Page 17 of These Defiant Souls


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“You were here?”

“I came to get away,” he said cryptically.

“You could have joined us.”

Nate lived in Old Darling Hill and attended DA, but he was good people. There was something about him, a shadow that lingered in his eyes.

“And cramp your style?” His laughter was strained. “Maybe next time.”

An awkward silence descended over us. I didn’t know what to say, and I wasn’t really looking to stick around and make small talk. He obviously sensed it, saying, “I should probably let you get back to it.”

“Yeah. See you around, Miller.”

Nate gave me a small nod, sucking on the end of his blunt like his life depended on it.

It was barely nine, too early to be getting buzzed, but what did I know? People had different ways of coping.

I ran right to the edge of Old Darling Hill, the big houses and perfect lawns visible in the distance. If I followed the street far enough, eventually, it would lead me right to Darling Academy.

Over the years, Nix, Kye, and I had enjoyed playing pranks on their football team, the Devils. Marc Denby, their captain, was a real asshole. They all were. They had everything we didn’t: money, opportunity, and those blue blood genes that kept them out of trouble. But I guess, it occasionally worked in our favor.

Harleigh’s dad had done a good thing for Nix and Jessa, I couldn’t deny that. But he was the exception to the rule.

It’s why I’d told Celeste to stay away. Why I’d looked her in the eye and crushed any hopes she had of having a bit of fun with a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks.

Because I wasn’t that guy.

And she sure as fuck wasn’t that girl.

Celeste was nothing to me.

Nobody.

And it needed to stay that way.

* * *

“You’re a cocky little shit, you know that?” Nix smirked at Max Rowe as the two of them danced around the sparring ring at Buster’s Gym.

“Takes one to know one,” he grinned back, throwing a hard right hook toward Nix. But Nix dodged it with ease, his padded fist flying into Max’s stomach.

“Fuck,” Kye whistled beside me. “That had to hurt.”

I shrugged. “Something tells me the kid likes it.”

Max was… unexpected. He’d shown up a few weeks ago, desperate to start fighting for Bryson. But he was only sixteen and even Brys knew better than to let a kid from Old Darling Hill go on his roster. He agreed to let him train with Nix though. Saw something in him apparently.

From his recent sparring sessions with Nix, I was inclined to agree. I liked to fight as much as the next guy here, but I didn’t have a natural flair for it. It wasn’t in my blood. Not the way it was in Nix’s.

Max’s too if the way he was swinging at my best friend was any indication.

“Holy shit,” someone muttered as Max landed a powerful uppercut to Nix’s jaw. He staggered back against the ropes, rubbing the tender spot.

“I’ll let you have that one,” Nix taunted, shaking it off. But I saw the flash of surprise in his eyes at being bested by a kid two years his junior.

“Let me have it? I fucking got you good.” Max smirked as he helped Nix off the ropes.

“Yeah, yeah, kid. Don’t get too cocky. It was a lucky shot.”

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