Page 28 of Pretty Lies (Watch Me Burn #1)

He opened the door wide, relief filling me as I stepped inside, gripping my bag tightly.

“Thank you. I have a change of clothes.”

“Bathroom’s in the back. Get changed then head towards the cage. You’ll get put on the list, you know the drill,” he grunted, shooing me away to get ready.

Snickers and laughter filled the air around me, a few people staring at me with amusement as I made my way through the crowd. It reeked of cigarettes and alcohol in here, the air hot from all the bodies.

I smelled the metallic scent of blood as I passed the cage, my fingers twitching at the thought of tearing someone apart.

The bathroom was as gross as it had always been, and I screwed up my nose at the smell of piss.

Once I’d checked for cameras, I stripped out of my uniform and left myself in my sports bra, pulling on some shorts before stuffing everything back into my bag. I considered keeping my knife on me, but going against the rules here was a bad idea, so I slipped it into my bag.

I walked towards the bar once I was done, leaning on it to try and get someone’s attention. A guy covered in tattoos from the neck down approached me from the other side, already shaking his head.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you walk through the door in a high school uniform. I’m not serving you.”

“Oh, I don’t want a drink. Can I put my bag behind the bar?” I asked, his eyes narrowing.

“That’s it?”

“Well, yeah. There’s nothing really valuable in my bag, just uniform and books, but I don’t want my knife stolen. I’ll come and get it when my fight’s over,” I promised, his head slowly nodding.

“Fine. Hand it over.” I passed it across the bar and watched him stuff it underneath, then he jerked his chin towards the cage. “You ever been in one of those before? There’s better ways to rebel against your daddy that won’t get you killed.”

He looked familiar, so I knew I’d probably seen him here when I was younger.

“I know, it’s not my first rodeo,” I smiled, thanking him before making my way to the cage, warming up once my name was on the list. People kept staring at me, but I ignored them, stretching my arms and legs while praying I didn’t hurt myself too badly.

My anger and humiliation was burning deep, so the last thing I needed was to get my ass handed to me here too.

When the name Donovan was called out, I took a deep breath and moved towards the gate, stepping into the cage and shaking out my arms. Nerves flicked through me, knowing I could get seriously hurt, but I’d always known how to fight dirty if I had to.

I shut out all the panic, the crowd, and the bright lights, focusing on the steady thump of my heartbeat as I paced the cage, waiting for my opponent to step inside.

I was surprised to see a familiar face walk in, the blonde girl with light brown eyes seeming just as surprised to see me.

“Mule?” I never knew her real name, but the girl fought with her feet and kicked like a Mule, hence the name. She also attended Hawthorne Heights High.

“Donovan? The hell are you doing here?” she asked, running her gaze over me. “I heard you moved into some rich cunt’s house.”

“It’s temporary until Max fucks it up. You know how he is,” I answered. Mule’s father was in prison due to something connected to my father, so we’d bonded over our fathers being assholes.

We weren’t friends in the slightest, but we’d trained together a bit.

“My dad got shivved last year. Bled out in his cell.”

“You get all the luck,” I scoffed, her mouth curving into a smile as she stepped forward to tap fists with me.

“Good luck.”

I’d fucking need it, but I wasn’t about to tell her that.

It started slow, but by the end of our fight, we were both dripping with blood, sweat coating our skin as I struggled to get her down to the ground while narrowly avoiding her feet.

I slammed my fist against her nose, the distinct crack reaching my ears as my other fist collided with her temple, effectively knocking her out.

The crowd roared as money changed hands, bets flowing as people realized I knew how to fight. Mule was carted away, but the blood was left on the floor as someone else stepped into the cage, starting the process all over again.

This one I didn’t know, but I noticed a scar on their knee, telling me they’d injured it before.

It hadn’t taken me long to use that to my advantage, making them fall like a sack of shit as I kicked my foot out, their knee popping loudly as they screamed in agony.

I was pounding my fists into the fourth fighter’s face when I was suddenly yanked off them. I spun around and went to swing at my attacker, but my eyes met Skeeter’s sharp gaze as he pinned me firmly against the side of the cage with his tattooed arm, his voice low so only I could hear him.

I was surprised I could hear anything over the loud beating of my own heart.

“Enough,” he demanded, his voice stern. My adrenaline was pumping so hard that I wasn’t even freaked out about being contained by a man I barely knew, reacting in the opposite way as I tingled with need.

He pressed his body against mine to keep me in place as he noticed my eyes narrow with every intention to fight him off when I snapped out of it.

“Fuck off, Skeeter. You don’t—” I started to fight against him, but he held firm and glared at me.

“Calm the fuck down or Slash will throw you out. We like a good bloody fight, but we don’t like burying bodies if we don’t have to.

Got it?” I was still fired up and fighting mad, but I nodded, his body instantly moving back to let go of his hold on me, jerking a thumb behind him towards the middle of the cage.

“All of what just happened? You’re going to talk to me about it right fucking now. Follow me.”

I went to argue but decided against it as the threat of violence reflected in his eyes, and I followed him through the crowd of cheering people until we reached an office out the back that I’d never been allowed in before.

“Sit,” he demanded sharply, pointing to a chair in the corner near a desk, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and some glasses from the cupboard. He sat down at the desk and poured me a glass, pushing it towards me before looking at me seriously. “Now, what the fuck was that? What are you doing here?”

I downed the whiskey, ignoring the sting it left on the cut on my lip from the fight. I felt alive, and I thrived on the pain it gave me.

“I started fighting as a way to deal with my pent-up rage years ago. You guys stopped allowing underage fighters, so I stopped coming here, but I needed this tonight.”

He handed me the bottle and watched me pour another drink, dumping his cigarettes on the table with a lighter before pushing the ashtray towards me.

I wasn’t dumb enough to think he cared, he was just nosey.

“Why the fuck are you here tonight then, kicking the shit out of our best fighters, instead of cozied up in that big fucking mansion of yours? It’s common knowledge around Ashburn that you’re on Holloway’s dick, so save me your bullshit excuse as to why he’d let you come here alone.

He’d never allow it, and we both know it. ”

“Are you going to let me fight again if I talk about it? Because I’m going to get angry again.”

“We’ll see,” he muttered, waiting for me to speak as he watched me intensely.

I lit a cigarette and took a long drag, glaring at the glass in front of me. I didn’t want to talk about my morning, but I also knew he’d throw me out if I didn’t.

At least if I told the truth, he might pity me and let me back in the cage.

“Caden and his boys put on a nice little show at school today about how they played me. I was a joke to them. They fucked around with me to make me trust them, just to try and break me, and they even stole my damn diary. I also learned today that the man my dad lent me to as a rape gift to pay off his debts years ago, was none other than Tristan fucking Holloway, and I had no clue until they laughed about it this morning in front of the entire school. So, excuse me if I’m bleeding out your money makers, but this is the only place I knew I could go to burn some anger without going to prison.

I’m nearly eighteen, they’d charge me as an adult. ”

His eyes narrowed, something changing in him as he sat back with a thoughtful expression on his face, tonguing one of his lip rings as he watched me.

“That’s why you didn’t shake my hand when we met? You don’t like people touching you?” he asked, waiting for me to nod before continuing. “And they made you trust them by pretending to like you?”

I stared at my cigarette, the smoke twirling into the air.

“I don’t like touch from anyone, but it wasn’t so bad when it was them.

” I swallowed, forcing down the lump in my throat.

“I’ve never let anyone touch me in that way, but I let Caden into my bed.

I guess it’s my fault for letting my guard down and believing someone would want me for more than just a laugh. ”

He eyed me as I finished my cigarette, and he finally let out a sigh.

“Not going to lie to you, babe. Holloway’s one of my boys, but even I know he’s full of shit if he claims you don’t mean anything to them.

Jensen’s soft with you when he’s usually the hard-ass out of all of them.

Ty doesn’t share his powder with just any girl either, and apparently, him and Slash got you pretty fucked up on it on Friday night.

Lukas has a neon sign that literally says he loves you, so that’s obvious. ”

“Jensen tried to back out, but it was too late. Lukas was too much of a pussy to tell me what was going down today, but too much of a pussy to be part of it too.” My fists clenched and my knuckles burned, drawing my eyes to the blood coating them.

“I don’t ask for much, but loyalty is one thing you don’t fuck with. ”

“I can understand that,” he said bluntly.

“They’re stupid, and they fucked up, so let them wallow in the choice they made.

I’ll let you fight, but don’t kill anyone.

I mean, everyone knows nothing turns me on faster than a chick with a criminal record, but I don’t want to add to mine.

Okay?” He smiled slightly at his joke, motioning for me to leave the room, but he spoke again just as I stood.

“I don’t give a fuck about what game Holloway played.

They wouldn’t have bet on the fact that you’d still have someone on your side.

Want me to threaten him with my gun? For shits and giggles?

I bet those rich boys would piss their fancy pants. ”

“I like to fight my own battles, but thanks. I slashed three of Caden’s tires when I left school to fuck up his insurance, so he knows I’m pissed. He wasn’t that good in bed anyway, so who’s really missing out here, right? He did me a favor.”

The lie left me easily, and he burst out laughing, a real smile hitting his lips. “I like you, Donovan. You want a good fuck, you come find me. I wouldn’t turn you away.”

My core clenched at the invitation but I just rolled my eyes and excused myself, acting like the thought didn’t both excite and terrify me at the same time.

Skeeter was like a walking sex machine, but I doubted anyone left his bed unscathed. I had enough scars and didn’t need to add to them.

Once I was back in the cage, people started cheering, and I knew I was in for a long night of inflicting pain, even if it wasn’t on those who deserved it, trying to ignore the fact that Skeeter was watching from the sidelines.

I didn’t see him again once I was done though, so I headed to the bar and grabbed my bag, starting the long walk home.

Luckily, the house was empty when I got there. Either that or everyone was in bed since the clock on the wall said it was three in the morning.

I headed straight up to my room for a shower, dragging a chair under my door handle to stop Caden from possibly breaking in while I was asleep.

I crashed out hard, dreaming of blood, violence, and tattooed fingers stroking my skin.