“Dude. Don’t.” Skeet levels Heath with a cautionary look.
“Speaking of unmentionables,” I say, claiming their attention. “Want to hear about the time I accidentally flashed my math teacher?”
My diversion works, and by the time our food arrives, all tension related to the poisonous Cassie has been long forgotten. We trade goofy stories from our childhood, keeping it deliberately lighthearted, and I forget the curious stares and nosy interest. I even manage to eat half my burger, which is the most food I’ve kept down all week.
“I need to pee,” I say, nudging Heath in the ribs. “Let me out.”
“I’ll come with,” he says, standing.
I push him back down. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m well capable of making it in and out of the restroom alive.”
“Cassie’s gone,” Skeet confirms, glancing over our shoulders.
“And there’s a difference between protection and suffocation,” Axel chastises, earning the middle finger from Heath.
I’m still smiling as I enter the restroom, walking straight into an ambush. “I thought you’d left.” I slant a confident look at Cassie, determined to keep my cool during this confrontation. The pouty waitress is by her side, looking at me like I’m dirt at the bottom of her shoe.
“You think you’re so superior,” Cassie says. “But you’re trash. Dirty. Disposable.” She puts her face right up in mine. “Disgusting.”
“Heath doesn’t agree, but think what you like. Your words don’t hurt me.”
“Only an idiot would think that stupid deal protects them.” Her smug smile competes with the malicious glint in her eyes. “I know how to play the game, and you’re no match for me.”
Come on. Could she be any more cliché? “Are you threatening me?” Briefly, I wonder if she’s the one behind the email, but I quickly dismiss it. There’s no way she could know about my past.
“Watch your back, whore.” She shoulder-checks me as she walks past, but it doesn’t register over the blood thrumming in my ears and the screams bouncing around my brain. The word repeats over and over in my head, and deep-seated anger races to the surface. I grab hold of her elbow. “What did you call me?” I say through gritted teeth.
She smirks, and her eyes glimmer with delight. “Whore.” She enunciates the word, her mouth making an exaggerated “O” sound, and I’m dragged kicking and screaming into the past. I squeeze my eyes shut as my entire body trembles. Cassie tries to wrench free of my hold, but I’ve a vise grip on her arm, and she’s not getting away any time soon. “Let me go, whore, or I’ll scream.”
My head is yanked back so fast it’s a wonder it didn’t detach from my neck. The bitchy waitress has a firm hold of my hair, tugging sharply, as if she’s determined to pull every strand of hair out of my head. She drags me away from Cassie, pushing open one of the stall doors and trying to force my head down. Rage consumes me, and I jab my elbow into her gut before my face hits the toilet bowl. She stumbles backward, losing her grip on me, and I straighten up. Before I’ve had a chance to think about my next move, she’s lunging at me, dragging her nails down one side of my face.
Immediate pain slices across my cheek, and I lose it.
Pressing my palms flat to the wall on either side of the stall, I use my upper body strength to swing my legs around into her stomach, pushing her out of the way. She soars backward across the bathroom with her arms and legs flailing, emitting a loud shriek of frustration.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spy Cassie making a beeline for me with a look of fierce determination etched on her face. “Fucking whore!” she yells. It looks like she’s determined to get involved in the action this time. She repeats the word “whore” over and over, like a mantra, as she advances, and a switch flips in my head.
A frustrated roar rips from my throat, and I race toward her like a wild animal. She backs up, her eyes widening in alarm, but I’m on top of her in a flash, forcing her up against the wall. My hands automatically encircle her neck, and I zone out, having lost all control. She frantically grabs at my wrists, trying to remove my chokehold, but I’m not in the moment.
I’m back in the past, and I can’t see straight or think clearly.
Years of torment fuel the violent energy coursing through me, and I’m not in the present. My hands tighten around her neck, and Cassie makes a strangled sound, but it’s not her face I’m seeing, and I can’t stop.
Ethan’s face swims in front of my eyes. Stop, B. This isn’t who you are.
I snap out of it. My hands fall away from her neck, and I jerk back, horrified at my actions. Cassie drops to her knees, gasping, crying, and clutching at her throat. Blood is pounding in my ears and my heart is beating way too fast. Shame, and a host of other emotions, washes over me. “Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” I move cautiously toward her. “Are you okay?”
She scoots over to the other side of the bathroom. “Stay away from me, you fucking psycho!” she screams. “Keep her away from me!” she yells at her friend.
I’d almost forgotten about the other girl, but as I turn around, she grabs me by the hair again, shoving me, face-first, into the nearest stall door. Blood gushes from my nose, but I hardly feel any pain because my body is on edge, juiced up and raring to go. I turn around, swaying on my feet, as my vision blurs in and out, and remaining upright becomes challenging.
“Stupid fucking whore.” The waitress kicks me in the leg, and I stagger back into the stall, grasping hold of the doorframe to keep myself from falling. Pinning me with a malicious look, she kicks me in the stomach, and I lose my grip, crashing to the ground on my butt. My back slams into the toilet, and pain shoots up my spine, but it barely registers as anger roars to life inside me again. She lashes out when I’m defenseless and sprawled on the ground, kicking me again, in the face this time, before backing away, smirking.
My head spins, and there’s a metallic taste in my mouth as I scramble to my feet, but the surge of adrenaline still working its way through my body overtakes the pain, and I charge out of the stall toward her like a madwoman.
She’s crouching over Cassie, and they are both screaming for help. A red haze sweeps over me, and I jump on the waitress’s back. We both fall to the floor at an awkward angle, wrestling for control. She digs her nails into my injured cheek, and I lose all sense of reason.
Roaring, I gain the upper hand, straddling her as I rain punches on her face.
Her features transform.
The monsters from my past laugh at me, and I pummel them harder, ignoring my throbbing knuckles and the pain lancing across my chest. I just keep lashing out.
“Holy fucking shit.”
I’m ripped off the girl by strong hands, and I thrash about, resisting the motion. I’m not in the moment. I still can’t see over the red haze and the nightmares of my past.
“Blaire. It’s okay,” Axel says, looming hazily in my line of sight. “We’ve got you.” The person at my back—Skeet, I’m guessing—wraps his arm around my waist more tightly, holding me flush against his body.
“I’m calling the cops.” Cassie’s fingers hover over her cell. Heath is beside her, his back flattened against the locked door. Someone thumps on the door from outside, demanding to be let in.
“Take her.” Skeet lets me go, handing me over to Axel while he bends over the girl whimpering on the floor.
“She’s a fucking psycho!” Cassie shrieks, making a grab for Heath as he snatches her cell and holds it out of her reach.
“You’re the psycho,” he barks back. “I told you to leave her alone, but you ignored me! And I’m fucking done with you. I’m telling your parents about the crash and your coke habit.”
“Tell them! They won’t believe you. You have no proof. All it’ll do is bring heat down on you.”
“We’ll get proof,” Axel hisses, keeping me close to his chest. I’m shaking all over, and m
y limbs are jittery and infused with adrenaline that refuses to dissipate.
“I think she might need stitches,” Skeet says, helping the waitress to her feet.
“You’re going down for this,” she says, cradling her injured cheek. There’s a small cut under her eye that probably does need stitches. My head is a mess. I’m disgusted at myself, but I’m still raging.
“Whore,” she adds, and I lunge at her, the word like an incendiary device.
Axel reacts fast, restraining me before I can reach her and forcing me back behind him. He clasps a firm hand on my hip, keeping me in place.
“Get Blaire out of here.” Heath speaks directly to Axel before stalking to my side. He stares at me with apprehension in his eyes. “We’ll fix this, baby, but you need to go. Ax will take care of you, and everything will be okay,” he reassures me.
I nod, gulping over a million conflicting emotions. Then Axel tugs me toward the open window at the back of the bathroom, pushing it up fully. “You go first.” He lifts me up, swinging my legs over the ledge, and carefully sets me down on the ground outside before joining me. He takes my hand and leads me around the building, back out onto the sidewalk. When we reach his bike, he flips me around, clasping my face in both his hands. “What the hell happened back there?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I don’t know how to explain it. Not when I’m still all fired up. My gaze darts all over the place, and my hands shake. I can’t force my body to calm down, and it’s refusing to cooperate. I’m twisted into a million knots, and my mind is spinning in a million different directions.
“Blaire. Eyes on me.” Axel grips my face tighter, forcing my gaze to meet his concerned one. “You need to let off steam?”
I nod. “I … I feel a little crazy right now.”
“It’s the adrenaline. It needs an outlet.”
“I’m such a fuckup.” I swallow over the nasty taste in my mouth
“Stop that.” Axel’s tone is harsh. “We’re all fuckups in our own ways.”
I hold my arm up, my hand shaking uncontrollably. “What the hell is wrong with me?”
“You need to get this out of your system.” He weighs something up in his mind before gripping my face firmly again. “You trust me, baby? You trust me to look after you right now?” I nod. “Okay. Then I know what you need.” After cleaning up my nose and wiping streaks of blood off my face, he hands a helmet to me. “Put that on, and let’s get out of here.”
Chapter Eighteen
I don’t ask where we’re going, which is becoming a bit of a habit when it comes to Axel. I hold onto him tightly as he navigates the bike in the dark, hoping the chilly ride will eliminate this crazy insanity thrumming through my veins, but I’m still pumped up when we reach our destination.
Loud whoops and hollers emanate from the disheveled barn we’ve arrived at. We’re in a field in the middle of nowhere, and lighting is virtually nonexistent. Thin slivers of light snake out from some gaps in the wall as we walk alongside the structure, but it’s the only brightness for miles. Empty fields surround us on all sides as we walk over uneven, grassy terrain.
Axel slams to a halt just before we turn the corner, twisting me around in his arms. “You still trust me to know what’s best for you now?”
“I do. I trust you.”
He’s staring at me, but it’s too dark to read his expression. “I know what you’re feeling. Our rage may originate from different sources, but I feel your pain pulsing through me, Blaire.” He plants his hand on my stomach. “I understand how destructive it is to try and breathe through it. No one else gets it.” He sighs, and his chest heaves. “I used to come here when I needed to release it. It’s not pretty, and you could get hurt, but it’ll help.” He holds my face between his hands. “I won’t let you get seriously hurt. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”
I grab hold of his wrists. “I trust you.”
“It’s dangerous, and the others won’t approve.”
My heart jumps at his words, and butterflies scatter in my chest. I’m equal parts scared, exhilarated, and reckless at the same time. “I don’t care. This is about me. About needing release. It feels like I’m destructing from the inside out.” A tiny cry escapes my mouth. “Make it stop, Axel. Please make it go away.”
He fuses our mouths together in a searing-hot kiss, and we devour one another for a few minutes, clinging tightly to each other, before he pulls back, snatching my hand and hauling me around the corner. I freeze at the sight of the two men guarding the barn entrance. Both are older. Early thirties, if I had to guess. They have shaved heads, lip piercings, full tatted sleeves, and bulging biceps to rival Heath’s. But it’s the guns tucked into the bands of their jeans that set my nerves even more on edge. The sight of the guns brings me out in a cold sweat, and I jerk back, wondering what the hell type of place this is.
“Blaire?” Axel pulls me against his chest.
“We’re not going to shoot, are we?” I ask, my voice quaking.
He shakes his head. “No. It’s nothing like that.” He pauses for a beat. “We don’t have to go in. I can take you home right now. Or we can go in, and if you don’t like it, we can leave.” He tucks my hair behind my ears. “It’s always your choice.”
That’s exactly what I need to hear to settle my nerves. “I want to go inside.”
“Thorp.” One of the burly bouncers acknowledges Axel with a slight nod of his head, stepping aside to let us enter.
The first thing that registers is the smell. Stale sweat mixed with the metallic scent of blood and smoky fumes assault me as I clasp Axel’s hand, letting him lead me into the barn. The unruly shouting is the next thing that registers. All around me, questionable-looking men with tats, piercings, and dubious expressions jostle toward the top of the space, hollering and fist pumping the air. An aura of danger permeates the room as we make our way through the noisy, sweaty crowd.
Even though I keep my eyes trained on Axel’s back, I’m conscious of leering looks and lingering gazes. Someone pinches my ass, and I shriek, clutching Axel’s hand so tightly I’m probably restricting the blood flow. Suctioning me to his chest, he glares at the nearest guy, not at all perturbed that he’s got at least forty pounds on him and he looks like he eats puppies for breakfast. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
“No harm, no foul, Fury.” The scary douche holds up his hands in surrender.
“Stay in front of me,” Axel commands, altering our positions as we continue our journey.
“Fury?” I shout to be heard over the noise.
“It’s my stage name.”
I’m about to ask another question when we break through to the top of the room, and my mouth slackens as my eyes scan the cage. It’s kind of similar to ones I’ve seen in MMA except cruder. Ethan and Cam were big MMA fans, and I used to watch some of the fights with them. Three steps lead up to a medium-sized ring that is surrounded by metal bars. It’s not enclosed on top, but the steel sides are tall enough not to be breached. The gray stone floor looks brutal, and there are no mats in sight. Two men dance around each other in the ring, both sporting facial injuries and bruising to their bodies.
“Thorp. Long time no see.” A tall, wiry man with greasy slicked-back hair greets Axel like a long-lost son, slapping him on the back. He’s wearing an ill-fitting black suit, and bits of dandruff stick to the collar and shoulders, making my stomach turn. “You here to fight?” he asks, turning an inquisitive eye on me.
Axel shakes his head. “You got any girls looking to fight?”
A slimy grin spreads over his face. “It is free for all Friday, and your luck’s in. Got a regular looking to fight. I was about to send her home.”
“Give me a sec.” Axel gestures at me, and the man steps back a few spaces.
Axel surveys me closely, his eyes penetrating mine. “This is what I do when I need to release ste
am. I get in that ring, and I let the anger fuel me. If you want, you can fight tonight.”
Anxiety combines with excitement in a strange concoction flowing through my veins. “I’ve never fought in a ring.”
“But you have fought before.” Again, it’s not a question. It’s a statement. The fact he can see me so clearly is alarming for a whole heap of reasons.
I nod. “And I’m trained in self-defense.”
“I can give you some additional pointers, and if you fight without a fee, you can call a halt to it if it gets too much.”
This is crazy. I should say no, but I’m already nodding. “I’m in.”
Ax spends a couple minutes making arrangements with the sleazeball in the suit while I watch the action in the ring. “C’mon.” He takes my hand, pushing around the back of the stage and leading me behind an enclosed area. “You’re up next, so we don’t have much time.” The area is divided into a makeshift men’s and women’s changing rooms, and there’s a small communal area where a bunch of people linger, drinking and talking. Ax opens an overhead cupboard, pulling out some items and handing them to me. “Get changed in there, and let me know when you’re done.”
I eye the tight shorts and skimpy bra top with derision. “Exactly what kind of fight is this?”
“It’s a regular fight, Blaire, but they like to give the largely male audience something pretty to look at every once and a while.”
I mutter under my breath as I walk into the changing room and pull on the offending outfit. “I feel naked,” I tell him when I step back outside. “I usually wear more clothes to the beach.”
“You look fucking hot,” he says, his eyes shimmering with desire. I expect him to pull me to him, but he’s all business, explaining how to assess my opponent’s strengths and weaknesses and how to use a few simple techniques to incapacitate her. The girl I’m fighting is a regular, so I probably don’t stand a hope in hell of winning, but I don’t care. I’m not here for the win. I’m here to unleash my demons through my fists. Unfortunately, inflicting pain is my usual go-to-method, so I’m not overly surprised I’ve ended up here.
Surviving Amber Springs: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance Page 14