25. Reed
Zela.
That girl is going to be the death of me.
She isn’t the little girl that was Ozy’s shadow all those years ago; she’s a woman now, lethal and sexy as fuck.
I’d been in shock when she texted, but I’d given her my number a few times now. I knew she grew up in shit, and the first time I hoped, at the very least, that she would call if she needed help.
Of course, she didn’t. Zela never wanted to need anyone, especially not after what Ozy did, the bastard.
I mean, I got it, but still, a dick thing to do when he knew damn well that she was in love with him.
He swore she would get over it, get over him, and all but forget he ever existed. She was young and had a whole life ahead of her.
God, he was so wrong.
I saw it every time I mentioned him, the way she flinched as if just the sound of his name physically pained her.
It made me want to repay the favor on his damn face.
I don’t think he expected her to really make it like she had, either, and being here, it’s probably a lot harder to let go of his memory. To his credit, I never would have guessed she’d become the undefeated female champ here either. At first, she was lucky to finish a fight conscious.
Ozy asked me to look out for Zela; there wasn’t a Vixen back then. Now I worry there might be more Vixen than Zela left. He’d asked me to keep her safe, and while I did that physically, that might not have been enough.
Maybe Ozy isn’t the only one in need of an ass-whooping.
The urge to take her and run rides me as I try to even just get a peek at what her life is now.
The house she and her father used to rent sits empty, and for a little while there, I was worried she was gone.
She took her sweet time coming to The Pit, and I never thought to ask, but I don’t remember giving her the new location.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as I watch Vixen enter The Pit opposite Widow.
“Come on, kid, beat her annoying ass,” I whisper over the sounds of screams around me. People pack the place, up in the bleachers, looking down, or watching the screens that are all over the room for better angles.
It feels packed compared to the old building, but we're only at about half capacity. Next week's fight is sold out, and I can’t even imagine what that will look like, let alone sound like.
For the next half hour, I alternate between watching the fight and scanning the crowd to make sure everyone is behaving.
Or behaving as well as a bunch of drunk, violence-seeking assholes can, at least. I don’t miss the nasty hit Vixen takes to the side of the head, and though I can’t hear them, I see Widow’s mouth flapping her usual BS with the opening in her mask.
“Come on, Vix, don’t let her get to you.”
It takes a little while, but she’s always been down for the long game; stamina is something she has always had, and eventually she learned to use that to her advantage.
Another ten minutes and Vixen has her on the mat, making the crowd lose their minds, deafening shouts and whistles, but as I look down at her, I know she doesn’t hear a bit of it, too lost in her thoughts.
I move through the crowd and shout to Warren, my second, giving him the signal that the pit is clear before I head after Zela.
If I didn’t need this job to keep an eye on her, I would have said fuck it. I saw her leave. Who cares about Widow…
Not me, that’s for sure.
If you ask me, Vix should have hit her harder, but whatever.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and usually I would ignore it. People rarely text me, and none of them are people I'd jump to talk to.
Until a few days ago, that is.
Zela's name lights up my screen, and try as I might, I can’t keep my lips from curling up in a smile as I read her message.
Took a hit, and I’m hungry. Aren’t you supposed to be here to make it all better, or did I scare you away?
Fuck, this girl is going to be the death of me.
She did take a hit, though, and while I should have kept it to myself, I hit send before I even really think it through.
I hadn’t heard back from her since my last text, and I’d tossed and turned a good portion of the night, worried she would never talk to me again.
I’ll take bratty Zela, and I’ll say thank you, and if she gives me the chance, I’ll never let her go. She’s faced more than a girl her age should have, and that’s just from what I know. I’m sure there’s more she never shared, especially since Ozy left.
She met her demons and fought them; she deserves to be safe and cared for, and judging by the texts and the fact that she had a mix-up with some blood, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that’s not what's happening.
“Reed!” If it were anyone else, I would have kept walking, but I’d prefer to keep this job, and Kolson is the boss.
“What’s up, boss?” I call back as I make my way through the crowd over to the steps he’s currently coming down.
“We're leaving. I trust you can handle shutting everything down?”
He hardly looks at me, but that’s not too far out of the ordinary. Ever since his old man passed, the kid's been running himself into the ground in an attempt to make everything the best it can be.
He’s done a damn good job, too. The Pit has never been busier and is attracting attention from a lot more than just locals. People travel from different states to watch these fights now, to watch her.
“Of course,” I tell him with a nod as Jace all but skips down after him with a smile on his face that unsettles me. Kid’s got screws missing, not just loose.
Sensing him at his back, Kol turns and meets his gaze. “Isaac’s grabbing Ze. Grab the car and meet him in the back to grab her. I need to talk to two of our sponsors for next week before we go.”
Neither of them gives me so much as another look as they move to do what they need. It’s just as well because if they did, they would see that I’m spiraling.
Ze isn’t a crazy nickname, but it’s way less common for a girl, and what are the odds of another girl here tonight…
No, that's crazy. I would know if they took an interest in her, right?
The moving, their new obsession with a sister I had yet to see. I’d overheard Isaac and Kolson talking about how she was busy at school on Saturdays.
Or was she lying to keep them off her back?
Fuck.
I run, shoving my way through groups of people, unseeing of the people around me, uncaring of their shouts and curses that follow me as I beg the universe to let me be wrong.
“Vixen!” I shout as I burst into the back room, my eyes frantically bouncing around. Her bag is still here.
Maybe she went to the bathroom?
I run and check before checking the weight room down the hall and everything in between, but she’s not here.
Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I stand, spinning in a circle as I try to think of what to do, how to find her and save her from them.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I pull up my texts with Zela and press the call button.
“Come on, Vix, pick up, kid.”
The shrill sound of her ringtone echoes off the walls behind me, and I spin to find her phone on the ground by the door.
Fuck.