Chapter 28
WES
It’s only been two days since the crypt, but I already feel the shift.
Not in the everyday stuff– classes are still the same, the weather still sucks, and our apartment is still a battleground of who can drag Ava to their bed first– but there’s a new energy now.
An odd tension, like the sky before a tornado, every molecule charged and just waiting to tear itself apart.
Maybe it’s just been the buildup to fight night.
We’re halfway to Dyersville, Raf riding shotgun with his fists clenched and his chin down, Ford sprawled out in the back with Ava draped over his lap, and me at the wheel.
It snowed last night, the dusting still on the road gleaming under the Escalade’s headlights.
There’s a scout supposedly coming out to watch tonight, and everyone knows what it means if Raf delivers.
Which he will. He’s never lost when it matters.
Raf’s pump-up playlist is blasting through the speakers, the thundering bass rattling the windows.
He’s doing that thing where he zones out completely, running scenarios in his head and bobbing his head every time a new track starts.
If anyone tries to talk to him before a fight, he’ll just snarl or tune you out.
I’ve seen him ignore faculty, cops… even a call from the Invictus when he’s in the zone.
Right now, he’s probably vividly imagining his opponent’s skull caving under his fist, blow by blow.
I don’t blame him. I envy it. I wish I had something that simple to fixate on.
Unfortunately for Raf, Ford is incapable of silence tonight. He’s got his phone in one hand, a bottle of cheap whiskey in the other, and Ava’s bare thighs slung across his knees. He’s running his mouth– half to her, half to himself– his voice just barely cutting through the drums and guitar.
“You ready to see our boy make someone bleed, baby?” he purrs, lips brushing her ear. “You’re not gonna take off running like you did with Travis, are you?”
Ava rolls her eyes, glancing at me in the rearview like she’s checking to see if I’m listening. Of course I am. I always am, especially when it comes to her.
“I can handle it,” she says, twisting in Ford’s lap to face him. “Besides, it’s not like you’re the one stepping in the ring.”
Ford grins, showing off the gold canine he had installed just to piss off his old man.
“That’s right. My job is to look pretty, get drunk, and bang you senseless in the bathroom during intermission.
” He kisses her neck, and I watch her eyes flutter closed, a little shiver running through her.
My hands tighten on the steering wheel, white-knuckled.
“Better fucking not,” Raf mutters, flexing his hands. “Distract me tonight, and you’re a dead man, Ford.”
Ford barks a laugh, as if accepting the challenge.
Ava opens her eyes and catches me staring. “You okay, Wes?” she asks, voice pitched just loud enough to slice through the music.
“Peachy,” I say, flicking my gaze back to the road.
I feel Ford’s grin in the mirror, daring me to start something.
If Raf weren’t sitting next to me, I’d tell him to fuck off.
Maybe I’d even do it, just to see how hard I could punch before breaking his jaw.
But I don’t. Instead, I turn the volume up another notch, rattling the car with the drumbeat.
Ava shifts off Ford’s lap onto the seat beside him, stealing the whiskey bottle from his grip.
She’s wearing a black leather miniskirt, thigh-high boots, and a tank that looks spray-painted onto her body.
I don’t know what kind of self-destructive impulse made her think this was appropriate for an underground fight night, but the second she walked out of her room dressed like that, Ford and I both just…
stopped. I’ve never seen him actually speechless, but for half a minute, the only sound in the apartment was the click of her boots on the hardwood.
Even Raf did a double-take, and he’s immune to hot girls by default.
She pulls her phone out of her purse and checks the screen. “How much longer?” she asks, wincing as she shifts her weight.
“Twenty minutes,” I grumble, and she nods, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear that’s come loose from her ponytail.
Ford reaches over, sliding his hand up her thigh. “Don’t even think about taking that plug out. You need to wear it all night, sweetheart.”
She makes a face, her cheeks flushing pink. “Shut up,” she hisses.
I glance at her in the mirror, then at Ford, hitting the stereo button to turn off the music. “Plug?” I repeat, voice flat.
Ford winks, not even pretending to be embarrassed. “Gotta get her ass ready to take my dick later.” He squeezes her thigh, and Ava slaps his hand away, but not very hard.
My jaw grinds as realization sinks in. “Jesus, Ford. She’s not a fucking toy.”
He laughs again. “That’s rich, coming from the guy who made her suck him off in a public hallway.”
The car goes dead silent. Raf stiffens, turning his head just enough to glare at me out of the corner of his eye. Ava looks down at her lap, fiddling with the hem of her skirt.
I feel the heat rise up my neck. I want to deny it, or make a joke, or even hit the brakes and throw Ford out into a snowbank. Instead, I just stare at the windshield, watching the flakes bounce off the glass. “That was different,” I say, barely above a whisper.
“Sure it was,” Ford sneers. “You did it for her, right? Out of the goodness of your heart.” He leans in and kisses Ava on the cheek. “You hear that, baby? Wes is a goddamn gentleman.”
“Would you two quit your bickering?” Raf growls, his hands flexing on his knees. “I need to stay focused.” He hits the stereo button on the dash, switching it back on.
We fall into silence again, the music swelling to fill it. I take a long breath, focus on the road, and try to ignore the way Ford and Ava keep tangling together in the back seat. But I can’t, not really. I never can.
We roll into Dyersville at a crawl, the warehouse rising ominously in the distance.
I cut the headlights when we turn into the parking lot, tires crunching over gravel as I roll to a stop.
Before I can even shift the gear into park, Raf flings the passenger door open.
He quickly hops out, yanking his gym bag from the floorboard and marching off toward the building, not waiting for us. He never does.
Ava winces as she gets out of the car, shifting awkwardly as the plug makes itself known again. Ford smirks and reaches for her, but I cut between them, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “You good?” I ask, as gently as I can manage.
She nods, smiling up at me. “Yeah. Thanks, Wes.”
Ford snorts and rolls his eyes, but lets it drop for now. “Let’s get this show on the road,” he says, tipping his head in the direction of the warehouse. “I wanna put some money down before the odds shift.”
We start for the entrance, the bouncer stepping aside to let us through without a word.
Once inside, the heat and noise hit like a slap– the air thick with sweat, beer, and the heady promise of violence.
Ford grabs Ava’s hand and immediately starts dragging her toward the betting booth.
I follow, but hang back, keeping an eye on the exits and trying my best not to think about the plug situation.
Ford slaps a wad of bills down on the counter, winking at the girl behind it. “Three grand on my boy,” he says with a grin.
She smiles back at him, her tits spilling out of her top as she leans over the counter. “You sure about that, big guy?” she asks, batting her lashes. “The odds aren’t in his favor tonight.”
Ford waves her off, scoffing a laugh. “Just means I’ll win big.”
She hands him a slip and gives Ava a once-over, eyebrow raised. “You betting, hon?”
Ava shakes her head shyly, backing toward me.
The girl’s attention shifts, eyes locking with mine. “How about you, pretty boy?”
I slide a hand into my pocket, fingering the roll of cash I brought, trying to decide how much to put down. It’s all I’ve got left. “Not sure yet,” I murmur.
Ava leans into my side. “Maybe you should,” she says, voice low and a little breathless.
“Yeah, Wes,” Ford chimes in unhelpfully. “Show your faith in the family.”
I hesitate, but then Ava bats her lashes at me and all sense of rational thought flees my brain. “If you win,” she purrs, “maybe you can use the money to take me out on a real date.”
My pulse skips. She’s kidding– or at least I think she is– but something about it hits different. Like maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be a total disaster if I tried to be a real boyfriend for once.
Fuck it.
I pull the entire roll from my pocket, stepping forward and slapping my cash down on the counter. “Eight grand on Romero.”
“Ooh, big spender,” the girl behind it croons, grabbing the cash, scribbling the numbers down, and handing me a slip.
I tuck it into my pocket, turning to find Ford and Ava already tangled together again. He’s got his arm around her waist, his hand low on her hip, and she’s laughing at something he said. It’s like I’m fucking invisible.
“Bar?” Ford suggests, already steering Ava in that direction.
“Yeah, sure,” I mutter, trailing behind them.
We move through the sea of bodies, the volume inside the warehouse increasing by the second as the crowd thickens.
The bartenders are a pair of dudes tatted up to their necks, moving so fast the bottles blur in their hands.
Ford orders us a round of shots, and we slam them back, the whiskey burning all the way down.
Ava wipes her mouth, eyes shining. “This is insane,” she says, eyes glittering as she looks around. “I love it.”
Ford leans in, licking the taste of whiskey off her lips. “Stick with me, Doll. I’ll show you a good time.”
She shoves him, but not very hard. “Is there a bathroom?” she asks, shifting from foot to foot.
I point, answering before Ford can. “Down that hall, second door on the left. But stick close, I don’t trust anyone here.”
She flashes me a smile and walks away, Ford watching her ass all the way.
Once she’s out of sight, he turns to me, smile dropping away. “You got a problem with me and Ava?” he asks, voice low and dangerous.
I meet his eyes. “Only the stupid fucking games you keep playing with her.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Like you give a shit. You’re just pissed because you’re losing her to me, and you know it.”
I don’t rise to the bait. I just stare him down, letting the silence stretch.
He drains his drink, slams the glass down, and grins. “May the best man win, huh?”
I just grunt in response, turning away and gazing off toward the ring.
Ava returns from the bathroom and squeezes between us, her hands finding both our arms. She’s glowing, the excitement and danger making her look even sexier than usual. Ford pulls her in for another kiss, and I watch, my stomach twisted up with something I don’t want to name.
The first fight gets called, and the crowd surges forward, everyone jockeying for a view of the bloodbath. We grab a spot near the ring, pressed shoulder to shoulder. Ava leans into my side, her hand slipping into mine.
“When’s Raf’s turn?” she asks eagerly.
I squeeze her fingers. “He’s on last. The main event.”
She smiles, and for a second, I can pretend it’s just the two of us, that nothing else matters. That maybe, after tonight, things could be different.
Ford catches me looking and smirks, sliding his other hand around her waist, pulling her close. I let go of her hand and step back, begrudgingly giving them space.
The announcer’s voice booms over the speakers, and the crowd goes wild. I watch the first pair of fighters step onto the mat, circling one another like vultures, sizing each other up.
Ford whispers something in Ava’s ear, and she throws her head back laughing. I don’t turn to look. I just watch the ring, the lights, the swirl of bodies pressed in around it. And I know that if there’s a way to win her, I’m going to find it.
Fight night has only just begun.