“You might be right.” Echo nods, eyes darting toward the hallway where the dressing rooms for the fighters are located. “Will he be out soon?”
We’re currently in the intermission period between the fights. “Yep. Should see both fighters soon. Do you want to walk around before everything gets going? I want to get a look at who’s here. Eyes wide open.”
Her gaze locks with mine, and she gives the barest nod. She’s taken today’s events in stride, which pains me. This girl is far too used to shitty things happening, and that pisses me off. It shouldn’t be this way. She should be enjoying her first semester of college. My jaw works to the side. Definitely shouldn’t have to worry that she’s in harm’s way, or worse, that our child is. Regret for how I treated her when I became aware of her presencereaches out and hits me square on the jaw. I’ll probably always feel bad about it. I draw in a cleansing breath. It’ll be okay. I’ll make it up to both of them.
As we circle to the other side of the ring, she tugs on my hand. “Hey, did Beckham say anything more to you about the Megan situation? He’s hiding it well, but he’s pretty upset.”
I chew on the inside of my cheek for a second, thinking back to the short conversation we’d had earlier while Wilder and Echo had been taking care of River. “I asked him if he had any idea where she would have gone, but he didn’t say much. But he seems really fucking unnerved.”
“Could she have been the one to sneak in and put all those images up? If so…sick.”
“Yeah, well, there are all sorts of sick people in this world.” We pause near Bear’s side of the ring, not too far away from where his dad is seated. He’s speaking in low tones, but some of what he’s saying is carrying. I turn my back so it’s not apparent I’m listening. My brow furrows as I hear him say something about a “sure thing.” My interest is definitely piqued. Echo frowns up at me, but I jerk my head ever so slightly. “One sec,” I mouth.
She eases to the side to sneak a peek around me, then moves back, settling her hands on either side of my torso. Faintly, Derek’s whispered words drift to me. “I bet an enormous amount…” I shift my position in time to catch the asshole lift his brows before glancing at the signage that announces the contenders in the big fight. He juts his chin toward…
Wilder’s name.
Not Bear’s.
He’s betting against his own son.
I blink, my lips pressing together as I attempt to sort that fucking weird logic in my head. What a dick—that’s my knee-jerk response. Echo looks equally confused. Rubbing my hand downover my lower face, I consider my options because that slimy motherfucker has gotta know something. Bear doesn’t lose. So, for his father to be betting against him, something’s gotta be wrong.
With River showing up battered and bruised earlier, there has never been a more prudent time for me to give this a shot. I lost my fight. But I’m not losing this time. Chewing thoughtfully on my lip, I put an arm around Echo and slowly move toward the back hallway where there’s an ATM on the end.
“What are we doing?” Echo breathes out, concern slipping over her features.
“I was planning on placing a small bet on Wilder tonight. I’ve never bet before. And I wouldn’t ever bet against him. Because I’m not an asshole. But now, I’ve changed my mind.”
“But you just said you wouldn’t ever bet against him,” Echo hisses low, confusion marring her pretty features.
“You’re misunderstanding me. I haven’t changed my mind about who to bet on. I’m increasing my planned bet.” When I tap in the amount, Echo’s eyes bug out.
“I didn’t know you could withdraw that much at a time.”
I shrug. “This town is run by a bunch of lawless bastards. Of course they have it set up that the ATM here has a stupid-high maximum withdrawal.”
She shakes her head, her brow furrowing. “So, does that mean the authorities do or don’t have any idea what’s happening here?” Her jaw snaps shut, and she rolls her eyes at herself. “Never mind. I get it. They’re all corrupt.”
I tap her nose with my finger. “Bingo, princess. We’re going to take advantage of it right now. Come on.” We hurry over to the line at the betting window. Fortunately, it moves quickly, as we have very little time left before they announce the fighters. I don’t want Wilder to know what I’ve done before he fights. Fuck, if he loses, I’ll never tell him. It won’t matter. But if he comesthrough, the money will more than make up for what I lost last week.
We reach the front of the line, and I pull my wallet from my pocket. With my heart racing, I lay a full $3500 on the counter—the $500 I was planning to bet, plus the $3000 I was able to withdraw. If ever there was a time to bet heavily on my friend, this is it. We’ll hope like fuck it pays off.
The guy keeping the books hands me a receipt, and I tuck it into my wallet. We step to the side just as they announce the five-minute warning before the fight, requesting everyone to take their seats. The guy pulls the betting window closed with a resounding thump.
Bear and Wilder still have yet to emerge from the dressing rooms, so my eyes flick to the OG Bastards again. I don’t trust them. I recognize the cage girl standing near them as another sorority girl named Morgan. She’s something else, purposely showing off her assets to the assholes in charge. I’d be interested in knowing whether she prefers Bear or his daddy because she sure is giving Derek an eyeful of her tits at the moment. Pulling my attention away from them, I duck my head, speaking right next to Echo’s ear so she can hear me over the boisterous noise of the crowd. “I think we should get over to the bench. They’ll be out soon.” She nods in agreement, and I tuck my arm around her to guide her through all the obnoxious fight night fans, but it’s ridiculous. There’s a raucous energy to this crowd that doesn’t bode well.
We’re finally passing behind the OG Bastards on our way to Wilder’s bench when Tristan grumbles to Derek, “Who the fuck was responsible for that shit show? Because that isn’t the way the auction was supposed to have gone down.” He must assume no one is paying attention or simply doesn’t care who overhears.
Either way, once again, I’m listening. I don’t know jack shit about any auction, but Derek holds up a hand and growls, “We’llfigure something else out. Don’t worry. We’ll have her so fucked in the head she’ll never remember anything.”
Tristan speaks quickly behind his hand as he shrugs at his friend. “Yeah, you’re right. Besides, I’ve got her convinced she’s half crazy. And she knows I’ll send her to a psych ward if she doesn’t stop sleepwalking. She’s not going to last much longer. And if she starts to catch on, we’ll just make her disappear, whether through our regular channels or otherwise.”
My heart rate speeds up. What the fucking hell is that about? Whatever it was didn’t sound good. We’ve just edged past them when I spot Wilder coming down the hall with Beckham. Bear is right behind them, alone for now, but he won’t be for long. His guys have to be here somewhere.
A startled cry from Echo has me jerking to a stop. None other than Derek Pierce has turned around, his lips twitching. She’s staring at him, her wrist held in her hand, like he grabbed at her. What the fuck? I put my hands on her shoulders to pull her back against me, but she quickly lifts one hand to stop me. Over the din of the crowd cheering as the contenders enter the room, I can’t make out what Derek says, but he’s leering at Echo in a way that has my skin prickling.
She scowls at him, her face a mixture of white-hot anger, revulsion, and disdain. “I’m sorry, do you want to repeat that?” she shouts over the pandemonium erupting around us.
