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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Cassius

The buzzing in the air has my blood roaring.

I’m grinning as I enter the skate park in the late hours of the night. Already prepared, I whip off my shirt and tuck it into my back pocket, hoping for a good fight. I make my way down a slope and skid, looking around for Knox. It’s when I see him by the pit, standing next to Rhys and Everest, that I have to do a double take.

“What the hell?” I say, no malice in my voice, just sheer surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Everest grins brightly, stepping away from Rhys so he can look into the pit. “It’s so cool. When Knox told me about it?—”

“Knox told you about it,” I repeat, narrowing my eyes at the man in question. “Really?”

Knox doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty as he shrugs. “We’re rekindling our friendship. Deal with it.”

I can’t be mad at that. Knox has been surprisingly forthcoming about what happened with him and Everest a few months ago. Apparently, they were best friends at one point, before Everest got with Rhys, and before Knox repeatedly tried to get with him, regardless. I don’t blame Everest for taking time away from him—because it sounds like Knox really was the asshole in that situation—and Knox doesn’t seem to hold any lingering resentment.

I raise an eyebrow at them. “Rhys?”

He scoffs. “As if I was letting Everest come to this alone.”

“Right,” I mumble, sneaking a look at Knox. “And you’re chill now? It’s over? The dick-swinging contest can cease?”

Knox snorts as he up-nods at Rhys. “I give as good as I get from now on.”

“Then don’t provoke me,” Rhys mutters between gritted teeth.

“Alright, alright.” Everest laughs, stepping between the two of them. “This isn’t why we’re here. Unless you two are planning on jumping into the pit, I want to watch Cass fight.”

“Amen.” I chuckle as I pat Everest on the back. Glancing down at the pit, I see there’s already a fight in progress, so I decide to bum a cigarette from Rhys when he pulls out his pack. “Thanks, man.”

“I’m curious,” Rhys says as he lights his cigarette. “Do you really think this is a good idea?”

Knox snorts with a shake of his head as I quirk my eyebrow. “What?”

“I’m not trying to judge,” Rhys says quickly, holding up a placating hand. “I’m really just concerned. I’ve heard about these kinds of fights, and they can get intense. Just…”

Everest frowns and pats Rhys’s arm. “I think what he’s trying to say is that we wonder if you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

I know all of this is coming from a place of worry. They’re my friends, and I guess they have a right to be, but I can’t lie and say I’m not annoyed. They don’t realize they do it, but they all treat me with kid gloves. They do it with Skylar too, but it’s in a different way. With him, they protect his feelings, are extra kind to him, and always have a nice thing to say. With me, they tiptoe. It’s like they all think I’m going to snap at any second, and it pisses me off.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Woah,” Knox says as his eyes widen. “Calm down, Cassius. It was just a question.”

“No, they think I’m an idiot,” I snap, my hands balling into fists. “Why don’t you just come out and say it, Rhys? You’re the genius, aren’t you? What do you really mean?”

Rhys squares his shoulders, but there’s a flicker of hesitancy in his eyes. After a moment, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not trying to start an argument here. It’s just… Why are you doing this? Really . What’s one good reason for wanting to beat the shit out of random strangers?”

That makes me pause. I… I’m doing this for Skylar. I’m doing this for our future.

But maybe… Maybe I like it? Because it gives me the kind of rush I need? Because it makes me feel in control, alive, and like I can do whatever the fuck I want? Because?—

Because of Skylar .

I’ve always fought because of Skylar. Growing up, it was to protect him. I made sure every bully in school was beaten to a pulp for even glancing at him the wrong way. I threatened and hurt every big kid in our shitty foster home who ever dared to lay a hand on him. If I could have hurt the assholes who ran that place, I would have.

Rhys won’t say it, but it’s written all over his face. When I let myself think about it, maybe…

“No,” I answer Rhys’s unspoken question. When the roar of the crowd dies down, I take a step back. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s time to fight.”

Before they can say anything else, I jump into the pit, but when I glance back, I see Knox giving Rhys a pointed stare. I try to shake off my anger at him because he’s only trying to be a good friend.

But denial is a cruel bastard.

When I approach the commissioner, he smiles widely. “Hey!”

I clap his hand and up-nod. “Got anything for me tonight?”

“For you, always.” It seems that my fights are pretty entertaining for the crowd and bring in good money. Apparently, to a man like him, that makes us best friends. “How about an easy win tonight. I’ve got a newbie who wants to wet his beak.”

I shake my head. I need more than that tonight. I can’t explain why, but it’s just this sort of burning sensation in my chest. This heat that sizzles down to my bones. Something intense and needy and desperate. “Not tonight. What else you got?”

Biting down on his lip, he thinks it over. “Okay, okay. I see what you’re getting at. Get yourself ready, and I’ll bring you someone new.”

I thank him with a nod and head over to the center of the pit. Gearing myself up for what I hope is a decent fight, I jump on the tips of my toes. I tip my neck back and forth until I feel the satisfying crack. When I see my opponent, I grin.

This is going to be a good one.

The guy is huge. Not just in height, but he’s wide as fuck. He looks like a truck, like he’s taken too many roids for his own good. But his size doesn’t intimidate me. I’ve fought big guys before and always came out the winner.

Just like I plan on doing tonight.

Once he’s right in front of me, we both look at the commissioner and wait for his signal. As soon as he tips his chin, the fight starts.

And it’s way too fucking easy.

Just because he’s big doesn’t mean he knows how to use his size to his advantage. He’s slow, sluggish, and it makes everything he does predictable. He doesn’t put his weight behind his punches, and it makes them superficial at best. Sure, he gets a few hits in, but I absorb them all the way I’ve learned how to.

But at least I know how to fight.

So I use my size to my advantage. I put my weight behind my punches. I make sure to inflict maximum damage with each move. So perfectly timed. Almost like a dance.

It makes me feel like a fucking king .

When the fight is over, and the blood is spilled, I roar. I beat my hands against my bare chest and do a spin for the crowd. I take in their cheers, their boos, their attention. Looking down at my weak opponent, I spit at his feet.

Because I won.

And I’m going to fucking celebrate tonight.