Page 6

Paige shrieks when I shove her door open, causing it to slam against the wall.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to push it that hard.” I cringe.

“What are you doing coming in here like that, anyway?” she pants, holding a hand against her chest.

“I heard some of the other workers at the bar mention a fight happening tonight. Let’s go.”

“Hard pass,” she says, returning her gaze to her e-reader.

She sits cross-legged in her hammock chair in the corner of her room, as she does more often than not when she’s at home.

I stride toward her and pull the e-reader from her hands. She looks up at me, slack jawed. “You did not just do that.”

I quickly lock the screen before tossing it on her bed.

“You’re really going to let me go alone?” I ask, raising my brow.

She rolls her eyes and then stands with a huff. “The fact that I can’t leave you unsupervised in public is concerning.”

I chuckle because it’s not that she can’t , she just doesn’t like to because I ‘always end up in trouble’.

“I was arrested one time,” I state, plopping myself onto her bed.

“For starting a fight,” she says, pointedly.

“Hey! It was his fault for cutting in line.”

“You were in line for a hotdog, Sarah,” she snorts.

“Not just any hotdog, Paige. A Frankie’s hotdog.”

With a roll of her eyes, she walks to the closet and scans for an outfit.

“I will never understand your obsession with a standard New York hotdog,” she laughs.

“First, food is my obsession.” I hold up a finger. “B, I like Frankie, so it helps make the hotdog that much more delicious.”

After changing into a pair of jeans and a tank top, Paige pulls her long brown hair into a messy bun. Once finished, she crosses her arms and pops out a hip.

“Alright. Rules.”

Falling onto my back, I groan. “Rules?”

“If you want me to go, there needs to be some rules.”

“Ugh. Fine.”

“Rule number one: you are not fighting.”

I struggle to hold in my smile. She knows me so well. I lift myself onto my elbows and look at Paige.

Her eyes bore into mine as she waits for my acknowledgment. After I nod, she continues.

“Rule number two: no drinking.”

Wasn’t planning on it.

“Okay.” I nod.

“Rule number three: when I say it’s time to go, that means we go.”

“But you always want to leave right away,” I complain.

I know she struggles being around people, especially men, but if I don’t push her, she’ll stay in her room all day, every day.

“How about.” I stand. “We stay through at least two fights, and then we can leave?” I negotiate.

Paige pulls her lips into her mouth and narrows her eyes.

Holding my hands together, I bring them up to my chin and push out my bottom lip.

When she doesn’t relent, I drop to my knees.

That pulls a snort out of her, and she places her hands on her hips. “Fine, you loon.”

I shoot up and wrap my arms around her. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.” After I release her, she moves toward the doorway.

“I’m just going to put a little bit of make-up on and then we can leave.” She tosses over her shoulder.

* * *

Paige is nearly plastered against my back as we walk toward the abandoned warehouse that houses the underground fights.

“Everything is going to be okay,” I reassure her as I reach out and pull her to my side.

“I know. It’s just…” Her sentence trails off as we step up to the entrance.

My senses are slammed with the scent of sweat and marijuana. The sounds of music, grunts, and shouting fill my ears.

My smile grows the further inside we walk. Aside from the missing scent of exhaust, this is exactly the setting I would find myself with my brothers.

Sadness and grief pulses through my chest, clouding the happiness I just felt, and I press my hand against the ache.

I was never allowed to go to places like this without at least one of them. Now… I have no choice. I shake away the emotions growing inside me and focus on the now.

Now, it’s me and Paige.

Since meeting her, an indescribable amount of protectiveness has taken control. I often feel anxious when unexpected thoughts of her getting hurt infect my mind.

She’s slowly becoming my family, and I’ll be damned if I lose that.

“There’s a spot over there.” I wrap my hand around Paige’s wrist and push through the crowd.

I glare at a few girls who are giving us dirty looks.

My brothers taught me a few things about fighting, and I never back down when it comes to defending myself or those I love, so if they keep it up… Let’s just say someone is getting throat punched.

It’s standing room only, so we stand as close to the ring in the center of the room as possible without being up against the bars.

I loop my arm through Paige’s and pull her close. “This is going to be so awesome!” I beam.

“You’re lucky I love you.” She side-eyes me.

I plant a kiss on her cheek before turning to face the ring.

Two fights, and a lost voice later, Paige and I are walking out of the warehouse.

“Did you see that guy’s tooth fly out of his mouth?” I can’t contain the adrenaline that courses through me. I’m feeling such a high just from watching the gruesomeness of this fight that I feel like I can run for days.

Paige scrunches her face is disgust. “It was bizarre to see people scramble for it.”

Yea that part was a tad overboard.

“Aside from that, it was fun, right?”

Paige’s head tips from side to side. “I mean… it wasn’t bad .”

She laughs loudly when she sees the bored expression on my face. “Okay, I had fun.”

“See what happens when you leave the confines of the apartment?” I ask, nudging her shoulder with mine.

“Don’t get used to this.” She says with a smirk.

I return her smirk. “I’m hungry,” I say, changing the subject.

“Of course,” she teases.

A flash of Xander saying the exact same thing sends a wave of grief through me. Taking a deep breath, I plaster a smile on my face and loop my arm with Paige’s.

I try my damn hardest to feel the happiness I had just felt inside the warehouse but the ache in my chest is overwhelming.

I smile, laugh, and mask the pain throughout our late dinner and each time Paige’s face strays from mine, the facade drops.

As much as I love having Paige in my life and growing closer with each passing day, the hollowness from where my soul once lived remains.

Inside, my entire being dwindles. The only time I feel alive anymore is when I am being reckless.

When I have no regard for my safety or my own life.

It’s in those times that I can feel them. Feel their spirits alongside me, both enjoying the chaos and reprimanding me for being even more uncontrolled than I was in the past.

Fuck…

Why does loss have to hurt so fucking much?