Page 117 of Fight

Chapter Twenty-Five

JASPER

Fuck, I’m exhausted, but we are all pushing to get home tonight. Back to Tiny. That’s our new home, wherever she is.

I gave up the keys to my apartment today, checked in with my siblings, and did not enjoy Bentley’s decree that I was moving for “omega pussy.” I punched him in the stomach for that comment, and then put him in a headlock until he begged for mercy, red faced and angry.

“Want to try that again?” I growl, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Does Harper know her?” he asks instead. Bentley has survivor's guilt, because he got away from our parents and she didn’t get that chance, since she was sold by then. He hasn’t been able to find it in himself to call or see our sister.

Wren says she understands, and just smiles sadly at me whenever we talk about him.

“They’re friends, actually,” I tell him. “Do you still want to go to school out here? You know I can pull strings to transfer you.”

Bentley snorts, because I can do whatever the fuck I want, and he knows it.

“Can I play football and get a degree in economics in Minneapolis?” he asks. My brother is insanely smart and talented, but he’s also a little shit for an eighteen-year-old.

“Yes,” I sigh, exasperated. “Do you want to transfer?”

“Yep,” he says with a nod. “I wasn’t starting until the spring. That’s enough time, right?”

It is if you’re me.

“I’ll get it handled. Are you going to be nice to my girl? I will not stand between you two if you’re disrespectful and she hits you,” I say. “She’s tiny, tattooed, and a badass.”

Bentley blinks at me as he nods. “Omegas can be badasses? Really? Yeah, alright, I’ll be nice. Maybe I can call Harper too,” he says softly.

“She goes by Wren,” I gently remind him. It took me way too long to get used to that. “Harper doesn’t exist anymore.”

Bentley looks sad as he nods. “That all was so fucked up,” he mutters. “I don’t think I’ll ever want to scent match to an omega. There’s so much that can happen to them. It’s easier just to fuck around and have fun. I don’t know when anything starts at the University of Minnesota. Will you help me with it?”

“I’ll send you all the information, and when to drive in, okay? I just need to make a few calls,” I say.

I didn’t plan to blackmail the president of U of M today, but he shouldn’t be going to strip clubs. It only took me thirty minutes to dig up dirt on him today, and then twenty to get whatever I wanted. A big brother’s work is never over it seems.

The rest of my time in Chicago was spent packing, giving the movers instructions, and tying up the last of my loose ends. I broke the news in a call to my fighters about the move yesterday, and they were a lot more excited than I thought they’d be.

Apparently, they’ve all been wanting to be able to get jobs outside of fighting, and are excited there will be less fights each month.

I didn’t realize that even though they’re all making enough money not to need to work, they do have interests that lay elsewhere. Falcon wants to apprentice with a tattoo artist, Aris wants to open up a mechanic shop, and the list goes on.

My fighters know eventually they’ll get hurt or won’t want to fight forever. I appreciate that they all want to have a back-up plan. I care about what they want, since we’ve gotten close over the years.

I spend a lot of time with them, and Tommy and I have always been up front about how their time is finite as an underground fighter. This life is brutal as fuck.

My fighters, outside of Gabriel, packed up yesterday and drove in, so they could get settled in before their fights tomorrow. We also placed rumors in the right gossips’ ears about a special change to the location of the fights, so they’ll be ready when the text goes out tomorrow.

There’s been a lot of prep work that’s going into this, but it’s all going to be worth it.

The underground location will be perfect for both the club I’ll be opening and the fights, which is why they’ll be able to be more spaced out. Who thought I’d ever attempt to go legit? Sure as fuck, I didn’t.

Now, as I drive into Minneapolis at ten at night alone, I groan as I struggle to stay awake. Gabriel, Tommy, and I all drove separately so we’d have our vehicles. I have boxes in my trunk piled high, and everything else is in two different moving trucks with our combined belongings.

We also surprised Gabriel with the equipment for his new business, shocking him. Tommy and I were tired of being sneaky, so as it was being loaded onto the truck, we told him, “All of that is yours by the way. Surprise!”

I don’t think Gabriel spoke for a full ten minutes before saying thank you.

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