Page 110 of The Wrecked One

“You’re going to be okay tomorrow. I’m not giving you a choice.” Mason’s words managed to compete with the mini Bose speaker, hitting my ears just fine. “Mya never looked at me the way she does you, and like hell am I letting her lose you. Got it?”

I was sweaty as fuck, and yet, chills flew down my bare back. I stole a look at my brother’s ID tags where I’d rested them on the bench, wishing he’d be in my corner tomorrow night. He’d be in my head, at least. I’d carry him with me that way.

“Is this what you want to talk about? Threaten me not to die?” I slowly faced him, finding him standing at the center of the mat.

“Pretty much.” He shrugged.

“You sure you’re not down here to take a few shots at me?” I arched a brow and moved to meet him on the mat, opting not to use my mouthpiece if he wasn’t going to.

“I don’t want to hit you, Oliver. Looks like you already had the sense knocked back into you, so you’re good there.” For whatever reason, I believed him. Maybe he really had moved on? Although, I had no clue how anyone could ever truly move on from a woman like Mya.

“You still love her?” Not what I’d meant to say, but there it was.

Mason’s shoulders lifted and fell in one sharp movement before he removed the headgear and tossed it. Definitely not what he’d expected to talk about, either.

“I’ll always love her. I’ve known her most of my life, and she’s important to me. But do I think she’s the love of my life?” He patted his heart, shaking his head. “No, or we’d be together.” His brows pinched as he studied the mat instead of me. “Sydney wasn’t Gray’s the one like you all thought, and Mya’s not mine.”

I was going to need something stiffer than water to get through this. I also never expected Mason to be so honest and self-reflective. Maybe something had changed for him in the last four months I’d been away, too.

Mason frowned. “I wasn’t planning on having this conversation now of all times, considering what you’re dealing with tomorrow, but hey, if there’s one less thing you need to worry about to help you focus in that ring, then so be it.”

“What are you saying?” He’d need to use small words and spell this out for me, I was too tired to read between the lines.

Mason opened his hand, waving it through the air. “I have no intention of being the kind of friend who hopes you screw up so I can make my move on her one day. I think it’s important you know that.”

“Well, I have no plans to mess up, but if I do, you have the permission you don’t actually need to fuck me up for it.”

“Another thing we can agree on, because I’ll for sure kick your ass if you hurt her.” He shot me a causal, It is what it is, look that I actually appreciated. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know I have every intention of respecting what you two have. I won’t be texting her, or asking her to hang out just the two of us. I’ll happily be a third wheel, though.”

“Maybe one day”—I cleared my throat, feeling damn awkward—“you’ll be the, uh, fourth wheel, because you’ll find your person.” I shook my head. “Forget that thought. I don’t want to think about wheels or hubs now after The Collective used the Sorens to . . .” I let my words trail off, knowing he’d understand. “You know what I mean.”

“So, we good?” He took a step across the center of the mat and offered his gloved hand.

I stared at his peace offering, feeling like this was somehow one more piece of the puzzle Mya and I both needed to truly move forward. “We’re good.” Shaking his hand, I locked eyes with him. “But you’re not getting off so easily.” I couldn’t help but grin, finally feeling oddly lighter in both body and mind. “Put the helmet back on, and help me prepare to kick some motherfucking ass tomorrow.”

42

MYA

The safe house should’ve been active with chatter and weapons preparation, calls coming and going, but it was the opposite. Nearly dead quiet with half of our team not there.

Jack and Griffin were meeting with the McGregors and Sebastian Renaud about the final plan, and likely multiple contingency plans. Sydney and Easton were doing the same with our Marine friends. Jesse and Oliver were downstairs prepping for the fight. Wyatt, Teddy, Bravo and Charlie Teams were doing a recon mission at the island. And honestly, I had no clue where Carter and Gray were.

So, it was just myself, Mason, and Gwen in our temporary command center, going over everything we knew for the millionth time.

When the information on my screen started to become a blurry mess, I removed the blue light glasses Sydney had lent me and rubbed my eyes.

We were four hours from go time, and if Oliver didn’t come up soon from practicing, I’d have to go and drag him away like I had the night before. He needed to preserve some of his energy before the fight.

When I’d gone looking for him that time, I’d been pleasantly surprised to see him laughing at something Mason had said. I hadn’t even known Mason had offered to spar with him, but seeing them get along felt like another step in the right direction for us. The laugh passed between them was the cherry on top of that moment.

Now, Mason sat on the edge of Gwen’s desk as she worked on her laptop. When he began going over the facts about our destination as if we hadn’t already done it a hundred times already, my eyes glazed over. Maybe I needed to rest before the big night myself?

“Seven hundred and fifty acres of land. A man-made island constructed from reclaimed sand. Several linear corridors. Ninety percent of the place is terrain, not buildings, without many positions for overwatch.” Mason flicked the iPad screen in his hand. “The entire north side of the island has absolutely no cover. Anyone caught out in the open there would be picked off, so that’ll be a dead zone for both sides.”

“And if we have the blueprint of the island before it became deserted,” I grumbled in frustration, “then so do the Sorens.” That was also a fact we’d brought up so many times I’d lost count. It really would be a “fair” playing field.

“Anyone else feel like we’re all being dropped onto this island like we’re inside the Hunger Games?” Gwen pushed her laptop away and leaned back in her swivel chair. “While a bunch of assholes watch over us and make bets? We’re from District Good Guy. The Sorens from District Hell.”

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