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“Ella, this is Ronin.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Back at you, sweetheart.” He turns to Alden. “Come by tomorrow evening.”
Alden’s nod is instant. “I’ll be there.”
A cheer goes up from the crowd. There’s no time for me to ask any questions before the main fight begins. The first was child’s play compared to this. The men are older, probably mid to late twenties. They lay into each other and blood flies. It’s brutal and makes my stomach turn, but it’s also exciting.
Aiden beams at me when I join in cheering for the guy who appears to be losing. “You like the underdog?”
“I don’t know either of them, but it looks like he needs the support.”
He sure does. Too bad it doesn’t help. Less than a minute later, he gets knocked out cold. The crowd goes wild, and we’re jostled around. Alden leans over to Ronin. “Keep Ella safe for a quick minute, would you?”
“I got her,” Ronin replies.
“I’ll be right back. Like five minutes tops. Stay right here with him in case things get too wild, okay?”
I’m not thrilled with the idea, but Alden is off before I can answer. He joins a group of guys on the other side of the factory floor. I watch while they talk, and money changes hands again. All night I’ve watched people hand him money.
Alden has always been the boy I can’t resist, the one who never completely leaves my mind. How many years have I daydreamed about him, putting him into many childish reveries. Stuck on a deserted island, running away to live in New York, becoming a famous photographer and travelling the world. He’s always there. Now that my fantasies have taken a sexual turn, he’s still the one I picture.
His hands on me. His lips on me. The first time I made myself come it was from picturing him going down on me. Maybe that’s the reason none of the other boys at school seem to interest me for long. They aren’t him.
Now I’m seeing a different him. He’s grown more wild ever since the day his father left. That’s not new, but I never considered how cutting school and sneaking an occasional drink might lead to more.
Fighting. Selling drugs. Not only gambling, but also helping to organize and run an underground fight club. Something about the whole motorcycle thing seems fishy to me too and I wonder if he really built it or stole it. This isn’t petty stuff and the people he’s working with all seem to be much older than him.
He could get into real trouble.
Legal trouble.
It’s scary, but does it change how I feel about him?
He looks up from his conversation and catches my eye from across the room. The smile I see in my dreams flashes across his face.
No, it doesn’t change how I feel. If anything, his disregard for danger adds to the appeal. Add it to the list of things I love about him. Funny, sweet, compassionate, brave.
He returns to me and takes my hand. “Let’s go.”
We burst out into the night air that seems to have gained weight. “Where are we going?” I ask, when he starts to lead me in the opposite direction of our neighborhood.
“Astor Bridge. Sawyer is throwing a kegger tonight to celebrate his graduation.”
Tori and I both crushed on Sawyer when we were twelve but she’s the one who ended up dating him. At least until a couple of weeks ago. “Did you know he broke up with Tori?” I ask as we cut across a row of backyards to get to the railroad tracks that lead to the bridge and Poke Creek.
“No, I haven’t seen him. But it makes sense. I heard he’s going to college out of state.”
“He is. He wants to be a federal agent.”
Alden laughs, throwing his head back. “Of course he does. He’s the type.”
“The type?”
“To want to be a cop. He’s arrogant. Desperate to have people look up to him and jump when he speaks. I’m sure the thought of wearing a uniform and having authority gets him hard.”
My jaw drops at his description, but he’s not wrong. That’s Sawyer to a tee. I’ve just never heard anyone lay it out like that. He grins down at me when I laugh. “I told Tori she could do better.”
