“Nah, everything’s fine. No problems, Ry.” Tyson sounded nervous as he spoke. He was probably worried that he’d get into trouble with Ryder for not taking care of me.
“Didn’t ask you, Son.” Ryder’s eyes bore into me. “Are we cool, Vincent?”
I nodded again. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good.”
“Good.” Ryder’s grin returned and he clamped an arm over my shoulder, steering me towards the cheering crowd. His voice was low as he spoke into my ear. “You’re fighting some noob tonight. Big guy. Huge muscles, but I reckon he’ll be slow. Conor dug up some dirt on him. He has an old shoulder injury from football. He’s a goner. Stupid cunt.”
I didn’t respond; only nodded to acknowledge that I’d heard him. Instead, my mind was trying to process the information Ryder had just given me. The guy had a bad shoulder, meaning he had a weakness that I could exploit. Ryder was right about one thing though. The guy was a stupid cunt.
You didn’t fight if you had a weakness. A weakness was the one thing you didn’t need because as much as you tried to act all tough and shit, in the back of your head, that weakness taunted you. It was like a voice right inside your skin reminding you that you weren’t good enough—that you would never be good enough.
“Is he one of the Allbrook’s?” Tyson was asking Ryder as people parted to let us through to the center of the circle.
“Yeah, he’s one of the new fighters they’re backing.”
“Stupid move,” Tyson said.
The cheering grew, and people were patting me on the back and calling out my name. My ears were deaf to what the crowd was chanting. It was like I was somewhere else, looking in from the outside. I felt disconnected from my own body. I wasn’t myself. I was somebody else. I wasn’t about to beat up some poor guy; the monster inside me was.
Ryder’s voice was in my ear. “You ready, little bro?”
I barely managed a nod before he was pushing me into the center of the circle with both hands, and deafening cheers met me. I stumbled, blinking as though waking from a dream.
Strange faces swam in front of my eyes.
I had to get my head in the game. I had to win.
I had to stop thinking about a life that I didn’t have. I had to stop thinking about a girl from another world.
This was my world, and in this world I was the king.
Chapter Three
Estella
“You okay, Estee?” Nathan asked as we drove down the long road that connected Penthill and Statlen.
I shrugged, not really in the mood to talk after the bizarre night I’d just had. I was still reeling from the shock of running into a member of the Madden gang and living to tell the tale. Except, I didn’t think I’d be telling anyone because the circumstances that I’d met Vincent under had been pretty mortifying.
Apart from the fact that I’d spent fifty percent of our encounter in a state of horrification, the other fifty percent I’d been distracted by Vincent’s good looks. I wasn’t shallow or superficial, but it was hard to ignore how attractive the guy was.
The way I felt around Vincent unsettled me. At first I’d thought I was just scared by him, but really fear had nothing to do with it. Instead, it felt like something had awoken inside of me—that alone scared me more than Vincent ever could.
“Estee, come on, talk to me.”
I caught the slur in Nathan’s voice, and turned in my seat to stare at him in disbelief. “You’ve been drinking.”
Nathan visibly swallowed. “It was just a couple of glasses after dinner and—”
“Pull over, Nathan.”
“I’m fine to dri—”
“Pull over!”
Nathan swore under his breath but did as I said. The car slowed to a stop and we were both as quiet inside as it was outside. The darkness stretched out in front of our eyes—expansive and never-ending, just the way I felt inside.
Nathan was the first one to break the silence. “Estee, I swear, I’m not that drunk.”
I fixed him with a steely glare. “You know how I feel about you drinking. I can’t stop you from doing it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. And there is no way you are going to be driving me anywhere while you’re intoxicated.”
I knew I sounded like a parent instead of Nathan’s younger sister and I hated having to assume that role. For once, I just wanted to be the irresponsible one. I wanted to be the one to stay out all night with my friends and crawl home in the early hours of the morning.
But I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t be that person. I had to be the responsible one. I had to be the strong one. I had to hold everything together.
Nathan stared at the steering wheel and then nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I lost control and I shouldn’t have done that.” He was quiet for a few seconds, and then he spoke again. “Today is her birthday, you know?”
I squeezed my eyes shut as a lump worked its way to the center of my throat. I knew. I just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it. Why did Nathan have to bring up something so painful? Normally, we avoided conversations about her like the plague. I guess the alcohol had taken control of his mouth and he’d brought up the central thing that had probably been bothering him all day.
“Is that why you drank tonight?” My voice was calm even though something inside of me—something I’d locked up inside a cage and then thrown into an abyss—was trying to rise to the surface and take hold of my emotions.
Well, I wasn’t going to let that happen. I was going to stay strong.
Nathan looked up at me; the whites of his eyes were rimmed with red. “I was trying to forget about her. It didn’t really work. I haven’t thought about her for so long, and then I was driving through town and I went past that shop, you know the one with all the pastries? And I thought about the time she’d taken us all there on her birthday and, fuck!” Nathan slammed his hand against the steering wheel, making me jump. “I don’t want to think about her! I want to forget that she exists!”
That natural instinct to take care of everyone awoke inside of me, and my annoyance with Nathan dissipated.
I reached over and placed both arms around him. “I know it’s hard, but you have a heart; you have feelings. Of course you’re going to miss her. Of course you’re going to think about her. You aren’t cold and heartless like she is, Nate.”
Nathan raised his head so I could only see his amber eyes that were so like mine; it was like looking into a mirror. Finally, he sighed and nodded. “You’re right. I’m not like her.”
“You can’t let her affect you so much that you lose grip, okay? Things are going well for you. Please don’t mess it up.” My tone was pleading.
Three years ago, Nathan had been on a downward spiral that had ended up with him in the emergency room from alcohol poisoning. There was no way I was going to let the same thing happen again.
“I won’t mess it up,” Nathan said, determination in his eyes. “I just slipped a little, but I refuse to fall.”
I nodded, and then gestured to the driver’s side door. “Now, get out. I’m driving.”
A smile broke Nathan’s face and he rolled his eyes at me before getting out of the car and coming around to my side. I followed him with a critical eye. He was only stumbling a little which I guess was a good thing, but there was no way I was letting him drive back to campus like this. He could crash on the couch.
Once I was behind the steering wheel, I drove the remaining twenty minutes home, lost in my thoughts. Nathan didn’t say much either and when I glanced over at him, his eyes were fluttering as he fought sleep.
We lived on the edge of town in a neighborhood that had a pretty terrible reputation. The houses on our street were old and rundown and there was more than one front yard that looked like a garbage dump.