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Chapter 9
Astrid
Another night, another fight. On Friday, our underground club, hidden in the back of a mega-retail space, is pulsating with activity as shouting, partying people watch six top fighters in three separate rings square off. It’s standing room only, and the word is spreading that the Monarchs are paying out top dollar for talented fighters who have legit skills and can put on a show that attracts a big crowd.
Ace takes on an inked MMA fighter in the center ring as spectators gather around the newly installed chain-link fences. Fingers clutch the metal barrier as voices scream out for a righteous smackdown. The two men jab and dance until the fight takes on devastating speed as limbs flash so fast the action blurs in front of our eyes. Ace takes the newcomer down in a scorching fight as the crowd hoots and hollers, shaking their fists in satisfaction that their pick won. Ace smiles broadly and lifts his arms in victory because the purse is generous tonight. Inked pats Ace on the back, and they shake hands like professionals. Then Grinder slips Inked some bills, so he’ll come back.
I grin at what I’ve just seen because that’s the atmosphere I want in our club. Contentment finally feels achieved. I turn away and walk through people milling about and check that everything is as it should be. It might be a rough gig to fight for cash, but it gives people a chance to earn the big money they can’t get quickly on any other job. My phone vibrates in my dress pocket, and it’s a short message from Nova.
Nova: He’s here. Be brave.
I put my phone away, and boom, I look up and see Wyatt. He strolls through the club, owning the place I built with my boldness, and I shake my head. Monarchs slap his open palm and clamp a hand on his shoulder in brotherhood. They trust him more than me. I’m the ruling class in my humble home because it’s hard to go back once you’ve gone. I’m caught between the two neighborhoods, and the only difference is wealth, but they sense it. They know if I could make Rockingham work, I’d never return to Weymouth again. Who would?
Wyatt spots me through the crowd, and my breath catches like I haven’t seen something so hot in person before. I’m such a fucktard sometimes; it makes me sick. I put on a severe face as he strolls up to me. Let him work if he wants to see me smile. But something’s wrong besides us, and I can feel it as my skin prickles under his sharp gaze. I don’t know if I can handle his intensity right now.
“We need to talk,” he demands. Without waiting for my answer, Wyatt walks off as if I should follow.
“Maybe later. I’m busy,” I reply, turning in the opposite direction.
He changes direction and walks beside me. “It’s not a game, and it has to be now.”
Wyatt grabs my forearm and tugs me toward an empty corner near a trash can filled with empties. People glance over as I yelp with surprise. I wasn’t expecting him to grab me in front of the Monarchs. His rough actions are noticed by a small group, waiting by the first ring for the fight to begin. They look over with interest, but they’re not concerned enough to ask if I’m in trouble. One by one, they turn away because Wyatt belongs more than I do, and they won’t question him.
He boxes me in against the wall, and I stare into his wild eyes. What if I don’t want to hear what he has to say to me? But I don’t have to listen to it. I slip underneath his arms and walk away swiftly. My flat shoes click against the concrete floor as I haul ass toward one of my bouncers. But Wyatt is relentless as he catches my arm and holds me in place.
“Astrid, you need to listen to me now.”
People are watching us openly, but my need to flee outweighs my aversion to being embarrassed.
I speak in a calm, forced voice. “Let go of my fucking arm and pretend I’m invisible like you usually do.”
Serenely, Nova walks up from behind us and taps Wyatt on the shoulder. He releases my arm instantly, and only Nova can get that result with so little effort. She leads the way toward the entrance door and pushes it open. The metal door clinks as the cold night air rushes in.
“Not in here, you two,” she states with authority, “Outside, unless you want me to book you in the center ring and sell tickets.”
Teeny watches Nova as we step outside and away from the door. She smiles at him as she closes it but not before giving us side-eye. Teeny smirks, and though I know I look pissed, he takes his cues from Nova. I won’t blame him for listening if Wyatt and I stand too close, so we walk away through the parking lot. His job must be boring to stand around outside and watch the scenery on the highway. Teeny told me once he doesn’t mind being bored, and it’s better than breaking up a fight between drunks.
I scowl harder as I hug my arms, and the goose bumps rise on my cold skin. My coat is warm, toasty, and inside. It’s too chilly to have a long discussion out here in view of a noisy highway. I walk past the parking lot and lean my butt against a jumped-up Ford Focus parked on the grass.
“What do you want to say to me, Wyatt?” And instantly I’m sorry for the tone when he sighs.
Wyatt stares off toward the highway, and a hint of regret appears in his eyes. He blurts it out as if it might hurt less if it’s a sharp blow. “Justin’s been sleeping around, and you needed to know that.”
“Did I need to know?” I ask, smiling sarcastically, “We had a disagreement, and I haven’t talked to him lately. I guess it’s okay if he wants to see someone else. We’re not exclusive.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “That’s not the situation. You don’t know this girl, and she’s not from school. And you don’t want an STD.”
At first, I don’t understand, but then I think about what I saw at the Pit when Nova showed me how much it had changed. My skin still crawls thinking about it, and it rises up again. I’m not a puritan, but I do have limits. I’d rather try certain positions in private.
“Well, thanks for telling me that Justin is being a perv just like his father.” I lean off the car, ready to march away.
“That’s it?” he asks in awe, “You aren’t very angry with him?”
“No, I’m not, but you only told me because you’re jealous.”
He glares at me like I just proved I’m mad. “I have no reason to be jealous of him.”
I take it personally though I shouldn’t. Wyatt frustrates me with his coolness, and I want to slap someone, but I kick the tire on the car instead.
