“Thanks.”
As he saunters off to his office, I don’t miss his over-the-shoulder glance. I get the sense that he knows I’m lying, which kills me, but I can’t let him think I’m having issues already—not on my first day.
I plug in my earbuds and press play on my go-to playlist for practicing. The music thrashes wildly as I pound the bag with my fists and my feet without mercy. A few of my knuckles are bloody from where the tape slipped, and the tops of my feet will have bruises, but I still don’t stop. All the shit that happened today, coming face to face with the son of a bitch who may have been the one to kill my father, his lingering stares that make me feel exposed and weak, his warnings, navigating a new school and classes, was more difficult than I imagined it would be. Everything slams into me all at once. With each hit, my mind clears a tiny bit more.
Telling Edge to stay away from me probably wasn’t the most brilliant idea, not that he plans to listen, but it was the longest day ever, and I was ready to get out of the Viper’s den. I need to get close to Edge and earn his trust. But I’m not sure I trust myself when we’re next to one another. The warmth that coursed through my core when he was near me was unlike anything I’ve felt before.
Even now, just thinking about him, my body reacts, and there’s a visceral need for contact. It doesn’t help that my mind fucks with me by remembering the titillating way his breath fanned against the side of my neck as he threatened me.If hekept whispering against my sensitive skin, I could have come right there in the hall in front of everyone. That alone is fucked up. Since when did I get off on being someone’s submissive? Fuck!
I slam the bag harder, trying to erase any feelings that might hinder my ability to give Venom what they deserve. I’m so caught up in beating the bag that I don’t notice my uncle until he taps me on the shoulder. I tap the earbud to pause the music.
“Hey, kiddo, are you almost done? You’ve been out here for almost an hour.”
I deliver another punch and kick before dropping to my hands and knees, out of breath and completely spent. “Has it been that long?”
He leans against one of the thick wooden pillars. “Yeah. Looks like you had a lot to get out. Anything you want to talk about?”
Talking isn’t one of my strong points. Despite the thousand things weighing me down, hitting bags and screaming feel more natural lately than talking anything out. What worries me is that if I start screaming, I won’t ever be able to stop, and even when I scream until my throat is raw, everything will be the same as it is now. My dad will still be dead, my mom will still be drowning in her loss, and I’ll still be hunting down a murderer. I close my eyes, knowing I can’t let my rage take over.
When I open them, Uncle Trey still stares at me with sadness and concern. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
I nod. “Yeah. Some days are just harder than others.” There, finally a truth.
He doesn’t say anything to smooth over the hurt or tell me the pain will lessen with time, and he doesn’t try to hug me. He simply kneels next to me. We stay there in silence for several minutes. I love him even more for the quiet support.
He and Dad were close once, so I ask him a loaded question that’s plagued me since I first saw my father compete in the underground fights. “Do you think he did it for the money?”
With absolute respect, he looks directly into my eyes. “No. I don’t.” Uncle Trey lets out a deep sigh. “It wasn’t the money that got him. He got hooked on the thrill. And it eventually caught up to him.”
I’m glad Uncle Trey doesn’t believe my father fought for the money. My dad’s companies were always successful, so I don’t think we needed cash. At least, I never felt that we did. However, in families with considerable wealth, there are often a lot of secrets and greed.
“I never thought it was a good idea for your father to fight in the UG. It’s one thing to fight in tournaments and prove your skills there, to be matched and challenged, but it’s completely different when you’re fighting blind. You don’t know what skills or who you’re going up against. People betting on you as a sport, like you’re some kind of animal…” He shakes his head. “It goes against our training to respect the art of fighting.”
He’s right. I agree with him. But I snuck into more than one of those underground fights, and the thrilling exhilaration of being surrounded by all the energy intoxicated me. If you let it, it will consume you. My dad was proof of that.
Out of nowhere, Uncle Trey laughs. I jerk my head up to him. What the hell could be funny? “His stage name, the Slayer. It was clever. It was what we called each other growing up.”
I smile despite the anger and pain coursing through me. As Uncle Trey gets lost in his memories from long ago, all I can think is that Slayer was slain. The image of his bloodied and helpless body will forever be branded into my brain. I’m not sure if I’m ready to stop talking about what happened with my dad or not. But at least it was an icebreaker with Uncle Trey. The underground fights are a society all of their own, full of secrets,mystery, money, and seduction. I don’t know when, but I know that my father’s final fight won’t be my last. I’ve given myself no choice but to return to the place where it all started.
“You ready to go home?” Uncle Trey asks.
Clearing my head of those memories and intentions, I nod. “Yeah.”
“Pizza tonight?” he suggests.
“Perfect.”
The heat of the shower soothes my aching muscles. I pushed too hard tonight, but it was worth it. The pain is real. The pain is a reminder of why I put up with assholes like Edge.
“Stop thinking about him!” Why am I letting him get under my skin?
I don’t know, Kins, maybe because he’s hot as fuck, and has the same fuck-it-all-to-hell attitude as you?
I growl at my inner self. Telling her to fuck off would be asinine, so I ignore the taunting voice, grab the towel from the hook, and wipe it over the foggy mirror. The black hair still shocks me when I glimpse myself in the streaky reflection. My mom is going to freak out when she sees it. I dry the dark locks with the towel, then wrap it around my body.
My phone buzzes from the bedroom. Luca’s handsome face flashes on the screen, wanting to FaceTime.
My thumb is millimeters from the answer button before remembering I can’t let him see me like this. “Shit!”
