Page 41 of Blood Sport

The song reminds me of my mom and how it was her favorite song growing up. She used to tell me stories of her hitchhiking home from parties and bars with her Walkman, listening to Fleetwood Mac. I don’t remember a time in my childhood when Fleetwood Mac wasn’t playing through the record player she kept in the kitchen. It was what I looked forward to most days returning from school—watching her sway to the beat of the song as she stood at the stove, her long brown hair floating down her back in soft waves.

My mom was so stunning, and it pains me that I didn’t tell her often enough.

I vividly remember her telling me the story of when she got picked up by a stranger one night after leaving a bar when she was my age, listening to Dreams, only to find out that the stranger was actually her new neighbor once he had dropped her home. I can remember the sparkle in her eye when she recounted the memory like it was a fond one that had more to it, but she never went further than that small detail, and I didn’t think to ask.

God, I wish I would have just asked. My mom was always so carefree and loved life, and that’s how I will remember her. I will remember the special moments we shared together and never lose hope that one day I will know the truth about what happened to her, and my father, because she deserves justice.

“Evie!”

My head snaps to the side at the sound of Rylee’s voice. She and Candie are sitting beside me, their eyes focused on my face.

“Is everything okay?” Candie asks. “What were you thinking about?”

I clear my throat, shift in my seat, and tug the fabric of the dress further down my thighs. Why did I allow Rylee to talk me into wearing a black leather dress and heeled boots that sit around my calves? I should’ve fought harder to wear a simple pair of black jeans and a crop top. “Uh, nothing. It was nothing.”

The look in Rylee’s gray eyes tells me she wants to question me further, but she doesn’t get the chance because Candie squeals in excitement. I look out the window to see the taxi pulling up to the curb outside of Black Rose. Much like last time, there is a line of people waiting outside that wraps around the building.

I follow Candie and Rylee as they slide out of the backseat and we’re greeted by Jaycee as she gets out of the passenger seat, thanking the driver before he pulls away from the curb. We all link arms and walk toward the front door. Once our names are ticked off the list, we enter the bar and are immediately engulfed by strobe lights and techno music blasting from the DJ set up in the back of the room.

Just like the last time we were here, the tables are packed with people my age drinking, talking, and dancing. Nothing has changed. Except for the fact that I know the truth behind this place. As we walk toward the bar to order a drink, I try not to look around the room for a certain someone with messy curls and a lip ring. And I certainly won’t let my gaze look behind me at the staircase that leads to the top floor. Nope. Not happening.

Inhaling slowly, I nod in response to Rylee when she asks if I want the same fruity cocktail as her. I’m not fussed about what I drink tonight, just as long as it has a lot of alcohol in it. I want to make sure I drink enough to forget about Jaylen, even if it’s just for the night.

With our drinks in hand, we walk across the floor until we find an empty table. Thankfully, it’s close to the bathroom and away from the staircase. The further away I am from it, the less tempted I will be to look in that direction.

“So, is this mystery man of yours here tonight?” Candie asks Jaycee as we sit down, wiggling her brows. “I want to know who he is!”

Jaycee blushes, chewing on her bottom lip. “He said he might show up, but that’s not a promise for you all to meet him. Besides, it’s still too soon in our relationship for me to show him off. I want to make sure that we’re a solid couple before you meet him.”

Candie pouts, her brown curly hair tied into a ponytail on top of her head. “Boo, you’re no fun. I need some juicy goss before I explode.” She turns to me, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “What about you, Ev?”

“What about me?”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “Don’t think we don’t know what’s going on between you and Jaylen. We all know you went to see him after the game the other night.”

My eyes widen. “I didn’t go to see him. I went looking for Miles.”

“Oh, please. Don’t lie to us. We know all about the little crush you’ve had on him since you were kids,” Jaycee says, biting back a smile. “And we all saw the look you two shared before the game. He’s into you.”

“So now the question is what happened between you two when you went to see him,” Candie says with a smile.

“There is nothing to tell,” I say slowly, sipping on my drink. The fruity flavors mask the shot of Vodka, but I can still feel the effects of the alcohol coursing through my veins. “But I do have something juicy to share.” I gesture for them to lean forward, and they do. “Jaylen slept with Amara at some point recently.”

They all gasped at my words. I knew they would have this reaction. Hopefully, this piece of information draws them away from asking for details about what happened between Jaylen and me. Although, there really is nothing to tell.

“Seriously?” Rylee asks, her eyes wide. “How do you know?”

“When I went to find Miles, I overheard his conversation with Amara in the parking lot and it seemed like she was asking him to come over again, but he said he wasn’t interested.”

“I wonder why,” Candie smirks, nudging my arm with her elbow.

I roll my eyes. “Anyway, it seems that Amara also overheard my conversation with Jaylen after she left and went as far as threatening me to stay away from him.”

“When did this happen?” Jaycee asks, her perfectly shaped eyebrows drawn into a frown.

I shrug. “The other day. But again, it’s nothing crazy. I can handle Amara.”

“I can’t believe she would threaten you like that,” Rylee comments from beside me. “If you need us to say something—”

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