7. Zela
The high of my win buzzes beneath my skin as I head out the back door. Reed waits as he always does, with a smile on his face, but I can’t seem to muster one in return.
His smile drops as he takes a good look at me, and I’m not sure what he sees on my face or how he seems to understand it, but he does.
“Do you need a ride?” he offers, walking with me out into the rainy night without hesitation.
My steps falter, surprised by his offer.
“No, I’ll be fine.” I force a smile in an attempt to reassure him. He doesn’t buy it; I can see it in his eyes, but he also doesn’t push.
“Call me if you need me,” he says, his voice stern with a demand I’ve never had directed at me as he holds out a card.
For a moment, I debate taking it, but there’s no harm in me having his number.
I’m sure I’ll never use it, but I know it will make him feel better.
I take the card and quickly tuck it into my pocket before the rain can destroy it.
With a quick nod, I take off down the long gravel drive and back into town.
Reed doesn’t follow me, but I can feel his eyes on me until I turn back onto the main road and out of sight.
By the time I reach the bus, I’m soaked through and shivering. The chill hadn’t been bad earlier, but between the rain and nightfall, it's drastically colder.
Thankfully, my sweater was dry and in my bag since I hadn’t taken the time to throw it on before I left, but even that does little to fight off the cold when I slip it on as I board the bus. My teeth chatter the whole ride home.
The bus is thankfully empty, except for one old man and the driver.
I unbraid my hair and stuff my extensions in my bag to deal with later.
I’d pulled off my mask on my walk to the bus after I was out of Reed’s sight.
All that's left is taking out my contacts, which is easy enough after years of wearing them.
As nice as having a dry sweater is, it doesn’t stay that way for long. The bus rolls up to my stop, and I swear the rain is coming down even harder now than it was before.
Damn it. I just need to get home, take a hot shower, and wash off the feel of their eyes on me.
Usually, being in the ring, I’m able to block out the rest of the world.
I know there are hundreds of people watching me; I’m the entertainment.
But I’ve never felt it like I did today.
I’d never even noticed them before, but clearly they noticed me.
The way Kolson looked at me had me on edge for the rest of the night.
I could feel his eyes all but burning a trail over my skin, and he wasn’t the only one.
It was beyond distracting, and I blame him for how many fucking rounds I had to go. My opponent tonight wasn’t anything special. I’d beaten better in less time.
Even after I was announced as tonight’s champion, all I could think about was getting out of there, away from their eyes.
Too bad there wasn’t any real way to do that. Even running back to the house meant they would be there, but at least I would face them as Zela. I liked my odds against them better as their soon-to-be stepsister than I did as Vixen.
The guys' cars are still gone when I make my way up the drive, and the lights are mostly off. I thank my lucky stars, but I keep moving; just because they aren’t here yet doesn’t mean they won’t pull up any second now.
Anxiety spikes my heart rate as I move around back to the sliding glass door I left unlocked.
Diane had given me a key, but it was only for the front door, which of course had one of those doorbell cameras.
I don’t care if Dad knows I’m coming home late.
I’m an adult, and he might not like it, but I know he’ll respect it.
No, I don’t want Kolson and his brothers to be able to keep tabs on me, at least as much as I can help it.
I hate to admit it, but the signs are all there. If they put it all together, they’ll have no problem seeing I’m Vixen, which is why I need to do everything I can to keep them off my trail.
I’d contemplated going on hiatus until after graduation. I have more than enough money saved, and while they wouldn’t like it, I’m one of the few fighters they don’t own.
Unfortunately, I don’t think that’s actually an option. The fights took a break for a month while they moved to a new building, and I almost lost my mind. I was ready to crawl out of my skin, and as much as I hate to admit it again, I’d had to go back on my pills.
I'd gone over a year without them, but with no outlet, I’d been so close to the edge. My nightmares were back; my skin crawled just being around people, let alone if they touched me. The scent of his cologne was everywhere, on everyone, but especially on my male professors.
I was losing it, and there was nothing I could do about it because the only person I’d ever told about my condition was gone, and there was no way I was about to burden my dad with my crazy ass. Not when he just finally got his life together and has a chance to be happy.
I hadn’t expected Dad or Diane to be up. It’s just after eleven, and Dad has to work tomorrow, so it would make sense for them to be in bed, but I still let out a sigh of relief as I walk through the back door and up to my room.
The second I make it into my room, I’m peeling my clothes off, making a beeline to my shower, in desperate need of the warmth I know it will give me.
I toss my bag on the ground next to my bed to deal with after I can feel my damn toes again. My clothes are wet enough that I have to peel them off like a second skin. I toss my shorts in the sink to avoid them making a puddle, but my sports bra is giving me a real fight.
“Fuck it,” I mumble to myself, annoyed and cold and so fucking over this day that I simply get in the shower with it still on.
The warm water burns for a moment, but I ignore the sting, welcoming it over the numb feeling that I’d had just moments ago.
I stand in the shower, thawing out for so long that the whole bathroom fills with steam, fogging up the glass on the shower before I finally make myself move to take off my sports bra. It’s a lot easier with feeling in my fingers, that’s for sure.
By the time I’m done washing, I’m surprised there's any hot water left. In our apartment, the water got lukewarm at best, and while the house had hot water, it only lasted six minutes. I was good with cold because I was used to it, but I often used those six minutes to help me relax after a fight.
Wrapping a towel around my body, I swear I almost melt from how damn soft it is—nothing like the scratchy old ones we’ve always had.
I let my hair hang loose, dripping all over as I make my way out and into my room to grab clothes.
I took a nasty hit to my side and my head tonight, so the idea of wrapping my hair up in a towel sounds terrible.
“Fucking hell!” I shriek, my earlier concern with waking anyone forgotten when I walk out, and almost slam right into Kolson.
He stands just outside my bathroom door, staring down at me. He makes no move to step away, nor does he apologize for scaring me half to death. Though I can’t say I’m surprised, somehow, I don’t think Kolson is the type to apologize.
My heart hammers in my chest as I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t; instead, his eyes rake over me, much the way they did when I was in The Pit tonight.
I’d been in too much of a rush to get warm to grab clothes before, but now, standing in nothing but a towel in front of him, I regret that very much. The feel of his eyes is no less unsettling now than it was before; the only difference is that he’s much closer now, and without an audience.
“What do you want, Kolson?” I force the words out, fighting the need to back up and close myself in the bathroom. I want nothing more than to have the door standing between us right now, but that will only make this worse.
I can’t cower to him.
“Where were you?” His tone is sharp and demanding, as if I owe him something.
“I told you I study on Saturdays.”
I move to walk around him, but I only make it two steps before his hand closes around my arm, pulling me to a stop.
“And I told you that, as a part of this family, you will be at The Pit when I tell you to be. I am the head of this family, and you will listen to me.”
His fingers grip my arm hard enough to hold me, but not hard enough to hurt, yet.
Don’t punch him.
If this were anyone else, I would have already decked him. I’ve hit people for less, but this is different.
I don’t want to mess with Dad's happiness, not to mention I don’t need him sniffing around too close to my secret, and that could definitely give him a hint.
Instead, I take a deep breath before turning to face him.
“I will not jeopardize my future because of your little fight club. You might not need college, but I do.” I force out the words with a false sweetness, but I know it doesn’t matter how I say them. My face tells him exactly how I feel. It always does.
I yank my arm from his grip. His nails scrape my skin, but I don’t feel it right now. I have no doubt it will sting later, but right now I’m too keyed up.
Without looking back, I walk to my dresser and grab my clothes before making my way back to the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind me. I’d hoped to prove a point, give him a metaphorical middle finger, if you will, but the second the door falls closed, my anxiety spikes.
My bag is out there.
How had I been so stupid to leave it out? I’d thought this room could be my safe haven, but I know better.
Nothing is safe. I learned that lesson a long time ago, yet somehow it’s still coming back to bite me in the ass.
My vision swims, and I focus on my breathing, slowly inhaling for five seconds before exhaling the same way, until my panic begins to settle and my vision clears.
Yet another thing I can thank Ozy for. I’d suffered from terrible panic attacks when I was younger, ever since the incident. He’d been the one to teach me to focus on my breathing. We’d tried a few coping mechanisms he’d looked into at the library, but that was the only one that worked.
Well, there was one other way, but it wasn’t available anymore.
Fuck, please let him leave without snooping around my stuff. I’m not sure who I’m praying to. I gave up believing in any higher power a long time ago, but I’m desperate right now.
I get dressed as fast as I can, throwing a brush through my hair, only to stand in front of the door and count to one hundred before I open it. I don’t want to come out in a rush and have Kolson thinking I’m trying to hide something, even though that’s exactly what I’m doing.
Yanking the door open, I sag in relief when I sweep the area and find it empty, exactly how I left it.
My bag still lies on the ground, and I hurry to scoop it up and toss it onto my bed.
I’m about to open it when I think better of it; paranoia getting the better of me.
Instead, I drop to the floor to check under my bed, then check my closet.
Once I’m satisfied that I’m alone, I run to my door and flip the lock before heading back to the bed to check my bag.
Everything looks like it should; nothing looks like it was gone through, and honestly, I don’t think Kolson is the type to stay quiet. If he found out who I am, that I fight for him, and that I’m the object of his and his brothers' fantasies…
No, there’s no way he would just walk away knowing that. However, I don’t love the thought of what he would do instead.
Nope, I’m crazy enough all on my own; I don’t need more crazy in my life, no matter how good-looking they are.
Satisfied that my identity is safe, I grab my bag and head into the bathroom, shoving it to the back of the closet behind the door, which is full of towels and not much else.
I let the closet door fall closed. Pressing my back against it, I slide down to sit on the ground as I try to get myself under control.
I can’t afford to make stupid mistakes, not with them so close.
I push to my feet and wander out to my bed, the weight of everything crashing down on me and pulling me under before I can even crawl under the covers.