Page 47

WREN

I cinched the black top and took a step back to survey my appearance.

At some point in the past few weeks, additional clothes had begun appearing in my closet.

None of the guys ever said anything about them, and I’d had too much going on to argue with them about it.

Plus, the workout gear was freaking awesome.

Now, I was happy as hell that my mystery benefactor had been at work because I had something new to wear to Franco’s fight. But the outfit meant there would be no hiding for me tonight. The top was far more risqué than I’d ever dared to wear before.

But it made me feel powerful, sexy, and strong. There was no disguising the scars that decorated my arms and torso, but it also meant that my mate marks from Brix, Locke, and Puck were on display. The corset pushed up my breasts, and the material below them was a somewhat see-through mesh.

I’d paired the top with black jeans that had artful tatters and tears throughout, including one that allowed my new tattoo to peek out. But on my feet were combat boots. Together, the outfit felt like the perfect mix of old and new. Of finding who I was always meant to be.

A soft knock sounded on my bedroom door, and I stepped out of the closet just as Locke appeared. He froze, his mouth dropping open and his eyes sparking with silver. “Wren,” he croaked.

I worried the inside of my cheek. “Too much?”

“Fuck, no,” he growled, stepping into my space and pulling me against him. His fingers tangled in my dark hair, tugging on one of the strands I’d curled into loose, sexy waves. “You’re the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks,” I whispered. “I feel…good.”

Locke’s expression softened, and he skimmed his lips along my neck until he reached his brand, placing a kiss there.

“We gotta go,” Puck called from somewhere else in the house. “No fucking till later.”

A laugh startled out of me as Locke let out a low growl.

“He’s such a cockblock,” Locke muttered.

“Come on,” I said, taking Locke’s hand and leading him to the door. “I don’t want to miss Franco’s fight.”

We made our way toward the front door, where everyone else was waiting. They all went silent the moment I stepped into the light, four sets of eyes pinning me to the spot.

Ender muttered a curse. “I need another ice-fucking-cold shower.”

I tried to cover my laugh with a cough, my skin heating at the memory of our encounter.

“I’m going to kill so many assholes tonight,” Brix mumbled.

“Worth it,” Puck shot back.

King stepped forward, moving so slow it was almost painful until he was right in front of me. “You look beautiful, Wren.” Then he dipped his head and brushed his lips across the worst visible scar, one right across my collarbone.

I sucked in a breath at the touch, and King slowly lifted his head until his eyes met mine. Then I closed the distance, kissing him ever so softly.

“Thanks for giving me a hard-on when we’re about to go into a roomful of dudes,” Puck muttered, opening the front door.

This time, I didn’t try to cover my laugh. I just grinned at Puck as I headed out the door. “Sorry, not sorry, buddy.”

Hard rock pulsed through the arena’s speakers. It was a full house tonight, and my guys were sticking close.

“Here you go,” King said, handing me a whiskey.

I took it from him, our fingers brushing. Then I downed it in two gulps.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Puck mumbled.

“Easy, Kitten,” Ender warned.

“I’m good,” I assured him. I had no plans to get drunk. I just needed a little liquid courage to deal with the crowd of unknowns. But it was worth it. I needed to have a life worth fighting for.

“Ten minutes in the main ring,” a voice said over the speakers. “Franco Rossi and Gabe Jackson.”

A buzz of excitement surged in my veins, and I scanned our surroundings. “I’m going to find a bathroom before it starts.”

King’s eyes went alert. “Puck, Locke, you’re with Wren. The rest of us will find our seats and do a sweep.”

None of them were drinking. I understood why, but what I wanted more than anything was a night where we didn’t have to worry about having all our faculties. A night where we could be free.

I glanced at Puck and Locke. “Come on, bodyguards. Let’s make this quick.”

The crowd was predominantly male, so I hoped there wasn’t a super long line for the bathroom. The three of us made our way down a crowded hall to two restrooms. Puck snarled at any dude who gave me a once-over, and Locke walked so closely behind me that I almost tripped.

We came to a stop in front of the ladies’ room. “I’ll be quick,” I said.

“We’ll be here,” Locke promised.

Pushing the door open, I stepped inside. I quickly did my business and rounded a corner to the sinks to wash my hands, letting the chatter of other women swirl around me. As I dried my hands, the room went silent. Too silent.

I lifted my head to check, but it was too late. A hand fisted in my hair and yanked hard. And then I was tumbling backward.