18. Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Bexley
T he warehouse is packed to the brim. It seems like every student from Cedar Heights and Willowbrook is here.
I'm not sure if it's because we made a display of allyship this past week and people think it's a load of shit and we're going to punch it out, or if they think there's news to be heard. But either way, people can barely move around. It's also Thursday night and I'm certain everyone is keen to blow off some steam before the weekend.
We moved the fights up a night when tension started to bubble over at school. People were getting antsy at the new dynamic, unsure how to react. The atmosphere was intense, and despite rarely holding the fights on a school night, we all agreed it was a good idea.
A fight finishes in the cage, and I clap enthusiastically, poking out my tongue in a mock gesture to Tai as he looks over from the other side of the room with a disgruntled look on his face. We're up three to one so far in the fights tonight, and I just know it's annoying the ever-loving shit out of them.
They can't say I didn't warn them.
The three guys are perched in their usual seats, while I hover and balance on top of a thick plastic barricade to get a better view of the cage from the other side of the room. From here, I have the perfect vantage point over the crowd, the fights, and best of all, I'm directly in the line of sight for Tai, Hunter, and Rylan.
I want them to see me. I've proven time and time again that I'm a force to be reckoned with, and despite their efforts, I'm not going to bow down. There's nothing more pleasing than being a constant reminder of someone's failure when they've tried to break you or make you fall into line.
But still, I find it weird that we're somewhat in this place. When Rylan suggested a truce, I could have fallen off the rooftop in shock. I was never going to back down, but if I'm being honest, I never expected him to crack either. I assumed we'd be in a frequent place of tension until we finally got the all-clear to return back to our own school. But his words surprised me. I still have no idea what his motives are, but if it means a better environment for my people, I need to consider their position in all this.
Two more people climb into the cage and the crowd in front of me starts to murmur. Of course, I knew what was scheduled, but for the majority of the folks here, no one knew he was going to fight tonight—or ever.
It's Parker's first time in the ring. He came to me yesterday, begrudgingly asking to fight. When I pressed for the reason, it turns out Millie is closer to breaking him than I thought. Finally, he agreed she could fight but only after he tried it himself first.
To be fair, I know Parker's a protective big bro, but he and Millie are two peas in a pod. They both have wild personalities, and I can tell he's been keen to jump in for some time now. But he swallowed those urges, knowing full well that she'd lose her crap if he got to do it and she didn't.
Right on cue, Millie pushes her way through the crowd toward me, and before she can even open her mouth, I move to the side and motion for her to join me on the barricade. While I want a premium view, even in the crowd I'd be able to watch it relevantly easily. But my fun-sized shadow will never be able to see past all the heads.
"Thanks, boss," she grins, keeping her balance as she turns to face the cage.
I cringe. "Bex is fine," I say with amusement. "How are you feeling?"
Millie shrugs, the two of us watching as Parker stretches his arms. "Scared."
"Really?" I ask, surprised. "Scared for Parker?"
She shakes her head, a smirk appearing on her face. "Scared for the other guy."
A laugh bubbles out of me just as the bell rings. Parker instantly tenses for a quick second, but it's not with trepidation—it's the urge to control himself. The other guy from Willowbrook juggles his fists clumsily in front of his face, egging Parker on. Stupid move. I can already tell how this is going to go down. I don't need to have seen Parker's moves to know how good he is. The tall, bulky guy in white has already made it clear that he's too hot-heated to be in the ring. It's easy to pinpoint how good a fighter is based on their pre-fighting behavior. Of course, the logic doesn't always fit, but most of the time, especially in young males, their egos do all the talking.
Neither make the first move straight away. Parker raises his fists, but they are steady, covering his face if Ego-man decides to suddenly take a surprise swing. They play a game of chicken for a few seconds before the latter rushes forward, aiming straight for Parker's face. Rookie move. He's got that area protected, so Parker easily blocks him.
Ego-man appears stunned for a moment that his hit didn't land, angrily moving forward again. Even though his strategy didn't work the first time, the imbecile tries the exact same maneuver. To no one's astonishment, he misses again when Parker blocks, but this time, a return fist comes in his direction. Ego-man is too distracted and gobsmacked by his failure that he doesn't bother to block.
Next to me, Millie laughs manically, clearly pleased at herself for being right. I give her a playful shove with my elbow, grinning at her to behave.
I turn back to the cage just as Parker's fist connects with his opponent's cheek, and without giving him a second to recover, more blows swing out. Two, three, four—and on the fifth punch, Ego-man's eyes roll into the back of his head, his entire body stumbling backward into the cage wall.
From this angle, Millie and I have a perfect view, and my face scrunches up as I anticipate what's about to happen. Ego-man falls into the fencing, his weight sending the rusty material barreling into the crowd along with himself.
People quickly scatter out of the way as he crashes through, no one bothering to try to catch the heavy, fallen fighter. He lands like a sack of bricks in the middle of the two cohorts and I watch as a few people from Willowbrook circle around to check on him. The three guys are on their feet too, watching with concern and frustration, and someone raises a hand, giving them a thumbs-up to signal their buddy is okay.
I feel his eyes on me before I see them myself. When I glance back over, Hunter is glaring at me. If I've learned anything about him recently, it's that he's a competitive little shit just like me. No doubt our four to one scorecard is bruising their egos after their confident word vomit earlier today.
And now, we have to call it a night. It's been a long-standing rule that the fights will only happen if the cage is enclosed. From previous experiences, accidents, like what just occurred, mean that innocent spectators get caught in the crossfire. They didn't consent to a fight therefore they shouldn't get injured from one. So, we're now on hiatus until we can rectify the damage.
Archie pushes his way through the crowd with Abby by his side, grinning from ear to ear. "Another victory, I guess," he shouts over the noise of the crowd.
I nod, offering a hand to Millie as Archie does the same. She grabs both of them for leverage, jumping to the ground.
"Told ya," she cackles, heading straight toward Parker who's climbing out of the cage.
She disappears in the crowd, and I jump to the ground myself, giving Abby a quick nod in greeting before turning to Archie. "They are pissed."
"Yep," he agrees. "Astor apparently wagered a huge bet that they were going to win tonight."
"It's cute that they were so confident," I smile, watching as people start moving toward the exits. "You realize we're going to have to let Millie fight next time."
Archie pulls Abby closer to his side as a group of people swarm past us. He keeps his eyes on me, almost like it was a natural instinct to protect her, one he did subconsciously. But with his attention focused on me, I get the privilege of seeing Abby's face light up with the same realization, her head turning to glance up at him, dare I say it… lovingly .
You know what else is cute? Seeing Archie so protective of his girl—the very one he's been pining over for years. And knowing that it's reciprocated means everything to me. If anyone deserves happiness, it's Archer Roberts.
"Ha, yeah," he says with a chuckle. "Parker had to have known that this would be the outcome. He's not the lose willingly type."
"I think he just wants to make her happy," I answer, shooting him a knowing look as my eyes drift to his arm around Abby's waist.
The both of them pick up on my vibe and suggestive words, cheeks turning red. I'm sure they want to lie and blame the almost unbearable heat in the warehouse—I'll pretend that's the reason too.
Giving them a wave of my hand, I glance over the crowd. "You guys head on out. I need to go speak to the Three Musketeers. You know what the rules say—we need to decide who's responsible for payment to fix the cage."
Archie hesitates for a moment. "I can come with you if you like," he offers.
"It's fine," I say, unfazed. "Go head to the beach with everyone else. I'll be there soon."
He nods, grinning down at Abby. "What do you say, baby girl? Ready to go?"
Abby smiles at him, my heart doing that weird melting thing again at the gesture. "Ready if you are, Sagg."
"Sagg?" I blurt out, trying to fight back a smile.
Archie blushes again but Abby beams at me. "Like Sagittarius ," she says proudly. "Since that's his star sign and his name is—"
"Archer," I finish for her, holding back a laugh at his sudden shyness. "I like it."
"What's your star sign?" she asks excitedly. "I like comparing notes, just for the fun of it."
This time, I can't hide the grin from my face. She's so bubbly and happy—it's a contagious vibe. "Aquarius."
Her mouth forms an O shape as she nods with wide eyes. "Independent, loyal, logical, rebellious… and detached. Checks out."
"What?" I laugh. "Those are my traits?"
Archie clears his throat. "Well, I mean…" he trails off, smirking smugly.
"I'm not…" I start, ready to defend myself as I run through her list in my mind. "Wait…"
Abby waves her hand at me, trying to dismiss my train of thoughts. "Aquarians are good people. Natural born leaders and very smart."
"Okay, now you're just trying to suck up," I scold playfully. "Off you go, you pair of lovebirds."
They both laugh, giving me a wave goodbye as they disappear into the departing crowd. I lean against the plastic barricade as I wait for everyone to leave, making a mental note to ask Abby what her star sign is next time. My gaze flickers over to the other side of the room and for a brief second, I can't help but wonder what their star signs are.
Wait, what? I must be losing my mind. I don't care about them that much, or at all. Plus, I already know their personality traits. They are grade-A assholes with a complexity problem. Not to mention competitive, deviant, and lacking the smallest measurement of compassion between the three of them.
That's the story I'm going with—yep. And I certainly haven't rubbed my wrist a hundred times this week where Rylan placed a kiss in his bedroom.
This week has been oddly peaceful despite the growing tension, and I've been finding myself in constant daydreams, thinking about our encounter on Monday.
The past few days I've made sure to keep clear, not fully trusting myself to be near him. He has a habit of bringing my guard down. But we've still texted, talking about our usual things and exchanging quirky little details about ourselves in conversation. Like for example, Rylan hates the texture of Styrofoam. If he can avoid touching it, he will at all costs. And I stupidly admitted to him that the first—and only—time I walked the canyon trail, I was so exhausted that I accidentally flashed an entire group of tourists when I stumbled over my own feet.
It takes around ten minutes for everyone to disperse out of the warehouse, and when it falls deathly quiet, I realize how unusual this feels. We're the only four people left in this big room. Ego-man is the last to go, slumped over the shoulder of a football player, mumbling to himself with a clear concussion.
The three of them are watching me from across the room, and I know we're playing chicken again. They want me to come to their side .
Echoing my thoughts, Rylan lifts a hand, beckoning me with his index and middle fingers, a wicked smirk on his face.
I scoff, dramatically loud for effect, and cross my arms as I fight back a smile. "Why don't you come here?" I yell, internally cringing at how loud my voice sounds now that the room is empty.
"Easier if you come here," Tai shouts back. "There's only one of you."
Shaking my head with a little huff, I concede—but only because realistically it makes sense, much to my disgust. But also, I'm not afraid to step into their territory. Yes—that's the reason. Not because my body begs to get closer to Rylan.
Their eyes stay trained on me as I cross the room, and when they sit back down in their makeshift thrones, I roll my eyes. "Really?" I ask, pausing in front of them.
"What?" Rylan asks, feigning innocence. "Just resting our legs. We did a lot of standing."
"You did a lot of losing," I shoot back with a smug look. "In many ways. Lost some money, did you?"
Rylan's jaw tenses up, but it's Hunter who speaks next.
"Enough. I already have a headache forming and don't need you to add to it."
"Am I a headache?" I ask sweetly. "Shame."
Hunter stands suddenly, jumping down from the platform. "Let's just get this over with. You need to cover the costs."
"Me?" I repeat, somewhat offended by his demand. "It was your guy that destroyed it."
He shrugs. "Take the win and take the fall, Duchess."
My teeth grind together. They know very well that we don't have access to money as easily as they do.
"No."
Hunter's eyes flash dangerously. He takes a step toward me, and I tip my chin up, holding his gaze. "No?"
"Did I stutter, Hunter?"
"Fix it or else," he threatens.
I can't resist the urge. "Or what?"
"You're on our tuff, Duchess," he says, riling me up again with the nickname. "We'll move the fights to Willowbrook grounds. I'm sure I can swing my father's approval—it's convenient, after all. Since we're all there together anyway. I hold no guilt about having a home ground advantage."
"Do you really think your father is going to let you move the fights to his precious school?" I taunt. "Please—I see right through your bluff. We're riff-raff to him. It would draw attention from the authorities."
Hunter steps closer again. Our chests touch as he gets right in my face, unwavering. "He might be the dean but he's a Willowbrook Wolf through and through. He'd be willing to turn a blind eye if it meant putting you in your place."
I ignore the personal threat to his statement, raising an eyebrow. "Given Mayor Astor's current position in this town, I'm not the least bit surprised to hear that your father is corrupt. I bet they are in bed together too."
"Watch it, Spencer," Rylan growls from behind him.
Hunter shakes his head slowly, lips pulling up. "At least I have a father, Duchess. Mine actually stuck around for me."
Okay, fuck the personal attack on me before. That was uncalled for.
Since I can't slap or punch him from this angle, I have little choice but to just shove him back, trying to disperse some of this built-up frustration. My hands connect with his chest as I throw my weight through my palms.
Hunter stumbles back from the force since he has no time to prepare and find balance. Immediately, any sense of control and equilibrium he had vanishes from his face, rage taking its place.
"You fucking bitch," he snaps, lunging forward.
His hand wraps around my throat, squeezing all the air out of my body. I throw my hands up, one to his wrist and the other to his neck, digging all my nails in as I choke him back. We must look quite the sight, the two of us trying to dominate the other with mutual choke holds.
"Okayyyy," Tai says in a sing-song tone, jumping off the platform. "Let's chill, yeah? We're getting off topic. How about Hunter and I head home, and Rylan, you can sort this out?" He pushes in between our bodies, forcing us both to let go of the other.
Hunter and I glare at each other heatedly, neither backing down. There's a jingle of metal and a flash of silver as Rylan throws a set of car keys to Tai.
"I've got this," Rylan murmurs to Tai, the sound of his landing reaching my ears. He steps in front of me, blocking Hunter from view. "Come on, firecracker. Let's go negotiate."