Page 19

The towel is surprisingly lush as I dry myself off and pull on the clothes Rocket thinks I would look good in. To my utter surprise and dismay, they fit. Like a glove. There’s no bra or underwear, but with how tight the clothes are, I don’t think I’d want to be wearing those pieces anyway. The shirt has an open back that ties around the neck. Extra material drapes over my chest, giving it a flouncy look but the rest is skintight. It looks like something Cherry or Nevaeh would wear, so I guess this is exactly what I should be wearing now that Rocket owns me—or thinks he does.
The excitement of the fight still flows through me as I comb my fingers through my wet hair to get rid of the tangles. When I finally pull the door open, Brawler’s there, leaning against the wall like he’s been waiting for me for a while. “Where do you train?” I ask him. Now that my secret’s out, I need to jump back into the gym life. I started boxing and martial arts at the suggestion of a shrink who thought it would be a great way to release my aggression. Soon after, I started taking it seriously, so I could carry out my vengeance plan one day. From the second I stepped into the gym, I loved it like nothing else. Nothing calms me more than hitting pads or feeling the satisfying thwack of my fists against something hard.
“Excuse me?” Brawler asks, his eyebrows inching up his forehead.
“Train? You know, for fighting. You must train somewhere. You don’t expect me to think you just someday woke up with those muscles, do you?”
His lips thin, and his gaze narrows as he takes me in. He stops at my shoulders like he wants to graze my entire body but doesn’t dare. “When I was a kid, my brother taught me. He took lessons when we were little, but he learned most of it on the street. After him, I trained by myself.”
I try not to show the surprise I feel. I didn’t know Brawler had a brother. “Do you ever fight here?”
He laughs. “All the time.”
“Are you fighting tonight?”
He shakes his head. “No, just running it tonight. Or supposed to be. Now, I’m babysitting you.”
My hackles rise. “I don’t need to be babysat.”
A smirk crosses his lips. “You’re going to long for the days when you were just Nevaeh’s punching bag, Princess.”
“Stop calling me that,” I grind out, instead of focusing on what I should be. What does he mean I’ll want to be Nevaeh’s bitch again? Just how bad is Rocket?
He grins. “Not a chance. It’s even more appropriate now. You’ve caught the attention of the Goddamn prince. Congratulations.”
“Rocket?” I ask.
“You met him before tonight, haven’t you?” he accuses.
“Briefly,” I shrug, not understanding what the big deal is. “Actually, I saw him getting head from some lady in the administration office when I went to get a new lock the first day of school.”
Brawler’s eyes cloud over. He runs his hands through his cropped blond hair. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He shakes his head. “You should leave.”
“If you think I’m going to leave, you have no clue the type of person I am.”
“Obviously fucking not,” he seethes. “You come into town wearing fucking extra-large garbage bags with this meek little attitude. Then, when you step into the ring, you destroy Cherry. He may have chosen you because of it, but he won’t let that go. He’ll punish you for that.” He blows out a breath, his severe look faltering. “What the hell am I even fucking talking about? He’ll be punishing you no matter what. You’ll be feared and hated. You’ll be put on a pedestal yet treated like shit in the shadows and behind closed doors. You—”
I bite the inside of my cheek. It was never going to be safe for me inside the Crew. I just have to deal with whatever comes. “You seem to know an awful lot about what happens with girls Rocket likes.”
“I have eyes,” he deadpans. “That’s all I need.” He breathes out, deep, checking the door behind him. “You should leave. Tell yourguardiansit’s not safe for you here. Or if that’s a line, which I suspect it is, you’d be smart to get the fuck out yourself. Staying here is stupid.”
“Real words for someone who’s a part of the Crew. Aren’t you afraid it’ll get back to Rocket? I bet he wouldn’t like it if he heard you warning me off him.”
Brawler’s blue eyes blaze. It’s like someone set a fire to neon blue metal, the sparks simmering in aqua. “I’mnotpart of his Crew.”
My mouth drops, but I quickly try to mask my shock at his anger. Of course, I know he’s not technically part of the Crew, but why associate with them at all if he reacts like that?
“I run the fights for them, like my brother did before me.” Brawler moves forward, crowding me into the wall behind us. “Do you want to know what happened to my brother?” His nostrils flare. Despite myself, him pushing up against me is having the opposite reaction it should. I place my palms against the wall at my back, so I don’t do something brash like throw myself at him. This is not the time nor the place. “He’s dead.” Brawler’s tone flattens. “He gave his life up for the Crew, and he died because of it, too.”
Okay, thisreallyisn’t the time.
I search his fiery depths for real answers, but as soon as he’s said his piece, he closes himself off. I won’t be getting answers from Brawler tonight. Stepping back, he leaves my skin cold and wanting. We’re alike, him and I. The connection between us is already burning hot. I’ve felt it from the beginning but didn’t know where it stemmed from. The Crew took loved ones from both of us. That’s why he cares. That’s why he’s warned me off time and again. I recognize pieces of myself in him, and that’s why I’ve wanted to wrap my legs around him from almost the first moment. That, and his fighter physique and tattoos. I mean, I’m not immune to them. I’d have to remove my eyes for that to be true.
I highly doubt Rocket will give me the same feeling. Not that he should, but I’m already missing the ache Brawler’s awakened inside me. I haven’t felt anything like it yet. A yearning. A safe place to crawl inside that feels like we could understand each other. We’re linked in this horrible way.
Rocket’s claim won’t allow me a chance to explore this eruption of feelings I have for Brawler though. Not that my plan for the Crew would either. I close my eyes, conjuring up the images I’ve kept with me of my parents. I’m doing this for them. I tell myself there’ll be someone I meet after this who will make me feel the same way Brawler does. I don’t know much about love, but it’s just about chemical reactions and connection, right? Brawler can’t be the only guy who’s lost someone to a tragedy. Who’s also a fighter. And has badass tattoos.
I need to keep my head on straight.