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Chapter 42
Lotto
Istroked Ari’s hair as the weight of her head rested on my lap. Having her fall asleep like this on me was both a comfort and a poignant reminder of the trust she placed in me. Her breaths were slow and even, the occasional twitch of her fingers suggesting dreams fluttering beneath her eyelids.
This was the first time she had settled in weeks, and I was thrilled to see she was finally getting much-needed rest.
“I fucking hate this island,” Frankie said as he paced the cabin of the ferry we were taking to Heathens Hollow from Seattle.
It wasn’t the most glamorous way to travel, since most people were flying in helicopters or taking their yachts through the Puget Sound, but it fit within our strict budget. Until Bones started winning more fights, the four of us were all in agreement on one thing—tightening our belts.
“It’s the most lucrative fight of the season,” I said, still caressing Ari’s platinum hair as I spoke.
Frankie glanced over his shoulder at Ari, and his scowl softened. “We shouldn’t be exposing her to this place.”
Frankie’s concern for Ari was a mirror of my own.
“Good luck telling her that,” Bones added. “She refuses to be left behind. You know how stubborn she can get.”
Frankie grunted in response and resumed his pacing, his boots thumping rhythmically against the worn wooden planks of the ferry’s floor.
The ferry’s engine droned on, a monotonous backdrop to Frankie’s pacing. Just outside the grimy ferry windows, a shroud of fog clung to the surface of the sound, obscuring our view of the water and anything beyond. It gave off an eerie feeling, as if we were adrift in some otherworldly place rather than just a few miles from Seattle.
“You know we want the same thing as you when it comes to Ari, right?” I said to Frankie.
He huffed. “I doubt it. You have no idea what I want.”
“It’s clear you want to protect her. Protect her gym.”
He nodded. “I swore to her father I would.” Frankie stopped pacing and sat down heavily across from us, the old seat creaking under his weight.
“We want the same thing,” Bones said, looking at Ari as he spoke.
“Then we shouldn’t have agreed to this event. I know it’s a lot of money, but I’m second guessing this decision. Heathens Hollow is different from all the rest. This venue has always been more fucked up than the others. You both know it.” Frankie lowered his voice to a gravelly whisper, as if the ferry itself might be listening in. “The folks here... they don’t play by the same rules. It’s not just about the fight; it’s about the spectacle, the chaos of it.”
I exchanged a look with Bones. He was right; Heathens Hollow had a reputation that made even seasoned fighters think twice before stepping into the cage. The fights were brutal, often pushing beyond the limits of what was considered legal or sane elsewhere. But it was also where legends were made—and where the purse was big enough to keep Ari’s gym running for another year.
“We know,” I said to Frankie, “but Bones is ready for this. We’ve been training non-stop for months. Stop getting cold feet.”
Frankie looked at Bones. “The Godwins, who are hosting it, may want you dead, you know. You may not leave this island in one piece.”
Bones shrugged. “If they wanted me dead, they would have already done it.” He leaned back and crossed his arms against his chest. “I think they like the spectacle my name is going to bring.”
Frankie rubbed his stubbled chin, a nervous habit he fell into whenever the odds seemed insurmountable. Ari shifted in her sleep, her brow furrowing momentarily before smoothing out again.
“The Godwins or not,” Frankie muttered, “it’s the crowd that scares me. They’re like sharks that smell blood. One wrong move, and they’ll turn on you.”
As the ferry continued its steady chug toward Heathens Hollow, Ari stirred slightly in her sleep. Her hand found mine and grasped it gently. Whether it was a subconscious plea for comfort, or an accidental brush of fingers, it didn’t matter; it only affirmed my resolve.
“I want you to stay away from Nero,” Frankie said to Bones and then to me. “I don’t want the Godwins to see you speaking to him for any reason. I’ll handle him if I have to, but you don’t even tell him to go fuck himself. We don’t need the optics.”
Bones nodded. “You’re right. I’ll steer clear of Nero no matter what. I’ll let you handle it however you choose.”
“We need to walk into that venue looking like we have our shit together,” Frankie added. “This is our one and only shot. You both have to prove you aren’t a fuck-up. I have to prove I’m not just a washed-up fighter, and Ari has to prove she can keep her father’s legacy alive and well.”
