I giggle while he suddenly rolls on top of me, caging me beneath him in the truck bed.
“Take it back.”
“Never,” I whisper, and his smile softens. The kind of smile Hayden only ever gave me.
“You know you’re it for me right?” he whispers. “There’s never gonna be anyone after you,” he says, and my chest aches even inside the dream.
“Promise?” I say as he presses his forehead against mine.
“I love you always,” he says, and just before I wake up crying… I swear I can still feel his heartbeat against mine.
Hayden
“In the end-Linkin Park”
The Dungeon smells like blood, sweat, and bad intentions.
Just how I like it.
Standing in the locker room, I wrap black tape around my knuckles while muffled screams and roaring music shake the concrete walls around me.
Men place bets outside like they’re wagering on dogs instead of people. Somewhere overhead, the crowd erupts as another fighter gets dropped.
The sound almost calms me. Pain makes sense to me now. It’s simple.
But people?
Love?
Hope?
That shit destroys you slower.
I flex my bruised hands once before pulling the tape tighter with my teeth.
Across from me, Harley leans against the lockers scrolling through his phone. His brother, Maverick, walks in and stops when he sees me.
“You’re fighting tonight?” he asks with wide eyes, and I smirk.
“Yep. So place your bets and pray I don’t kill the motherfucker.”
“You nervous?” Harley asks, and I scoff.
“About Augustine?” His eyes lift from his phone.
“About seeing her.”
And that right there shuts me up.
Because yeah, I am.
I’ve spent three years imagining this moment.
Three years picturing Ophelia running into my arms crying because I’m back. Three years replaying every memory of her until they became poison inside my skull.
But the second I saw her at the races… everything changed. Because while I was rotting in Whitestone, she was out here living life. Smiling. Racing. Wearing another man’s ring.
My jaw tightens instantly. “She made her choice,” I say, and Harley snorts.
