Fighting for Forever (Fighting, #6)

“Oh, uh . . . okay.”


He blows out a long breath, either out of relief or frustration, I can’t tell, then tilts his head to peer up at me from beneath this lashes. “Go out with me.”

“Right now? But you said—”

“No, let me take you out. A date.”

“A date?” My voice is high with excitement. I’ve never been on a date. “Like a real date?”

A crooked grin tilts his lips. “No, the fake kind.”

I rock into his shoulder hoping to hide my blush. “Ha, ha.”

“When do you have a night off?”

“After tonight? Not until Tuesday.”

“I’ll pick you up Tuesday.” He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. “Seven o’clock.”

Warmth bursts in my chest. “Okay.”

He leans forward and leaves one last kiss on my lips, no tongue, but deeper than friendly. “See you then.” He stands and moves to the front door, turning before he passes through it. “Lock up when I leave.”

“Yeah, I will.” God, I sound so breathless.

“Later, Trix.” He winks and he’s gone.

What are we doing? Kissing without sex, sharing about our families, a date?

If I didn’t know better, I’d think this was the beginning of a relationship. I nibble a fingernail and feel the pound of my pulse in my neck.

Holy shit! I’m in unknown territory.



Mason

After waiting to make sure Trix locked the door behind me, I jump into my truck and hit call back on my phone. He answers on the first ring. “Birdman, what’s up?”

“Drake took off. Took Jessica with him.”

Fuck. “What do you mean took off?”

The sound of a long exhale is followed by a short cough. “Went into hiding ’til all this clusterfuck blows over.”

“That’s probably best. He make sure to get a hold of the shit so I can deliver it?”

And as soon as I do, I’m washing my hands of this, and Drake can face the consequences of his decisions for once in his fucking life.

The heavy press of guilt weighs down on my shoulders when I think of what Trix said earlier: the way she spoke about her sister, the longing and pain that hung on every word. I never want to imagine that kind of hurt. I’ll never be able to just sit by and allow my little brother to get taken out if there’s something I can do to stop it.

“He did. You’ll have what you need.”

“After this is over, if you guys have more than shit for brains, you’ll all get the fuck out of this before it’s too late.”

“Mason,” he whispers, and I can hear the shuffling through the phone like he’s searching for a quiet place to talk. “Things aren’t like they used to be, man. Back then it was parties and chicks, fuckin’ hanging with our bros and dipping into some minor shit. S’not like that anymore and I’m fuckin’ freakin’ out over here.”

“Why’re you guys still involved? You’ve gotta break ties with—”

“I wish it were that easy, man.” I hear his deep inhale and almost have to laugh at the irony of him smoking weed while neck deep in a no-win situation with their drug-dealing hero.

“It is that easy. Get a job, stop going to the parties, and pull yourself out.”

Birdman clears his throat. “They don’t just let you leave. You have to pay to get out. Blood for blood.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“Forget it. I gotta go.”

“Bird—”

The line goes dead.

Fuck! I grip my phone in my hand tightly then toss it in the passenger seat of my truck to avoid crushing it.

Blood for blood. So they get jumped out? Take an ass-kicking in order to walk away. Seems worth it to me. Taking the beating and walking away with the rest of your life free and clear sounds like a pretty good fucking deal.





Nine





Trix

“As soon as they take a break!” I’m leaning into Angel, yelling to be heard over Ataxia as they dominate the room at The Blackout. “You take the back. I’ll hit the front!”

“Yeah, okay!” She nods, and the nod turns into bobs of her head as she sings along to the music.

I put in four hours at the Youth Center this morning. I wasn’t surprised that Mason didn’t show up. He’d explained that all the fighters rotate shifts, and the guy who showed up was just as good at drawing the attention of my dance girls. I was happy to see the new guy take to Denny, and I wondered if Mason had anything to do with that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had.

After that, I worked my shift at Zeus’s, and it was busy as always. On Sundays, it would seem some go to church, as I did every Sunday growing up, and some go to strip clubs. Worshiping the flesh over the spirit, turning Sunday into Sinday.

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