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I haul off and slap him a third time, the cracking sound ricocheting once more through the empty hall. “And you knew about it. You knew what was going to happen. You knew my life was in danger, and you told me nothing.” I pull my hand back again, clenched into a fist this time, and aim right for his perfect nose.
He dodges me, parrying my punch and then pulling me toward him. He’s all hard muscles at first. It’s like being hugged by a mannequin made of sharp rocks. Little by little, he melts into me though. “Mag had you,” he whispers into my ear. “He had you. If you think for one second I would risk you, you don’t understand me at all.”
Such pretty words. My heart splinters. I want these words. I want them so desperately, but I can’t help but think the person saying them is a cold, hard, calculating wolf. He talks a pretty game. Sometimes he even acts like a gentleman. Heavy on the sometimes. But then there’s always the devil inside him waiting to claw itself to the surface.
“I’ve got you, Kyla,” he continues. “Nothing was ever going to happen to you. I can promise you that. I would never allow that to happen.”
I swallow. His words lodge in my throat and coat my mouth in bitterness. “You can’t say the same for everyone. Dideveryoneelse know? Were any of them blindsided like me? What about them? Johnny—”
A throat clears behind us. “Rocket, your dad’s asking for you.”
I peer over his shoulder to find Magnum. His arm is properly bandaged now. He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, his usual security pose.
Johnny pulls away until I’m at arm’s length. “This is what it’s like in the Heights,” he says, cupping my cheek. “If you’re from here, you know how things go down. It shouldn’t have been a shock to anyone.” He holds my gaze, and I get the distinct feeling he’s telling me I should’ve known what was really going to happen.
The back of my neck burns. I have a problem with that, and I have a hard time believing Brawler knew what was going to happen either.
Then again, he didn’t want me to fight. No one did.
Except Big Daddy K.
Johnny’s cheek is a splotchy red color. I eye the crimson stains while he calls over his shoulder, “Magnum, can you take Kyla into my suite? She’s had a rough day.” He turns and traces his thumb just under my eyes. His striking blue gaze glints while he looks at me, and little-by-little, a soft smile curves the corners of his lips. It’s a gesture I wasn’t sure he’d be capable of after what happened tonight.
There are two sides to Johnny Rocket. One that can woo me. One that I can see a sense of humanity in. But then there’s the other. It’s like his opposite. His enemy, but they’re both living in the same body. He touches his forehead to mine. “I’ll be in as soon as I can. Dad and I just need to talk strategy going forward. We know what you did for us out there. Trust me. It won’t be forgotten, and you’re safe for now.”
He walks away, taking my humanity with him. I close my eyes and try to center myself. I’m either the most naïve person alive or there’s just…something about him.
Magnum moves forward. I sense his domineering presence before I even pry my eyes open. His stature rivals Johnny’s, but it isn’t terrifying, it’s comforting.
Butwhydo I think that? Magnum knew what Big Daddy K was going to do, too. That’s why he came for me right away. They’d pre-planned for Magnum to get me out of there as soon as I won.
I stare at his copper scruff. Dust coats one side with brown smears edging up his cheekbones. I wonder what I look like. A quick inspection tells me I also look a little worse for wear. My fight outfit is ripped. Pebbles are stuck in my arms, surrounded by scrapes and smudges of dirt. I probably have glass in my hair from the car and God knows what else.
“Let’s get you into the suite,” Mag says, gesturing toward the door on the opposite side of the hall.
His voice is pitched low, and his eyes are greedy as he watches me. I’ve always felt like I’ve been on display for him. I chalked it up to it being part of his job to watch things, but his gaze is always trained on me when I’m around.
I follow him into Johnny’s suite and make my way to the black leather sofa. At first, I want to dive into it, let the cushions cocoon me, so I can close my eyes and forget any of this ever happened, but that won’t do. Other things are priority. I need to know what happened to Oscar and Brawler, first and foremost.
I skew my face into a hard line. “I need to know what’s being done to find the others who were there.”
Magnum strokes his beard. It’s like a tic at first, but then he pulls his hand away, glancing at his fingers briefly before combing his copper stubble more fully as if grooming himself. “Whoever made it will meet back here. They might have to wait awhile. Until they think it’s safe.”
“What about the ones who aren’t in the Crew?” I keep my voice flat and only slightly interested. “Where will they go?”
“Is this about Brawler?”
Fuck. I grind my teeth together, keeping my face impassive. How much do I want to give away? Will he go running to Johnny if I tell him I’m worried about where Brawler is?
Mag swallows, his eyes never wavering away from me. His stare is something else. The way he looks at me is like he wants to rip the truth from my body.
Fuck me. I’ll probably die for this.
I nod.
Magnum blows out a breath. “I imagine he’ll hide somewhere. He won’t go home because he wouldn’t want to lead anyone to his mom. He’ll go underground for a while until it’s safe. You need to remember that they—we—all grew up like this, Kyla. They know what they’re doing.”
I nod again, not able to find the words to thank him, and I don’t want to say anything to give my true feelings away either. Underneath the calm surface I’m trying to portray, I’m still reeling from the night’s events. A woman got gunned down three feet from where I stood. A shootout combusted around me in a flurry of bullets and blood. I don’t know where Brawler is. Or Oscar. Hell, I don’t even know if I can trust my own feelings. My own self.