Page 157 of The Unravelings

Simon leans against the bar, holding up his hand to one of the three bartenders tending the long bar.

“You sure you don’t want any?” Simon asks, peeking over his shoulder at me as I stand beside him.

“Nah, I’m good,” I say above the noise, shaking my head.

There are way more people here this time compared to the last fight night we came to. At least then we could somewhat hear each other and talk. Now, it’s impossible with the noise of the crowd and the music flowing through the speakers. I wonder if it has to do with Malic and Huxley fighting each other since they were a draw the last time. So many new and familiar faces line the crowd as they eagerly await the main fight to enter the ring.

I eye Hux and Mack, sitting at the same table as last time. The same place where Brutus called me out. My ribs still like to remind me of the sucker punches he threw before the fight actually started. Fucker. Speak of the devil. He stands tall beside the table, eyeing the crowd with a snarl. Leaning down, he whispers something in Mack’s ear, and he nods eagerly with a laugh.

Half of me wonders if they’re looking for Oliver again. Like I’d be that stupid to waltz back into this venue and get thrown to the wolves again. Nope. That’s why I’m here as Claire.

I didn’t have time to change my nose or anything drastic. The makeup, lack of contacts, and small shirt were the best I could do on such short notice. Which suits me, because Brutus has been awfully quiet these past few weeks since I knocked him on his ass.

In fact, I’m surprised he was allowed to come back to the Coliseum so quickly with their weird shunning rules and the wall of shame. I guess being friends with Mack and Hux has its perks.

Simon steps back from the bar with a flirty grin, taking a long gulp of the large beer bottle in his hand.

“Shall we enjoy?” he asks, gesturing to the crowd.

I grin. “Yeah. When’s Daniel coming?” I ask as we take a few steps from the bar, side by side.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer,” Simon shouts above the crowd. “He’s excited to see the fights, too. It’s going to be epic, dude!” He darts his eyes all around. “What the fuck…” he says before a large presence looms over us.

I startle at the sight of Mack, standing before us with his arms crossed over his chest. A smirk pulls at the corner of his lips as he takes me in from head to toe with interest.

“Hello,” he says with a slight purr. “You look familiar. Have we met?” He leans in slightly, the stench of booze evident on his breath. He sways where he stands, narrowing his eyes on me. “God, you look like…” He shakes his head, a hint of disappointment coming over him before he straightens his posture and wipes any sort of emotion off his face.

“No,” I say sweetly, batting my eyelashes. “I don’t think we’ve ever met before.”

You’re playing with fire, Olivia. At any second, he could get his wits about him and fucking recognize you for who you are. Olivia. Oliver. Whoever he wants to see. But he doesn’t. Mack forgets all about me and how familiar I look, turning his attention to Simon, who has been standing stiffly beside me.

“Interesting…” he says slowly, shaking his head. “Simon,” he greets again, making Simon’s brows rise into his hairline.

“Mack,” he says back suspiciously.

“Where’s Oliver?” Mack lifts a brow, looking past us. “I’d love a word with him.”

I try not to roll my eyes, but I can’t help myself. “Why’s that? Oliver seems like a good guy,” I interject stupidly, bringing his glazed-over eyes back to me.

“Such a good guy,” Mack sarcastically retorts with a laugh. “I was going to see if he wanted to join Brutus in the ring again. He owes him a rematch.” He smiles sweetly. The same sweet smile I’ve seen in the past when he was up to something stupid. Like now. I’m sure he thinks he can catch Oliver off guard and send him to his death again.

“Owes him?” Now it’s Simon who speaks up, sputtering slightly. “My roommate won against that big bastard fair and square. No rematches needed.” Simon gives Mack a pointed look and takes a quick swig of his drink.

“Sure, sure,” Mack huffs, waving a hand. “Whatever,” he says again, before turning on his toes and marching through the people who part for him easily.

“That was weird,” Simon says, watching Mack leave and turning to me. “You think he realized?”

“That was too close,” I groan, clutching Simon’s arm. “No. He didn’t have a clue. He’s drunk, anyway.” I shrug off the interaction, feeling a tightness in my chest from being so close to him.

There’s something inside Mack. A darkness, I think. A grief he hasn’t been able to shed. I see it now. It’s consuming him bit by bit, and if I don’t find the evidence that they’re innocent, it might swallow him completely before I can tell them who I really am. But I can’t yet. Not until Carter gets a hold of the USB drive and runs it through his systems. I won’t potentially hurt myself by jumping the gun. And that means biting my tongue. No matter how heated a stare Mack gives me from across the room.

“I need another!” Simon declares, finishing off his beer and tossing it into the recycling bin. “I’ll be right back.”

As Simon walks away, another fight is about to begin, with Brutus as the headliner, and, thankfully, Oliver is nowhere in sight or mentioned.

“Okay,” I say with a nod, keeping my eyes trained on the fight.

For a few blissful seconds, I watch the bout by myself, feeling at ease. Despite the loud people around me, yelling at the poor kid named Lukas, who is up against Brutus.