Take Me On

“I’m pretty sure I told you to stay put.”


West must have a hearing deficiency. “I’ll come along.”

“You never freaking listen, do you?”

“No.”

West continues to tread on areas of my life where I’ve never allowed anyone. I stop and so does he. “Will you go wait for me in the car?”

“Are you cold, Haley? Because I’m cold. I’m going with or we can stay here and freeze to death. Either way, we’re together.”

It’s cold enough that my wet hair is forming into icicles. “You are so high-maintenance.”

The parking-lot lamp behind him creates a shadow along his face, but that smile is hard to miss. I’m irritated with him and I want to stay irritated with him, but those types of smiles make it hard to stay mad at him for long.

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” he asks.

My mouth gapes. “I am not high-maintenance.”

He rocks his eyebrows. “I’m messing with you. For real, it’s cold, so let’s move.”

“Will you stay here? Just one second. I swear I’ll never be out of your sight.”

In a sweeping motion, he waves his hand for me to continue.

The blacktop beneath my feet crackles as it gives way to gravel and, with West a safe distance away, I approach the tiny camper and knock on the door. The muted and distorted sound of a crowd roaring fades away. John’s always watching a fight—for entertainment, for training, for scouting, for tips on how to beat an upcoming opponent.

The entire vehicle shakes as John opens the door. He’s in the same clothes as usual, a T-shirt and nylon athletic pants. He rubs his eyes as if waking from a deep sleep. “You’re done?”

“We’re done,” I say. “I forgot to get the keys from you so you’ll need to lock up.”

John grabs his coat. “I’ll drive you home.”

“Thanks, but West will do it.”

He peers over my shoulder. “I’ll lock up after I finish watching this tape.”

Nerves cause a flash freeze in my bloodstream. “What about my uncle?” I’ve never come in this late before. Jax and Kaden have, sometimes they roll in later, but never me.

“I talked to him and he knows you’re training. I’ll warn you, he’s not happy, but he’ll let you in. You’ve got to be there by eleven on a school night and midnight on the weekend.”

I shift, suddenly consumed with the urge to run and meet curfew. “It’s eleven now. When were you going to tell me?” Anytime this week could have helped.

“I would have come and gotten you by eleven-thirty and taken you home.”

I assess sleepy “Grandpa.” “Uh-huh.”

The old man cracks a rare grin. “Go on before you do miss curfew.”

I hesitate. “Jax and Kaden weren’t here tonight.”

“They weren’t.”

“But they train at the gym every night.” I know because I’ve been stuck at the hellhole house without them. John cocks a hip against the doorframe, waiting for me to catch up, and it doesn’t take long for the synapses in my brain to fire. “They say they’re training and then they go out.”

“Good night, Haley.” He shuts the door. Jax and Kaden had a way out and they didn’t include me. My insides drop to my frozen toes. Oh, my God, they must seriously hate me.

I say nothing as I pass West.

“Is that his other office?”

“No.” It’s where he lives.

West unlocks the passenger-side door and holds it open for me. “You okay?”

He searches my face and the sympathy screams he knows the answer. I slide into the seat and a few seconds later, he joins me. West revs the engine, blasts the heater and angles the vents at me. It’s a sweet gesture. One that makes me sort of regret not dating fighters.

Thinking of Kaden and Jax and all their secrets, I kick my shoes off and curl into a tight ball in the seat. How did everything become so screwed up?

“It’ll get warmer in a second.” West pulls out of the parking lot and heads to my uncle’s.

He assumes I’m cold. I’m always cold, but I’m trying to hold myself together. Sure, Jax and Kaden weren’t happy with me, but to not tell me John would cover for us...

I’m like an injured antelope abandoned by the herd, but I guess I asked for it. Somewhere between dating Matt and leaving fighting, I became the stray left for my uncle to devour.

My uncle never touches me. He doesn’t have to. His words, his voice, his glares... They have a way of clawing past my skin, becoming a toxic layer along my bones and creeping into my bloodstream. You’re worthless, he once told me. You’re weak and you’re worthless.

I’m not. My throat tightens and I rest my temple on the window. At least, I don’t think I am.