foot.
Oh, yeah. Simon is absolutely wasted. It happened between the time of my fight and now. I guess we can’t leave him to his own devices. He’s not to be trusted around booze.
"This is just so exciting! Isn't it?" Simon shouts, tossing back his fifth and final beer of the night, emptying it.
Jordy discreetly peels it from his hand and hands it back to the bartender, who nods in thanks.
"They only fought once last year, and it was.
.." He whistles under his breath. "It was a sight to see!
And Mack and Wilder? It's a night full of surprises!
" he howls, throwing his head back. The rest of the crowd seems in sync with him as their voices carry through the Coliseum and cheer the two on.
Hux finally steps out of the corner of the ring, stretching his neck back and forth.
The lights shine down on his body, highlighting the new ink he's procured throughout the years.
I swallow hard, viewing the giant 224 located on his chest surrounded by white daisies.
Up close and in person, it's massive. A dedication.
But to whom? Certainly not to me. How could it be when he was directly responsible for my untimely death? Or not-so-death. Whatever.
His ink decorates almost every inch of his abdomen, chest, arms, and back. They're abstract. Mostly shapes, faces, and others I can't quite make out. My breath catches in the back of my throat. I expected it to be there. Maybe covered up. But it's not. It's small. Our first tattoo together.
"You're sure about this?" I ask, nervously biting my lip.
"What? That we want to dedicate our lives to you? Uh, duh," Mack says, kissing my temple and lingering. "We wouldn't have it any other way."
"It's our promise to you, Spitfire." The neon signs of the tattoo shop illuminate
JJ’s face in pinks and blues as we stand outside the establishment.
"Okay," Hux says, coming out the front door.
"He says he can get the four of us in together in about an hour.
Seems they're having a slow day." Hux grins, holding out a piece of paper.
"This is the font we chose." How he managed to get us an appointment when we’re underage, I’ll never know. They probably know who his father is.
I swallow hard, looking at the words printed in pretty cursive. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. Always.
"You're the always," JJ murmurs, circling the word several times with his finger as his eyes linger on my watery expression.
We’re really doing this. Cementing ourselves to each other.
"I'm the today," Mack snorts, shaking his head.
"I'm the tomorrow," Hux says.
"I'm the forever," JJ says smugly.
"You all planned this out, didn't you?" I ask, looking between the three of them with wide eyes. There’s no way they hadn’t fought about this without agreeing beforehand who got what word on them.
"You know it's us against the world, Trouble," Hux says, taking my chin between his fingers. "This is a symbol of our dedication. We talked about it before we came or said anything to you."
"It won't hurt, will it?" I ask, blinking several times. I never dreamed of having a tattoo. Not with my father's watchful eye. But now? It's time to defy him in every sort of way. He trusts these guys because they're Franco's sons.
"Will it be worth it if there's no pain involved?" Hux asks, tilting his head. "That's what this world is, Trouble. Painful."
I understand immediately what he's saying.
We all share pain in our lives. Some of us more than others.
They understand what I go through with my dad.
The only reason I'm able to come out with them tonight is because my dad is occupied with his newest apprentice.
Someone who takes precedence over me. Everyone is above me in his eyes.
"No pain. No gain," Mack says in agreement.
"And the placement?" JJ asks.
Hux stares into my eyes intently, grabbing me by the soul and pulling me into him. That's what they are. That's what this means. We're soul mates. The four of us together. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. Always.
"On the ribs," I mutter.
Malic marches toward Hux with determination. They stand there. Nose to nose, glaring into each other's eyes. Their muscles tense in unison, and it makes me wonder where all the hate between the two of them came from?
"Hey, Simon. Why do they hate each other so much?" I don't take my eyes off them as they mutter words to each other.
"Rivals," Simon says with a dreamy smile.
"Rumor has it that Mr. Viking is in a rival gang or something.
You know this town is full of criminals and their underworld.
Hux's not-so-real-daddy, is the leader of the Franco Syndicate. And Malic? Mmm. His boss is a shadow. That’s why we call them the Shades.
No one knows who the boss man is. But he's a slimy fuck.
They have a gym." Simon hiccups, shaking his head.
"In the middle of town, where Malic and Wilder work. An all-dudes gym," he rolls his eyes.
"A gym," I surmise, nodding a few times and remembering the invitation from Wilder to spar and train there.
"Interesting..." They have a gym that they help run for their shadowy boss? Weird. Normal gang leaders are out and proud about their criminal enterprise. So, why not this guy? Why does he hide in the shadows and use those two as the face of it all? Fuck. Just add that to the list of things I need to investigate while I’m here. I guess Jonathan was right. There’s a shit ton of moving parts to this case that I need to immerse myself in.
"They have fighting lessons there. Maybe I should go and get all tangled up and thrown to the ground," he giggles, covering his lips with his fingers.
Jordy snorts, "Why get thrown around by strange men when you have me?" He winks, and Simon melts, putting his head on Jordy's shoulder.
"So romantic, Jordy," Simon hums. "Throw me around later. I like it rough and dirty."
I gag. "Uh, please. None of that. I don't need to know about what's going to happen later." I cover my mouth with my fingers, pretending to gag again. Having images of my newly appointed best friend tangled up with my not-so-brother, has me aching to vomit everywhere.
Where’s the brain bleach when you need it?
"Next-next time, I'll try to be quiet. I'm a screamer," Simon says way louder than necessary with a giggle.
"Seriously, no more booze for you, big guy," Jordy chortles, pulling Simon closer to his body. "We'll make sure to get you home safe tonight."
The people around us don't notice our conversation once the fight starts. Hux and Malic stand tall, staring each other down without throwing the first punch.
"Come on! Hit him!" they all start to chant as they circle one another.
Malic grins at the crowd, taking his eyes off Hux for one split second, and meets my gaze for an uncomfortable amount of time, almost as if he’s saying something with his eyes.
But what? I have no idea. Before I can examine why he’s looking at me, all hell breaks loose.
They go at each other with vicious punches.
Blood spurts from their noses and lips, and Hux's brow splits, running red down his face.
Even then, the referee doesn't step in to stop anything as they continue to pound into each other.
The crowd loses their shit. Jumping up and down and screaming at the violence before them.
It's so sad that a place that once meant a lot to the four of us has become this. Bloodshed. Violence.
I swallow back a few sips as a familiar twinge in my stomach causes my breath to leave my lungs.
I put my hand there, slowly rubbing back and forth, hoping it’s from the fight and not what I think it's from.
Stress should reduce the risk of my period coming.
Besides, it's so erratic that it's hard to track my cycle.
Fuck.
The pain comes on again. A little more intense than the last one, squeezing my uterus like it’s trying to give birth.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pleading it's just from the pain of Brutus and his vicious fists.
Asshole. He's lucky he struck me before our time had started.
Otherwise, he wouldn't have gotten a single blow in. I know next time, if I ever come back, that I won't be so damn lucky. Pain erupts in my jaw and my ribs. Again and again. It’s like my body is suddenly letting me know it’s revolting against the fight and everything else going on in my life right now.