Chapter 19
Hayden
“Love The Way You Lie-Rihanna + Eminem”
The minute I exit the school doors, I shove Tracy and she falls straight into a bush with a shriek. “You wish, bitch.” I laugh over my shoulder while she screams for help.
I don’t stop walking. I just keep moving toward my bike with rage burning hot beneath my skin.
Because the truth is… I lied… Ophelia could never smell like another man. She only ever smells like coconut and sea salt. Like a summer night wrapped around my body beneath the stars.
Like home.
I’m just so fucking angry.
Angry she brought Brayden to our spot.
Angry that every time I look at her I still feel fifteen years old and hopelessly in love, and worst of all?
I’m angry because none of this pain is actually her fault. It’s her father’s, but hurting her is easier than facing the fact I’d burn Brimstone to the ground just to keep her.
The roar of my bike fills the parking lot as I tear out of Brimstone High harder than necessary. The city blurs around me for hours afterward.
I ride aimlessly through Brimstone letting the anger poison me slowly. Past the rich side of town where money hides monsters behind gated estates. Past Daggerspoint where violence breathes openly in alleyways and broken neon lights.
Everywhere I go… I still see her.
By the time night finally swallows the city whole, I pull into the Dungeon. Engines and music already shake the pavement beneath my boots.
Tonight’s the big fight event.
Packed house.
Big money.
Blood in the air.
Exactly what I need.
This place is already overflowing when I walk inside. Bodies shove shoulder to shoulder around the cage while smoke curls through the air. Music pounds so loud it rattles my ribs.
Caspian whistles from the bar when he spots me. “There’s our favorite emotionally unstable employee.”
“Fuck you, Demon.”
“Maybe later.” He winks, and I flip him off. He’s in a good mood tonight. That’s a change.
I grab the fight sheets from the counter excited for tonight’s match. Braxton versus Atlas Bendetti.
And holy shit… people are losing their minds over it.
Atlas hasn’t fought underground in a while. The last time he was here was over six years ago, right before his little sister vanished.
Liliana Bendetti. Snatched right off the street one night and never found again.
The city still whispers about it. A founding family who just so happened to be a diamond dealer and connected underground in ways people don’t speak about.
I walk over to the cage and step inside. The lights dim slightly as I grab the mic.
“WELCOME TO THE FUCKING DUNGEON!” I scream, and the crowd erupts instantly.
Braxton enters first, shirtless and already grinning like a psychopath while girls scream his name. Then Atlas steps through the opposite gate dressed entirely in black with California swagger and enough tattoos to terrify suburban mothers everywhere.
I step out of the cage, and the second they face off… you can feel it.
Violence. Pure violence waiting to happen.
“PLACE YOUR BETS NOW!” I yell into the mic then ring the bell.
Atlas swings first. Fast as all hell. His fist cracks across Braxton’s jaw hard enough to spray sweat into the air while the crowd loses their collective minds.
Brax stumbles backward, laughing like a lunatic before launching himself right back into the fight.
Then it gets brutal. No technique. No pretty footwork.
Just two monsters trying to cave each other’s faces in.
Atlas knees Braxton in the ribs and I hear the crack.
Shit. That’s going to fucking hurt.
Brax grunts but slams him into the chain-link so hard the entire cage rattles. Blood splatters across the mat before the first round even ends.
The crowd chants like savages.
“brA-XTON!”
“AT-LAS!”
“brA-XTON!”
Round two gets uglier.
Atlas catches Brax with a hook that nearly drops him completely. The crowd gasps while he spits blood onto the mat, grinning through busted lips.
“There he is.” Braxton laughs hoarsely. “Thought California made you soft.” He taunts. and Atlas smirks.
“That’s not what your girlfriend said last night when she was riding my dick.”
Oh shit!
Braxton headbutts him straight in the mouth.
Chaos. Absolute Chaos.
By round four, both guys are drenched in blood and running on pure stubbornness. Atlas nearly takes Braxton down with a chokehold but Brax powers out of it just enough to slam elbow after elbow into his face until the hold finally breaks.
Then comes the finish.
Brax catches Atlas mid-swing and absolutely destroys him with a brutal uppercut that lifts him clean off his feet before slamming him onto the mat.
I ring the bell immediately.
“WINNER!” I scream into the mic, and The Dungeon explodes.
Money flies. People scream. Some girls flash the cage as Brax stands above Atlas, breathing hard while blood pours down both their faces.
Then Atlas starts laughing from the floor. “You still hit like a bitch,” he says, and Brax laughs before hauling him up and hugging him roughly.
“Welcome home, asshole.”
The celebration afterward gets wild fast. Music louder. Alcohol flowing. Everybody is riding the adrenaline high from the fight.
Atlas turns out to actually be cool as hell. California chilled him out a little but not enough to kill the Daggerspoint in him.
“Still can’t believe y’all are staying in this shithole,” he says while downing whiskey beside us at the bar.
“Trauma builds character.” Caspian shrugs, and Atlas snorts.
“Trauma built my therapist a beach house.”
We all laugh harder than we should.
Eventually, Atlas gets quieter though.
“Still looking for Liliana,” he admits softly. “Never stopped.”
The mood shifts instantly because everybody in Daggerspoint knows somebody taken too soon.
I clap his shoulder once. “You’ll find her,” I say as he stares down into his drink.
By the time the fights finally end, the Dungeon smells like blood, sweat, and burnt cash. People stumble out drunk and grinning while cleanup crews drag bodies and broken pride out of the back exits.
Another successful night in Daggerspoint.
I stay long enough to make sure the money’s counted and nobody’s stupid enough to start another fight after the main event.
Then I leave Caspian to lock everything down while I head for the parking lot.
Exhaustion settles heavy in my bones the second I climb onto my bike. The city is quieter now but still dangerous and ugly. Neon lights flicker against the wet pavement while distant sirens echo somewhere far across the town.
Normally, after a night like this, I’d want to go sneak in Firefly’s window or at least attempt too.
Instead, all I’ve got waiting for me tonight is an empty apartment and too many thoughts.
The ride home passes in a blur of cold air and headlights.
By the time I finally crawl into bed, my body feels like dead weight against the mattress. I barely close my eyes before sleep drags me under hard.
Unfortunately, morning still comes. And morning means Flynn, which automatically ruins it.
“Follow Jade today,” he orders while adjusting his cufflinks inside another stupidly expensive SUV.
I lean back against the seat. “You paying extra for stalking now?” I ask, and he ignores me completely.
“Watch who she meets with,” he says.
So that’s exactly what I do.
Most of the day Jade hangs around Whitestone Academy looking bored and dangerous while those three idiots orbit around her like trained attack dogs.
Interesting dynamic.
Especially Jameson.
The senator's son looks at Jade like he’s one bad day away from killing somebody for her.
By nightfall, Jade goes to the Mill, and suddenly, everything clicks.
Fight night. Not Dungeon style.
Something darker.
Invitation-only underground fights hosted by Jade herself.
The Mill feels feral compared to the Dungeon. Less organized. More blood thirsty people around a concrete fighting pit beneath flickering industrial lights while music shakes rusted walls overhead.
Then the announcer calls for Jade and she steps into the pit, eyeing her opponent, then removing her holsters.
And Jesus Christ. She’s terrifying.
The blonde girl fighting her doesn’t stand a chance. Jade moves like violence wrapped in skin.
Fast. Precise. Merciless.
The crowd screams while she taunts her opponent, then the unthinkable happens, and the girl takes out a knife, trying to slash at Jade’s face, but she’s too quick and dances out of her way only to get nicked in the shoulder.
Jade taunts the girl but this chick doesn’t back down. She gives it right back.
My eyes flash to the guys who are watching closely and looking as if this girl makes one wrong move, they will put her down themselves.
The crowd gasps, and my eyes snap back to Jade who is now holding the knife, sinking into the girl's gut, then removes it and slams the girl's face into the dirt.
I laugh, because, goddamn, she’s brutal.
The crowd cheers, and I shake my head, then Jade rears her arm back and sinks the knife into the girl's neck. The blonde is down and silence follows briefly before the crowd erupts louder.
What the fuck?
Jade sways afterward, visibly exhausted, before collapsing. Dario instantly jumps into the pit, lifting her from the ground.
Interesting.
Very fucking interesting.
Then they disappear outside.
I stand by the bar trying hard to stay unseen. Just blending in with the crowd.
Soon after, Dario comes back in and gets into the pit.
I decide then to walk outside to see where the girl of the hour is, and that’s when D’mitri arrives. Devils Incarnates Enforcer.
The atmosphere changes immediately, and I see him pressing a gun to her head roughly and saying something too low for me to hear. I don’t know why it pisses me off. Maybe because she looks trapped. Maybe because I know that look. But I stay hidden anyway.
Then I call Flynn as I watch the Russian prick move towards the Mill like he owns it.
“Something is going down,” I mutter quietly.
“Explain,” Flynn commands.
As I tell him what just fucking happened, I see Jameson suddenly chase the blonde girl I thought was dead into the woods.
What the fuck is happening?
“Wait. Give me one moment,” he growls. “Okay, I got my guy checking the cameras I secretly installed inside the Mill weeks ago,” he says, and I drag my hand over my face.
A few minutes later, Jameson comes out of the woods sans blondie, and I raise a brow, muttering down the line.
“What the fuck is happening?” I whisper, then gravel crunching has my head turning, and I see a black van pull right up to the edge of the treeline and two men climb out wearing what looks like hazmat suits.
Clean up crew.
Jesus Christ.
“I’ll call you back,” Flynn states, and the line goes dead.
What in the actual fuck.
Rumbling has my head snapping behind me as the twins arrive. Both armed and tense. They don’t spot me, thank god, because I really don’t want to have to explain what I’m doing here.
My phone rings, and I answer it.
“Shut it down!” Flynn orders. Simple as that.
Next thing I know, Flynn’s men arrive and have me dressed in all black tactical gear.
One of them hands me a mask with a long beak attached to it like some plague doctor nightmare.
“Seriously?” I deadpan.
But nobody answers me.
Then the lights inside the Mill cut out completely.
Chaos erupts instantly. Smoke bombs launch through shattered windows while screaming echoes everywhere.
Gunshots.
Fighting.
Panic.
I move fast through the darkness, helping get the twins while Dario and Jameson hijack D'mitri in the confusion. Somewhere nearby, Spade disappears, carrying Jade out to safety.
The entire Mill turns into Mayhem within minutes.
By the time we clear out, sirens are already echoing in the distance.
My phone buzzes just as we reach the trucks. Ophelia.
Firefly:
Can we talk?
I stare at the screen exhausted. Bloody. Covered in smoke and adrenaline.
Me:
I’m busy.
Three dots appear instantly.
Firefly:
Please.
Firefly:
Hayden answer me.
Firefly:
I know you’re mad.
Firefly:
Please don’t ignore me.
Then…
Firefly:
I can’t do this with you anymore.
That one punches straight through my ribs. Another text immediately follows.
Firefly:
I miss you.
Then another.
Firefly:
Please say something.
I stare at the messages while dawn slowly creeps over Whitestone, and suddenly, all I can think about… is climbing into bed beside her instead of returning home to cold empty sheets.
I miss you too, Firefly. I miss you, too.