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Panic roots me to the spot. He’s there, again. I jump out of bed and shove my sneakers on while texting him back.
Me: We’ll be there. Just don’t let him get hurt, Levi. Please.
His reply is instant.
Unknown: You’d better hurry.
Chapter Eighteen
Conner
The first crunch of bone under my knuckles instantly helps to tamper down the anger that's been threatening to bubble over all week.
I did my best to avoid her, but I knew it couldn't last forever.
Our very public argument in the school hall plays out in my mind once again.
I'd admitted I loved her, and she just looked at me with furious, confused eyes.
Just like she did back then after our relationship changed forever.
She didn't fight. She just walked away at the first possible opportunity.
Crack.
My knuckles collide with the guy’s jaw.
Oomph.
He groans, and I use his moment of distraction as he spits out a mouthful of blood to plow my fists into his stomach, making him double over in agony.
But it doesn't help.
The images are still there. The rejection still stings just as badly.
This guy isn't enough.
He's too easy.
I need a challenge. Something to distract me from my reality.
After another five minutes, I have the guy on the ground while the crowd around me goes wild, but I don't feel any sense of achievement.
My ribs smart and my jaw aches a little where he got two pathetic hits early on.
But it's not enough.
"Someone sure pissed you off, eh?" Daz asks when he comes over to congratulate me.
"Yeah. I want another," I demand.
"Nah, man. You know the rules."
"Fuck the rules. Give me another fight. A fucking decent one this time. I want someone who knows what they're doing."
"Conner," he warns.
"Darren," I counter, narrowing my eyes at him. "I'd hate to have to tip off the wrong people about where this is happening tonight."
