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Chapter 6
Astrid
We receive word from our street team that there’s a demand for middle-of-the-week fights. So, being entrepreneurs, Nova and I immediately set one up for Tuesday and post a cryptic blast on Insta that the Monarchs will definitely understand.
Tuesday after school, Derick and I meet at the rental to set up and hang a new sign on the window. A huge Monarch butterfly based on my design is painted in black ink on six-by-six green paper that covers the entire window. Above and below are the words “coming soon.” But we’re already here.
“How many people do you think will show up?” I ask him as we step outside to admire the handiwork through the plate glass window.
Derick scratches his chin. “The parking lot is filling up. We should hire another bouncer. Did Grinder contact his friend on the force?”
“They’re not that tight, and he said the guy’s an admin. You think we’ll have problems?” I ask.
“It’s not a used car dealership.” He doesn’t need to explain as his voice trails off. The parking lot was almost filled over the weekend and is bound to be noticed eventually.
I send a text to Grinder asking for an update. “Maybe we should start a legit business as a cover.”
Derick nods his head slowly. “We could say it’s a gym. It would be believable.”
“What are you going to do after graduation?” I ask him.
He shrugs his shoulders. “I’m definitely leaving Weymouth. I have no intentions of living and dying here. Maybe New York or the Carolinas. How about you, now that you’re rich?”
“I’m not as rich as you think. My life hasn’t changed much—same shit, different school. Instead of broke-ass beggars, I’m dealing with rich ones.”
“Don’t let it get to you, Astrid.”
“I’m not.”
“You sure? ’Cause your bottom lip is stiff enough to cut. He probably likes you, but he’s acting difficult to test you.”
“Who likes me? What did Nova tell you?”
Derick laughs. “Your face tells all, girl. You’re sweating someone because if you weren’t, you wouldn’t look so put out.”
“I am an observer of people. Especially my favorite ones.”
Derick and I hang out in the retail end of the space, discussing how we could make this place look like a legit gym. We spend the time before the spectators show up sketching out a rough plan. He points out that dance and martial arts studios require little equipment. I get his point. I don’t want to spend all of my money.
We head into the back to change into our gear. It was Derick’s idea to walk around looking classy. He looks impressive in a vintage rocker look from when old bands used to dress in suits and ties. “We can’t blend in because that’s not what we are. We are better, or we wouldn’t be able to pull this off. It could really work, you know,” he says, knotting his slim black tie.
“Yeah, it’s giving me chills,” I reply, tugging the zipper of my dress closed. All my club dresses are black and stop at the knees. It’s corny, but Derick is right. We do need to stand out in the place, so why not look like businesspeople?
Ace is the unofficial member of our team who directs the scheduled fighters to the changing area. Spectators stop him and ask questions about seating, and he stops shit before it starts. The vibe in the club is good as everyone behaves. The rules are posted on the wall in big block letters. No brawling, no side bets, no hassles, or you’re gone. Ace grabs a guy by the collar, but he doesn’t kick him out. He shakes him a few times, and the guy swears he’ll behave if he can stay. No one wants to miss the fights.
Nova walks past Ace, patting him on the shoulder and tucking some bills in his hand. He smiles at her, and when he sees me, he nods. I nod back without smiling. He wanted to punch Pierce in the face when he had the chance, and I took the opportunity away.
I stand beside Nova. “Ace and I aren’t close, which doesn’t bother me,” I tell her.
“You left Weymouth when he came on the scene,” she explains. “He sees you and thinks Stonehaven. I told him you’re not like that. You remember your people.”
I sigh, rolling my eyes. “Great. Funny how all your life you can do great things, and then you fuck up once, and that’s all they remember you for.”
Nova laughs. “And you’re scowling like you want to beat someone up. We are pulling in the money. But smiles are avoiding your pretty face. I guess those boys aren’t making you happy.”
“They’ll barely speak to me after the weekend. I don’t blame them, so fuck them. I got my own life to deal with. To get a grip on. This is what I want.”
I move around the fight club that looks like what it is. A generic concrete building space with dim lights and circles painted on the floor where people beat each other senseless for cash.
