by E. M. Moore
Downstairs? What the fuck is downstairs? The parking lot?
Big Daddy K turns, placing his hand on his son’s shoulders. Behind him, two guards, including the one I sent away, drag Glo from the room. Big Daddy K ignores the insults she throws his way and makes his way toward me. The closer he comes, the more agitated I get. Magnum shifts his body out of the way, which makes me even more uncomfortable. It was nice to have a buffer. Eventually, Big Daddy K stops a few steps away from me, and I sigh in relief. I was just about to step back to get away from him. The more he’s in my space, the more I don’t like it. At least he hasn’t tried to touch me. Yet.
He takes in my appearance with a small frown. I don’t think it has anything to do with the fact that I was just rolling around on the floor fighting with a grief-stricken lunatic. By the way, I’m also a grief-stricken lunatic, so that’s not a putdown. If you think about it, Glo and I are the same. I was just smarter about my attack. Do I think she should have tried to kill me? Fuck no. But can I blame her? Not really. The vengeance bug caught her too.
“Where was your guard when this happened?” Big Daddy K looks down at what’s left of the broken lamp on the floor and accepts the gun one of his guards hands him.
“I sent him away. I thought I was going to be trying on clothes.”
His jaw ticks. “Wasn’t this woman checked when she entered?” he asks. He’s staring at me, but I know he’s not looking for me to answer, and everyone else knows it, too. The phalanx of black-dressed guards in the room hang their heads. “This, of all times,” he says, voice growing harder. “We knew there would be retaliation. I don’t care if you know these people or not. I don’t care if you stood next to their brother yesterday in the Goddamn parking lot, that doesn’t excuse you from checking each and every fucking person who comes in here.” He waves his hand out. “Now leave before I decide to take my anger out on all of you.”
Johnny eyes them as the group leaves. His chin is made of chiseled stone. He looks like if he could kill them all, he would.
After the mass exodus, a few linger behind. The guy I can’t look at or think about, Magnum, Johnny, myself, and Big Daddy K. The latter rubs his face. Between the gaps in his hands, he lets his true feelings show. He’s exhausted, and he’s pissed. But once he’s done rubbing his face, he smiles at me. I’m so out of my depths with his guy, I don’t know what to do. “Kyla, I’m glad to see you’re okay.”
I swallow. I’m not thanking him. Fuck that. Though, those are the words that immediately spring to mind because if someone says they’re glad you’re okay, you automatically want to thank them. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it back. I don’t know what he’s going to do about Glo. I can’t even blame her for what she did, but I doubt they carry those same feelings. If it were up to me, I’d ask her to be sent home. No harm. No foul. Maybe keep a watch on her for a few days to make sure she doesn’t do anything else stupid. But the Heights Crew doesn’t work like that. They’re far less forgiving.
She’s probably already dead.
Big Daddy K gestures toward the black leather couch behind me. I turn, make my way over to it, and have a seat. My shin is bothering me again, which means I should probably ice it. My body feels like it’s been thrown in a washing machine. I don’t know which way is forward anymore, all I know is I’ve walked through hell to be this confused and fucked up.
He sits next to me, angling his knees toward my own. I make sure I’m just out of his reach because the last thing I need is for him to put his hands on me again like we’re old friends. Too many things swirl through my brain at the moment. “I didn’t get a chance to talk to you properly last evening. I understand you have some questions about what happened last night.”
My face flames. Not because I’m embarrassed, but because I’m fucking pissed. I told Johnny that in confidence. Or what I thought should have been in confidence. A conversation between two people, who—I don’t know—fucking like each other? It certainly wasn’t meant to go anywhere besides the two of us.
But because the cat is out of the bag, I lift my gaze to meet his. “Why did you kill her?”
He cocks his head slightly, like he’s trying to make me out. Maybe he doesn’t ever have people question him? Maybe he’s just trying to figure out why I care. I don’t know.
“I don’t want to diminish your fight, Kyla. You fought admirably. You did what I asked you to do, and I thank you for that. What happened after was going to happen whether you won or lost. The Heights Crew is at the top of the food chain. Do you know why? Because we don’t let people walk all over us. What happened yesterday was a culmination of that woman’s actions. You either die a winner or a loser, Kyla, and she died a loser. Me? I’m making sure I die a winner, and that means protecting what’s mine at all costs. It was my territory. Not hers. The fight was just a ruse to sucker her in so I could do what I’ve wanted to do for years but never had the opportunity. You gave me that opportunity.”
Oh God, if he thanks me, I’m going to puke. He says it like I should be proud of that fact, but I’m not. If this really is all because of me, then I’m the reason why Roza Fonz died. I’m the reason why Glo’s brother got shot and bled out.
“This life isn’t for everybody, Kyla, but I think there’s something in you. I want you to be our prizefighter in the rings. Johnny’s told me you also want that, so wish granted, little fighter. You’re now number one. You’ve earned it.”
Satisfaction should be rolling through me, warming my skin. I get to fight, one of the things I loved from my old life, here, to make me feel human again in this one, but now’s not the time for that. I know I’ve already lost before I’ve even begun.
But at his words, I allow myself to finally find the one person in the room I’ve wanted to see more than anything.
Oscar’s dark eyes are already focused on me, piercing through every barrier I have in place. Funny enough, though I’m relieved he’s okay, I don’t know if I’ve ever wanted to punch someone more.
5
That feeling grows and grows as Johnny and Big Daddy K leave the room to deal with the situation downstairs. I can’t even focus on that because I won’t like the outcome, but there’s also nothing I can do about it. I can’t plead her case. I can’t help her. She made her bed, and I’m not ruining my plans to save hers.
I stare Oscar down, and he flashes me a smirk.
I can’t even with this fucker.
“I’ll be just outside,” Magnum says. I don’t break eye contact with Oscar to look at Magnum, but he knows what’s happening.
As soon as the door clicks behind him, I stand. My hands turn to fists, and Oscar looks me over. “You seem pissed.”
“That’s a fucking understatement, asshole.”
He widens his eyes on purpose. “And here I thought you’d be all over me.”
“Oh, I’m about to be all over you,” I say, moving closer to him. I shove him back. “You knew what was going down.”
He stumbles back a few steps, lifting his hands in the air.
“Don’t deny it,” I growl.
“Yes, I knew.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to say anything?” I seethe.
“Why? So you could worry? So you could get your ass kicked in the fight knowing you wouldn’t be able to do anything about what’s going down afterward? Your head wouldn’t have been in the fight, it would have been on what was about to happen!”
“I thought what I was doing meant something!”
“It did,” Oscar protests. He drops his hands to his sides. “Did you not just get added to the fight ring like you wanted? Do you think you would’ve been added if you lost?”
“Don’t try to talk your fucking way out of this. Not telling me was a bullshit move, and you know it.”
“Listen, I don’t know what kind of power you think I have, Kyla, but newsflash, I don’t have shit. I have nothing. When I get told to do something, I fucking do it. That’s it. End of story.”
“Oh, so you’re a fucking coward? That’s what you’re telling me?”
He grits his teeth together, and I immediately want to take the words back. “Walking into that parking lot last night even though I knew people were going to fucking die was a coward thing to do? Not telling you what was going to happen because I didn’t want you distracted was a coward thing to do?” He cracks his knuckles. “I guess if that’s being a coward, sign me the fuck up. I’ll own up to it. I’ll wear a fucking crown that says that shit. I’ll wear it every fucking day for the rest of my life.”
The fight’s left me now. He’s right. Sort of. In a way. What is right or wrong anymore? “Yeah, well, who knows how long that will be?” I snipe back because I can’t help myself. I’m mad and I don’t have a way to let it out.
Oscar’s cockiness is back. “I’ve already outlived my shelf life because of where I am. Because I keep my mouth shut and do what I’m told. Every day after the day I returned to the Heights is a fucking blessing. That’s what I know.”
The short glimmer of pure hate in his eyes makes me wonder why he posed his answer that way. What happened the day he got back to the Heights? “This is insane,” I say, the words dropping from my lips before I can even think about them.
“Welcome to the Heights, Princess.”
His words seem all too familiar. I rub my arms to try to bring life back into them. Every part of me feels dead or lost.
“Now,” he says, “can we start this again? I swear to fuck I’ve missed you. I couldn’t come to you. I couldn’t explain shit. And I knew all along you’d be wanting to castrate me.”
My lips part, and I crack a smile. “Maybe.”
“Fuck that. It’s a definite yes. You didn’t see the look in your eyes just now. That was some psycho shit right there.”
“And I’m guessing you don’t like psycho girls?” I ask coyly.
“Are you kidding me? They’re my favorite.”
He reaches his hand out to me, and I take it. He pulls me close, wrapping me in a hug. He kisses my neck, a brief touch of lips pressed against bare skin, but it helps settle me.
I pull away, not because I want to, but I don’t want to get caught together either. I wipe at my eyes and then curl my hair around my ears. “Have you heard from Brawler?”
He looks to the ground and shakes his head. “The whole thing was a mess. I couldn’t find you. I didn’t see him. When I made contact, I couldn’t even risk asking if you were fucking alive because I didn’t want to raise suspicion. I tried texting you, but you must not have your phone.”
I shrug. “I have no idea where that is. I think it was in the sweatshirt I took off before the fight. Hell, it might even still be in the parking lot.”
Oscar shakes his head. “I was part of the cleanup crew. It’s not there.”
I swallow. Part of the cleanup crew? I don’t even want to ask how many dead people he saw, and his demeanor doesn’t make me want to ask either.
“He’ll check in,” Oscar says. “Not that I should want him to, right?” He bites his lip. “Considering you like both of us.”
Vulnerability doesn’t suit Oscar. Not that it’s a bad thing. I like it. But he looks so awkward when he peers up at me after those words hang in the air for a moment. He’s miles away from the confident badass gang member right now. His words are like a forbidden heavy cloak over us. Those words shouldn’t be spoken. Not in Johnny’s suite. Not at all, actually. Can people even have feelings for more than one guy at a time?
Actually, yes, they can. I know for a fact because I do, and that’s all the reassurance I need.
“I do like both of you,” I tell him. I won’t even begin to tell him about the weird vibe I have with Magnum and just the ridiculous nature of whatever feelings I have for Johnny. I haven’t figured those out myself yet.
He jams his hands into his pockets. “So, still want to stay here?” he asks. “Bitches trying to kill you. Shootouts. Fights to the death.”
I mentally add his name along with Brawler’s to his sarcastic list of reasons why I would want to stay in the Heights, except those are my real reasons. Not to mention the reason why I came here in the first place. “Yes, I still want to be here.”
“We must be the stupidest fucking people alive.”
“No, we’re just stuck.” I’m more stuck than he knows. He probably thinks I’m crazy, and let’s face it, I am. This path was never going to be easy, but it needs to be done.
He looks over his shoulder toward the door. “They’re probably wondering where I am. We don’t need to be seen together like this.”
I hate this. I wish I didn’t have to cater to everyone. I take a deep breath. “Oscar, I need to get to my apartment. Is there any way you can take me there?”
He turns toward me, a sly look on his face. “Your apartment?”
“There’s something there I need.”
“I can grab it for you.”
Ugh. These guys and wanting to help. Don’t they know women like to do shit for themselves? “I really need to get it myself. Can you get me there?”
He blows out a breath. “I can try, but after what just happened in here with that crazy chick, I doubt you’re going anywhere for a while. You know how Johnny is.”
His words punch a hole in the bubble surrounding us. I’m good at pretending everything’s fine. Hell, I’m even good at convincing myself that everything is fine, but in this moment, it dawns on me that I am indeed stuck. I’m worried about someone finding my cell phone. I’m worried about Brawler. About the rest of us who have to deal with this life day in and day out.
“One day, you’re going to tell me what your secret is, Princess,” Oscar coaxes. Instead of looking defeated, a new light burns in his eyes like I might be his greatest challenge yet. We come together like the sky meets the earth in a beautiful horizon of colors. He runs his hand over my hair, cupping the back of my head. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Fuck me. How did I end up in the craziest of worlds surrounded by guys who aren’t crazy? I’m not saying they’re not bad. Or that they don’t have the potential to do shitty things, but deep down, I’d wager no one has determination like Oscar. Or heart like Brawler. Or—.
“Just one fix,” he says, his breath teasing my lips. Our lips collide, and he spins me until my back is against the door. He presses me against it, deepening the kiss until my limbs tingle. I want more. I need more. For as much as Oscar is a badass, he’s not a wild card like Johnny. I don’t have to second-guess the spark between us. I’m throwing myself all in.
I curl my fingers around his lower back, yanking him toward me. He nips at my lips before diving his tongue inside my mouth where he takes complete control. He worships me, kissing me thoroughly, and I do my best to give it right back to him.
He pulls away all too soon, both of us breathing heavy. He drifts his forehead to mine and rests it there. “That was fucking…incredible.”
I smile. “I guess that’s why you like us crazy ones.”
“Just one crazy one.”
And to think he’d been messed up over Nevaeh a couple of weeks ago. That just proves that when you know, you just know. Different people are attuned to different people. So, when you click, things just fall into place like long lost puzzle pieces. I’ve been trying to figure out how I’m not like these guys, but what if being like them isn’t necessarily a bad thing? They’re survivors, whether they know it or not. In that, we’re the same. We all do what we have to do.
“I have to go,” Oscar says. “If I hear anything about Brawler, I’ll let you know.”
I don’t ask how he’s going to be able to do that since I’ll be stuck here with no cell, but at least Oscar has access to the tower. It’s not out of line for him to be here. In fact, it’s pretty much mandatory that he’s here. “How deep are you in this, Oscar?”
He curls his hands into my t-shirt—well, Johnny’s t-shirt. “As much as you, Princess.”
I nod knowingly. At leas
t Brawler isn’t in. He could leave and never come back, and it would be okay. “You should keep up with football. You never know what might happen.”
He kisses my forehead and steps away. “Talk soon,” he promises, then he leaves, closing the door behind him. The air in this room is electrically charged now, pricking my skin with tiny bolts. The broken lamp on the floor holds my attention. I really did almost get shot twenty minutes ago. As far as I know, Johnny could be inflicting some sort of mortal punishment on Glo right now.
Yet, I’m not as terrified as an outsider should be. I’m not going to cower into a fucking corner and wish for my mom. That shit fucking sailed years ago.
I turn to the door closest to the main door, hoping for a closet. I’m right. Inside, I find a dustpan and a broom and start picking up the broken shards of the lamp that fell to the floor. Behind me, the door swings open. I startle, some of the lamp pieces falling to the floor again.
“What are you doing?”
I look over my shoulder and find Magnum, one hand still on the knob but staring at me as if I’ve lost my mind. I shrug. “Cleaning?”
He comes over, maneuvering his hand around my upper arm and gently tugging me upward. “Let someone else do that.”
“Oh, is there housekeeping I don’t know about?”
“Of course, there is,” he snaps. The ferocity of his voice makes me take a step back. He takes the broom and dustpan from me and bends at the waist to complete what I started. “There’s no way in hell you’re cleaning up after the fight where you could’ve died.”
“I didn’t know who else was going to do it.”
“All you have to do is say something to Johnny. He’ll take care of it. If he wasn’t so furious about Glo, he would’ve handled it already.” I take a step toward him to try to take the broom back, but he moves it out of my reach. “Just relax. You had a gun pulled on you today.”