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“Problem?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, Carter. It doesn’t look good on you.”
His act is so believable that I almost buy it. “Laney, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You fucking jumped Knox. You got him to think he was waiting for me, and then you and a bunch of your friends ambushed him when he was alone. The only thing I can’t figure out is how you managed to text him from my number when my phone never left my pocket.”
He keeps his shoulders squared, showing zero remorse for what he’s done. “Whatever happened to Vaughn, he had coming to him for a long-ass time. I tried to tell you, he’s North Haven trash and leaves nothing but shit wherever he goes. You shouldn’t involve yourself with someone like that.”
“Fuck you,” I growl. “And stay the fuck away from my boyfriend.”
I can see the second my words hit their intended target because Carter rolls his eyes and shuts the door. I don’t know who the he thinks he is, but I’m not going to stand by while he goes and assaults people under some delusion that I belong to him.
I’m walking back to my car when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Savannah’s name flashes across the screen.
“Hey Sav,” I answer. “How’s New York?”
“Incredible, as expected, but I have a favor to ask. Can you pick me up from the airport tonight? Grayson apparently has a thing and can’t.”
“Yeah, no problem. Just send me the flight number so I can track it.”
She sighs in relief. “Thank you so much. Is everything all right? You sound stressed.”
I get in my car and run my fingers through my hair. “I don’t know. Carter managed to send a text to Knox from my number to get him alone. Then he and a bunch of guys jumped him.”
“Carter did?” The shock in her voice is evident. She had no idea.
“Mmhm. I just can’t figure out how he got that text to look like it came from my phone.”
“Honestly? He probably got Wyatt to help him. That kid can do virtually anything with a computer.” Wyatt. Shit. I didn’t even think about that. “So, you and Knox?”
Taking a deep breath, I smile involuntarily. “Yeah. Me and Knox.”
15
KNOX
The thunderous sound of people cheering threatens to make my ears bleed. It’s so loud in here I can hardly concentrate, and yet, it’s exhilarating. Despite my injuries from the shitheads who attacked me last night, Cal determined me fit to fight and wouldn’t give me a pass. He said he already had too much money bet on me that he couldn’t afford to lose. Fucking prick.
From the second this fight started, I could tell my opponent thought he had this in the bag. The bruises on my face and chest made me look weak, but that’s far from the truth. I may be a little sore, sure, but I have more pent-up aggression inside of me than ever before.
If Carter’s dad wasn’t the district attorney, I’d never let him get away with the shit he pulled. It’s one thing to swing at me. That I can understand and even respect. The one thing I can’t respect, however, is having his friends hold me still so I have no chance to fight back. That’s a pussy move, and one that he should pay for—but I know I’d be the one to go to jail while he gets a slap on the wrist. That’s what privilege and entitlement does for you around here.
A fist comes flying at my face, but I dodge it just in time. The second one he throws, I catch in my hand and quickly knee him in the stomach. One of the great things about these fights is that there are no rules. You fight until someone stops moving, doing whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen to you. It’s simple, and gritty, and raw.
The two of us go at it for what feels like hours, and I have to hand it to him—he’s relentless. No matter how hard I swing, he always seems to bounce back. He reminds me of myself, with the drive to win and the frustration to use as fuel to get him there. Unfortunately for him, I’ve got far more experience and much better training. Bottom line, I’m better.
He gets two good hits to my face before I realize I need to end this. If we go any longer, I’ll risk getting tired—and if I lose this fight, there’s no telling what Cal will do to me. It’s not something I’m willing to find out.
Using all the strength I have, I sucker punch him in the stomach, then swing my leg to roundhouse kick him in the head. He goes down like a paperweight—heavy, motionless, out cold. The buzzer sounds, and the crowd goes wild, celebrating my win.
The referee announces my victory, and I climb out of the ring. Grayson hands me a water bottle as I thank him through gasping breaths. I nod to all the people congratulating me as I leave the arena, and the two of us head up to Cal’s office.
The second we walk in the door, he’s already on the phone. He gives me a bright smile, finishing up his conversation and hanging up. I collapse down on the leather couch. I may be getting blood all over his precious furniture, but after a fight like that, I don’t give a fuck.
“Vaughn! My boy!” he greets me. “That was some fight out there tonight. You put on a good show.”
I’m still panting heavily but it’s starting to slow down. “He put up a good defense. That guy would make a good addition to your team. He’s relentless.”
