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For a second, I start to doubt my plan. Feeding information to the Jackals will probably get the job done when it comes to taking out the Black Roses, but… fuck. Is that the right thing to do anymore?
If I can get the information Paul wants, he and the rest of his gang are going to rain a storm down on the Black Roses. They’ll use whatever I give them to try to destroy the rival gang they’ve clashed with for years, which was what I wanted in the first place.
But what about Rory? What about Levi?
They’re loyal Black Rose members, so they’re involved in this on some level no matter what, but there’s a part of me that wants to protect them. I can’t deny that to myself anymore.
Alone in my room, I can admit I’m starting to have feelings for them. Real feelings. Feelings that make it hard to want them to go down in flames with Sloan and the others. I care about them, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.
But I also want to avenge my father. If it wasn’t for the Black Roses and their bullshit, if it wasn’t for Sloan, then Dad would be fine. He would still be here with me, and I’d be able to hug him and talk to him and none of this would be an issue.
It would be so much easier if they were all pure fucking evil. If they were just killers who didn’t give a shit about what happened to anyone else. When I first got here, I didn’t trust any of them as far as I could throw them, but over time, they got past my guard, and I wish that wasn’t the case. I wish I’d kept them out and never let them into my heart.
That way, it would be so much easier to pull the trigger and walk away, letting it all burn behind me.
19
I get through the week somehow, even though I feel like I’m a mess. Scarlett gives me her worried looks when Levi can’t see, and I try my best to assure her it’s all going to be okay. I have no idea how this is all going to turn out, but I don’t plan on letting any of the Black Roses kill me.
If worse comes to worst, maybe I can disappear or something. With Dad dead, it’s not like I have a lot to stay in Fairview Heights for. My only real friend here is Scar, and she’d definitely support me in running if it kept me alive.
There’s a moment where thoughts of Rory and Levi flash through my head as I consider leaving, but I shove those away. It’s not like I could stay with them anyway, after it’s all said and done, assuming they make it out alive on the other side of the shit I’m trying to start.
And I really don’t want to think about that.
On the weekend, there’s another fight at the same place where my dad fought and won on the night this all started. I haven’t been there since that night, and just thinking about it makes my pulse race.
“We’re all going to go,” Rory explains when he tells me about it.
“‘We all’ meaning you’re invited too, of course,” Levi adds.
“Although…” Rory gives Levi a look before turning his attention back to me. “I can understand if you don’t want to. Considering.”
Considering what happened the last time we were all there together, he means. I remember the way my dad looked when all those men were beating the shit out of him, how even though he’s one of the best fighters in the city, he wasn’t able to fend all of them off when they gan
ged up on him like fucking animals. I remember jumping in to help him and then being pulled away by Levi and Rory.
Adrenaline courses through my veins at the memory, but I breathe through it and refocus on what I need to do. If the guys are going, and they’ve invited me along with them, I can’t waste that opportunity.
There’s no way I’m missing this fight.
“I’ll go,” I tell them. “It’s fine.”
Fine isn’t really the right word. In fact, it’s definitely all wrong for what I’m feeling. But I don’t have a better one, so it’s going to have to do.
Usually, Scarlett is the person I go to fights with, but I don’t invite her to this one. The further she stays away from this mess, the better. So come Friday night, it’s just the four of us walking into the warehouse I know fairly well.
It hurts in a way I should’ve expected, making the same trek through the crowds of people that I did that night, trying to find a clear area to stand in.
Scarlett was good at pushing people out of the way, but being with three tall and imposing men definitely helps clear a path even more easily.
I think about how she saved a place for us while I went down to talk to my dad, teasing him and wishing him luck before the fight. Thinking about how that will never happen again makes an ache form inside my chest, and I have to fight to keep a neutral expression.
The three of them chat with each other while I stand beside them, not really paying attention. I’m so in my own head that I almost miss it when the fight starts, the two opponents squaring off in the ring.
They’re both more lithe than I would have expected, with lean builds that should make them faster than someone more bulky. One of them has dark hair, pulled back into a bun with a shaved side, and the other has close-cropped red hair and eyes that shine with intent.
Clearly he’s fighting to win.
