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“Get out,” I growl, my head buried under the uncomfortable pillow of his guest room. I’m exhausted from passing out at around five last night.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been waiting for an explanation since last night. What the hell happened, man? Why couldn’t you go back to your place?”
I let out a deep sigh, rub my eyes, and wince at the sunrays lighting up the room.
Where’s the rain when you need it?
I don’t reply, sitting up straight and stretching. I take my sweet time, yawning, picking up my shirt from the floor and throwing it on. Trev grows impatient, his sighs louder with every second that goes by.
“Remind me why I let you crash here again?”
“Because I’m your leader and you don’t have a choice. That a good enough answer for you?”
He waits for me to look somewhat alive before he speaks again.
“Rumors are spreading, Haze. We’re not dumb. We can barely get a hold of you these days, and you’ve been MIA since the fight—the fight that we lost miserably, by the way.”
“I know. I was there,” I hiss.
“Where have you been?”
“I’ve been busy.” I reach for my phone on the nightstand. It’s dead. Not that I have any messages worth reading on there anyway.
I look up at Trev. His eyes clearly say “I smell bullshit.” I have no clue how I could explain this to my fighters.
What’s up, guys? Yeah, so, the rumors are true. I fucked up big-time. Remember the girl I wanted to make fall in love with me to piss off Kendrick? Well, I kind of, sort of ended up falling for her instead and kind of, sort of lost the fight for her because I’m a whipped little bitch.
I know they suspect that I let Kendrick beat me. I just have to be grateful that it hasn’t been brought up yet.
“Busy? Cut the crap. You’ve been looking for the East side girl. You think we don’t know you’ve been seeing her? We’re not clueless. It was fine when we thought you were just chasing some piece of ass but—”
“But what?”
“Man, it’s more than that this time, and you know it.”
“Says who?”
“Says you and everything you’ve been doing since you met the girl. Some of the guys are even wondering if you lost the fight on purpose.”
There we go.
“You were looking for her, weren’t you… when she got taken?”
“Yes, I was. And no, I didn’t lose the fight on purpose. Not that it matters anyway. She’s gone. She’s not coming back.”
Word travels fast. They might find out I was working with the East side. And if that happens, I have no idea how I’ll justify myself.
“Can’t you see? That’s not the point, Haze. We don’t care that she’s gone. We want to know what you’d be doing if she was still here.”
Stop asking me about her, damn it.
“What kind of stupid question is that? I’d be here, training for the fight on Friday. Where else would I be?”
He stops annoying me—sorry, I mean talking—for a short instant.
“Are you like… in love with her or something?”
I immediately want to punch him in the face. No warning, nothing, just a good old punch right in the nose.
