Get Off on the Pain(60)

I watch as she turns and starts walking away. “Ava,” I call out, stopping her. “Let me know if you need anything . . . or if Ryder ever hurts you. Got it? I still have your back.”

She smiles that old smile I’m familiar with and nods before getting lost in the crowd.

Alex steps up next to me. “That girl still loves you, man. That’s sad.”

I grind my jaw and tense as the first fight comes to an end by knock out. Ryder is throwing up his fists in victory and hitting his chest like a damn gorilla, that fucking asshole. He’s nothing but a show off.

“She’ll move on.” I watch as Ryder stares me down, walking backwards through the crowd. He looks to be in a hurry, as if he has somewhere to go.

“Hey . . . dude.” Alex shoves my shoulder. “You ready or what? They’re calling Trevor out.”

I pull my eyes away from Ryder and look toward the white square as Trevor comes out, his face void of all emotion. He looks stiff and uncomfortable in the ring.

I don’t hear anything around me until my name comes out of the announcer’s mouth. Without a second thought I step inside the ring and start circling around Trevor, staring him down. Looking at him reminds me of the night he was all over Lyric, and suddenly I feel the rage that I should be trying to keep hidden away.

The signal to start comes. “Fight!” I come at Trevor swinging my left elbow at his jaw. It connects hard, sending him stumbling to the side.

He growls out before rushing at me and tackling me to the ground, trying to get me in a headlock. I don’t let it happen though. I maneuver my way out of his grip and jump back to my feet, ready to fight on my feet. I hate being on the ground.

Trevor growls out and shakes his head while getting back to his feet as well. I hear the crowd going wild, most of them chanting my name as he circles around me. He keeps his eyes on me, making sure he has a good shot before swinging out and connecting his knee to my ribcage. He’s a quick little shit. It hurts, but not enough to stop me, just enough to piss me the fuck off and get me going.

Coming at him, I wrap one arm around his neck, pulling him to me as I knee him in the stomach repeatedly, before releasing him and connecting my fist to his mouth.

Spitting out blood, Trevor stares me down, before growling out and swinging a bareknuckle punch to my right eye, causing me to lose my footing a little, before regaining composure.

We both just stare at each other for a moment.

I don’t want to hurt him. I really don’t. Not as much as I’m about to at least, but it has to be done. I don’t want this to last much longer. I wasn’t expecting it to be him I would fight tonight, and I have a feeling that he doesn’t want to be here fighting me either. The longer the fight goes on the more pain this asshole will feel. I’m ending this now.

I close in and grab the back of his head with both hands, slamming my knee into face, knocking him out cold. He falls backward, landing hard on the pavement.

I hear everyone shouting before I feel Alex’s hand on my shoulder. “I knew you still had it, bro. Nice.”

Pushing my way through the crowd, I quickly gather my winnings and head straight for Alex’s truck. I just need to get out of here. This feeling is too much.

The thought of me leaving my best friend knocked out cold on the ground fucking eats at me. He may be fucked up and have his problems, but I never thought it’d come down to this. I hate this life. I don’t want it anymore. I’ll do whatever I have to do and then get the hell out of here.

One more hour; just one more fucking hour and I’ll be closer to paying Asher off and getting my brother’s freedom back.





IT’S BEEN A FEW HOURS since I heard Memphis leave with Alex, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Memphis made it clear that he had something to take care of tonight and the thought has me on edge, unable to relax.

Those are the kinds of words that my father uses frequently: I have something to take care of. They always scream trouble or danger. I know that Memphis is nothing like my father, but those words make me feel like I’m a child again, watching my father walk out of the door, and wondering if he’ll ever be back.

I’ve spent most of the night pacing my bedroom floor, trying to avoid Bailey. She asks too many questions and I’m really not in the mood to discuss something that I can’t even explain myself. She’s in the living room waiting on Landen. I just hope he picks her up soon, before Memphis gets home, because as soon as he pulls up I’m going over there. I don’t care what he says. I’ve spent the whole night worrying about his secretive ass.

It’s already past midnight.