Page 217 of Repairing the Wreckage

Dawson flanks my left side as we cross the short distance from the cage to our front row seats. “I had the opportunity to watch some of his training earlier this week,” he drawls. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about, darlin’.”

I peer up at him and he gives me a friendly smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I know.” I press my hand to my chest, my diamond necklace cool against my skin. “It’s still a lot.”

“That it is.” He dips his chin in agreement.

Shelby stands and hugs me as I approach our seats. “You sit here next to me, Molly. Logan’s gonna sit with Dawson.”

It doesn’t matter. We’re right in the front row.

In a daze, I give Ella a quick hug and say hi to Trinity. Wrath squeezes into the seat at the end of our row.

Backstage, I’d been freezing. Out here, it’s hotter than a frying pan. I unzip the hoodie and shrug it off, a little self-conscious in the short, showy dress now. Why had this seemed like a good idea?

“Hot damn, that looks flockin’ fabulous on you.” Shelby smooths down pieces of sequins that were flipped the wrong way from my sweatshirt.

“Thanks.” I lower myself into the short, uncomfortable metal seat. I nod to her sparkling purple jumpsuit. “I think fancy pants like yours would’ve been a smarter option, though.”

She presses her hand to her stomach. “Already had some weasel ask me if I’m pregnant, so I’m thinkin’ I chose poorly.”

She’s sitting so it’s hard to tell what would’ve prompted someone to ask in the first place. She looks stunning, like she should be on a red carpet, not in the splatter zone of a cage fight. “You look beautiful. People are dumb.”

“Thank ya.” A wicked grin lights her eyes. “Logan scared the piss outta the guy, he won’t be askin’ me that again.”

I bet he did.

“Hey, Molly,” someone says from behind me, touching my shoulder.

I whip around and find Venom and Woolly in the seats behind us. “Oh my God!” I twist to say hi. “Does Griff know you’re here?”

Venom pulls out his phone and nods. “I sent him a text earlier this week.”

I introduce them to Remy, and we promise to catch up after Griff wins.

A man with a large professional video camera stops in front of us. Shelby leans in close and whispers in my ear, “Smile and look pretty for these little worms or they’re gonna drag ya all over the Internet tomorrow.”

Grateful for the reminder, I force a bright smile and tilt my head toward her. We both wave at the camera. Shelby adds an endearing shoulder wiggle. Another man, following the camera guy, shouts, “Who are you rooting for, Shelby?”

“Stonewall! Who else?”

“You think your boyfriend’s going to win this fight, Molly?” he asks me.

Startled he knows my name, I blink a few times before answering, “Of course he will.”

Satisfied, they move down the row and stop at Dawson. He stands to talk to them longer. I take a second to glance around the arena. I recognize a few people in the front sections. Actors, musicians, a whole row of broad-shouldered guys who could be football players, men in suits who could be politicians. Cameras are being shoved in all of their faces as well.

This is…so much bigger than I thought. All of these people are here to see Griff in his first professional match against a seasoned fighter.

“Molly? You all right?” Remy taps my arm.

I nod quickly. “It’s…a lot.”

“We’re not in Johnsonville anymore, huh?” His voice holds a hint of amusement.

“Exactly.”

He puts his arm around my shoulders. “Can you handle this? Be honest. I’ll walk backstage with you right now. Griff won’t be upset. If things get rough…he’s worried about you.”

Indignant anger sparks in my chest but fizzles fast. Remy’s not trying to baby me or shut me out. He’s genuinely concerned. He and Griff probably discussed this last night.

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