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I expect him to lower his gaze, but he doesn’t. Bryce stares into my eyes as he takes an interest in my situation. It’s weird, but I don’t think he’s ever really studied my face before. Unfortunately, he must also see the desperation in my expression. I swallow hard and start to move away. He catches my arm and pulls me back.
“What purse are you looking for?” he asks.
“I need five hundred at least,” I reply evenly.
He frowns. “That’s not a lot of money.”
My face burns with humiliation. It’s money I don’t have, and now Bryce knows it. “I’m short this week.” I’m unable to look him in the eye while I lie. “I need a little extra for school fees, but I won’t have the money until next week.”
Bryce smirks. “Why doesn’t your father pay for it?”
Gritting my teeth, I shake him off my arm and hurry down the steel steps to the main floor. Bryce follows behind, not slowing his steps and almost stepping on the back of my heels as I try to put space between us. The Pit is my space to be real around people who know me, and I know them. We have the same issues and have to do what we need to do to keep ourselves from disappearing into an unforgiving system. Bryce will never get that.
I head for the open metal doors, but I see Justin and Pierce hanging out. They’re dressed down like Bryce in old jeans and T-shirts. Justin has his silky clean hair hidden underneath a worn trucker’s cap, and the pair fit in perfectly as they sweet-talk two sophomore girls from Monarch. Fuck. I make a U-turn before they spot me, giving Bryce’s hand an opportunity to close around my wrist.
The strength in his grip can’t be beaten without a vicious struggle. I don’t want the Monarch crowd seeing me fighting a rich boy in a silly catfight that I’m bound to lose. He hauls me into the restricted area, pitch black and far from the crowd, behind some old equipment lifts. I hop over the used condoms left behind on the floor, but no one’s back here now for a hookup. I shake, wondering if Wyatt’s here with them. I don’t want him seeing me with Bryce back here.
We find a little light in the darkness, and Bryce places his index finger in my face. “Don’t you ever run away from me again,” his eyes narrow as he speaks in tight words, “You are not to embarrass me in public, do you understand?”
I shake my head, blown away by the double standard. “How long do you think I should put up with your shit, Bryce?” Tears of frustration are threatening to appear, and I sniff them back. “You don’t like me, and I hate that prissy school. Why can’t you be decent and ignore me the same way I try to ignore you?”
Bryce straightens to his full height. I’m tall for a girl, but he towers over me. His lips twist into a filthy smirk that makes my body tense up. I should’ve run for the door.
“It’s not necessary to lie about having a father,” he says quietly.
The tears are forgotten as I raise my hand, but he catches it. I got one solid slap in, but he won’t make that mistake again. Bryce steps back, giving me space, and a band of light from a busted window illuminates his face entirely. His blue gaze softens, but his jaw looks like it’s about to snap into pieces.
“I know you’re proud,” he says, “It’s your one redeeming quality. So, I’ll make you a generous deal. I’ll lend you the money at no interest with no due date.”
“Only a sucker believes in free,” I reply sharply, “What do you want from me?”
Bryce releases my wrist, and rubbing the feel of his hand off me, I take a step back. This time, Bryce doesn’t close me in, and I wonder if he can hear my rapid breaths. I can hear his. He looks at me again, but it’s not a look of desire or curiosity. His gaze stays off my body and studies my face shrewdly. He’s coldly judging my worth with a hostile stare and taking inventory of what I can pay back later.
“Look.” I ease past him. “I have to find that girl I’m fighting and maybe sober her up.”
He nods, and I hurry back toward the crowd without him on my heels. Desperately, I look for Ivette, and of course, she’s smashed with a bottle stuck to her mouth like it’s an appendage. She stumbles in the ring with her eyelids barely open, and her posture is limp as she hunches over her shoulders. She didn’t even bother to wrap her hands.
I glance up at Grinder, and he’s amused with my sorry-ass life as if it’s the best joke he’s heard in a long time. Motherfucker. I punch Ivette twice in the gut, and she topples over, barely throwing a punch. It’s a shitstorm in my favor, but I take no pride in winning. The crowd starts hollering like the place is on fire, but I’m no fool. I look down, and Ivette’s breasts have popped out of her tiny sports bra as she lolls around on the ground.
The tears are threatening to show themselves again as I suck my cheeks in hard. It’s frustrating knowing that I was set up to fail. I think about Stonehaven, and what should be an opportunity to get ahead will be fucked because someone says I shouldn’t have it. I needed the money tonight, but I sure as hell won’t take it from Bryce.
Grinder makes me wait beside him while he speaks on his phone. I know my eyes are glassy, but I refuse to cry, not while the whole room can look up and see me. My intense gaze shifts toward the mirror, and I wonder what Bryce and his boys are doing behind the glass. Those two girls are probably giving head to the rich boys as they sip top-shelf liquor and gloat.
I tap Grinder’s shoulder, but he doesn’t end the call. Instead, he reaches in his jean pocket and pulls out fifty dollars, holding it up between his two fingers. I snatch it out of his hand, and he glances over in shock as I turn away. He shoves his phone in his pocket and calls me back.
“Astrid, we didn’t get enough action on this one.” He tries to explain it like he cares. “The crowd is waiting for the big fight.”
“Whatever. Who else is on tonight?” I ask miserably.
“Mask is going up against Crow,” he replies, “I figure it will be cool. You know they both wear all black.”
I frown at his pathetic humor, which doesn’t cheer me up. “Why do I bother to come here?”
“Astrid, I’m sorry, but you were last minute,” he continues, “And Bryce puts in a lot of bets.”
There it is, and I shake my head in disgust. “So, the rich kids are running the Pit now?”
“It’s a lot of cash, Astrid, and they aren’t interested in seeing the girls fight. Not unless it’s sexy, and I know you’d never do that.” Grinder shrugs. “But there is a way. Come, let’s sit down.”
