Tyler and I sat next to each other, and it didn’t take long to notice that some of the boys in the other class liked to steal his lunch. When I went looking for a fight, Tyler was there, telling the teachers the other ones started it.
Immediate best friends.
I joined the lacrosse team with him in sixth grade.
He was dragged into the world of underground fighting because of me.
I slept on his couch for a week in tenth grade when my mom was in the hospital and my dad sat in jail. He beat her so badly there was no lie big enough to cover the truth.
My only regret is that I wasn’t there to save her from it in the first place.
But then I got accepted to Shadow Valley U on a lacrosse scholarship, and Tyler washappyfor me. He got a partial scholarship, and the coach liked him just fine, which he said was better than nothing.
So, here we are.
Except, he’s living with his boyfriend this year, and I’m stuck withScarlett Wallace. The bane of my existence. Her pinched expression–from the wedding, yes, but also from two days ago–is etched into my mind.
And somehow, after I slammed the door in her face, I’ve managed to avoid all signs of her.
Her dad did a shit job talking me off the ledge too. He just mentioned her needing a change of scenery, someone to look out for her,blah, blah, blah. All I heard was that the fancy Ivy League school she attended was getting boring.
She wants to slum it with the heathens of SVU for the next year and a half.
“Cross,” Tyler pushes. “Your dad?”
I shake my head sharply. “Nah. He has a no-contact order. He’d get in trouble if he reached out.”
Doesn’t mean it can’t still happen. Say, some stranger showing up with a typed-up letter from him, the note full of threats about metalking, but it’s always left unsigned. Because he’s not an idiot.
I’ve never been so glad to change my last name to my mother’s.Lopezis connected to so much rich Mexican history.Leaving it behind in favor of my father’s–boringMartin–felt almost sacrilegious.
If I were religious.
I’m not, though. Not even remotely.
“There he is!” a deep, familiar voice booms out. “I told you, ‘If I had to bet, Cross Lopez will be working the bag today.’ And I was right!”
I swivel to face the large man making his way across the gym floor. Stanley Griggs is the owner of the gym. He was once a trainer for some famous MMA fighters, but now he mostly arranges the under-the-table fights. He’s the one that got me into it a few years ago. He gave me the address of some shitty warehouse across town, and it wasn’t until I showed up that I realized what he had in store for me.
I won that first fight by the skin of my teeth, and Stanley slapped some cash in my hand. Said there was more of it if I wanted in.
That was the beginning of my addiction.
“Mr. Griggs,” I greet him, shaking his hand. “Nice to see you, sir.”
“Kiss-ass,” Tyler says under his breath.
Stanley either doesn’t catch my best friend’s attitude or he is good at ignoring him. Either way, he smiles brightly and herds me away. “I have some people I’d like you to meet. They’re very well connected in, well…our sort of show.”
I swallow and nod. He keeps promising me that these fights will lead to a professional fight. A legit one. But it’s never been the right time, or he can’t get their agents to agree to fight someone…well, he didn’tsayI was an amateur, but he definitely implied it.
“How’s your mom?” Stanley asks.
“She’s good. She got married over the summer.”
He whistles. “A gorgeous lady like her? I’m not surprised someone snatched her up.”
I force a laugh. “Yeah. He treats her well, so…”
