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Mag moves closer to the window without a sound. “He’s not.”
“Christ. Does he think we give out free fights?”
Rocket slams his fist down on the small bar top in front of us. I jump, unable to prepare myself for his outburst. His anger seemingly coming out of nowhere.
When I glance down again, Brawler’s looking straight at me. Our gazes collide like warriors throwing down a gauntlet. Then, he turns, a smile playing over his lips as he smashes his fist into his opponent’s surprised face.
9
My heart skips a beat as the anger pulsing from Rocket settles over me like a cold chill. I had him pegged as a man that was all show. It’s not like he looks like a wuss, but people in positions of perceived power use that power to throw their weight around without backing it up. Instead, he’s fuming. A knot tightens my core, a warning that he’s not to be fucked with.
“Watch her,” Rocket orders Mag as he gets to his feet. “I’m going down to deal with this fucking mess.”
I lean over to look back down at the crowd. They’re going nuts. Brawler must be a favorite because everyone is yelling and screaming. Even from up here, I can tell the room below is pulsing with violence. The angry shouts permeate this room’s sound barrier, muting it to a dull roar. As soon as Rocket makes himself known, though, the cries turn to silence in a ripple effect. Brawler, unable to ignore the reason for the sudden change in the room, lets the guy he dragged into the fight slump to the floor.
Rocket heads out of the main room toward the locker area. Brawler brushes his knuckles against his joggers to wipe the blood away and then follows him. The crowd parts, people giving them ample room to get by.
“Jesus,” I mutter, surprised at the show of brutality and respect. To be one, I didn’t think you could be the other, but I was wrong.
Mag makes a low sound of agreement. I turn in my seat, forgetting he was still in the room with me. Nothing is going on below now. In fact, the crowd starts to scatter and leave. Looks like Brawler threw in a finale that never should’ve been.
“He’s going to be in big trouble, huh?”
Mag’s gaze slices toward me. “He’s used to it.”
I let that sentence linger in the air. I’m not touching it with a ten-foot pole. I have no idea if I can trust this Mag guy or not. Ha. What am I thinking? I can’t trust anyone here. “I’m Kyla, by the way.”
“Magnum,” he says. He shifts. The hard outline of a gun on his hip I hadn’t noticed before protrudes. I’m beginning to think there’s a pattern with the nicknames everyone has. Magnum has a gun. Brawler likes to fight. I’m pretty sure I’ve heard someone call Oscar Bat before. Johnny’s called Rocket, which I can only imagine what the hell that means. Several meanings flick through my head, but I don’t dwell on any of them.
“You’re security?”
He nods but doesn’t say another word. He just keeps staring at me, which is as unnerving as it sounds.
“Not much for talking, huh?”
He cocks his head. “Don’t mind talking. Just not when I don’t trust someone.”
I shrug and look away. Instead of staying seated, I get up and look around the room. The ladies who’d been walking around with the trays are now behind the bar, sending me dirty looks. A bunch of questions hang from the tip of my tongue, but I won’t be getting answers. Magnum is as tight-lipped as they come, and the girls all look like they would murder me to be in my position.
A phone rings, and I look around to find the source. Magnum pulls a cell phone from his pocket and holds it to his ear. “Boss.” He nods. “Of course. Yes. Bye.”
Nerves pool in my stomach. Boss could probably only be one person, and I doubt it’s Rocket. He had to have been talking to Big Daddy K.
My heart lurches, and I stare at the phone as Magnum puts it away. I’m a call away from the man who took my parents. Since coming to the Heights, I’ve moved closer and closer. My plan is working, even if it makes my stomach roil at the same time.
I pretend to not care who he was talking to and walk back to the stool I’d been sitting on. I’m getting antsy. I really don’t want to wait around here all night. If Big Daddy K is calling Magnum on the phone, that probably means he’s not here.
Relax, I scold myself. It’s not like I can just walk right up to him and take him down. I take a deep breath, trying to release all the stress I’ve been bombarded with. I’m in. I’m close. That’s all I need to accomplish right this minute. I don’t want to just kill Big Daddy K and get caught. That was never the plan. I have to bide my time. I have to make a concrete plan. I’m not ruining my life just because I want to take his. That wouldn’t give me satisfaction at all. I want to live a long and happy life after he’s gone, after I’ve made him atone for what he’s done.
The door opens then. Magnum turns stealthily, the first quick movement I’ve seen him make while he’s been here. I look around him, hoping to find Brawler. I’m admittedly worried about him, but also knowing it’ll probably be Rocket who’s come back up the stairs.
It’s neither.
“Princess?”
I stand from the stool. Oscar’s glaring at me with a confused expression. He isn’t the only one who’s surprised to see me up here.
He looks around. “Where is everyone?”