Page 120 of Keepsake

I turned to face David, slowly, with my new resolve shining behind my eyes. David’s knees buckled. I saw the moment he realized it was a mistake to share the same ring with me.

My fist flexed at the sound of Paddy calling my name. Logan’s flowery scent was so present, I felt her right there with me. I breathed her in and looked at the man who lived with my sister for thirteen years.

The nightmare of her children.

I advanced on him in a flash, my skin burning for that first contact. I punched his stomach, watching him fold in two, curses flying off him.

A smile tugged the side of my mouth. I bent over, saying it to his right ear. “This is where you die.”

David tried to straighten his spine, stepping backwards, he panicked. His eyes searched the crowd, stopping on Paddy.

I didn’t give them time to communicate. I could tell there was more here, they were in on this together, yet I knew better. Paddy wasn’t ever on anyone’s side but his own.

I stepped closer, my hook this time finding his chin, solid enough to turn his face, blood splashing to the side.

David took a breath, his eyes trying to access the situation, as he called to the crowd, “You told me he played fair.”

My eyes never left David, not interested in following their deal. Whatever Paddy said to make David agree to a fight didn’t matter anymore.

Paddy profited from pain, and it was David’s fault not to realize that.

Not holding back, I laughed, and I reached for David. Crowding him.

“Is that what he said? You came here thinking I was one of the good guys?”

His smile distorted his features. Lifeless pale green eyes stared back at me. We were face to face when I felt the cold sharp blade on my stomach.

“I came here to take it all.”

The slash came certain, the precision of someone who wasn’t a stranger to a blade. I felt the pain, the sting, and the blood oozing out.

But I also felt the rage, knowing all he wanted was the money. Nothing meant anything to him. I would have preferred if that stab was made of hate.

I stumbled back, holding my stomach with a hand, covering the slash. I glanced at Paddy, knowing he had a hand in that. He wasn’t stopping the fight for a knife. He probably guaranteed David that much.

Blood trickled down between my fingers, soaking my shorts. The crowd noticed what happened, their yells taking over the gym in a rage, tension crackling in the air. My eyes found Paddy, his leveled face watching me. Everyone else was enraged.

I finally understood their deal. He convinced David to fight by promising him a dirty fight. And then he placed a bet on David, leaving everyone else to bet on me. The giant who won multiple times.

An enraged crowd asked to end the fight and begged for rules in a place that couldn’t house fairness.

Raising the bloody hand, I pointed to Paddy with a promise.

And then, in the middle of chaos, her voice called to me.

Rawpainrippedmeapart. My throat hoarse from calling his name.

His bloody hand pointed to the man at the microphone, a silent promise that brought goosebumps to the back of my neck.

His blood.

David was always going to cheat, the blade a small symbol of how he walked through life. He was a liar, a bully, and a con artist.

The crowd moved closer, bringing me with them. The tension was visible in every face, as was their thirst for blood. They yearned for a good show, and my man’s blood was there to provide.

Before my next hiccup broke free, he changed the way he moved, his eyes on the blade between David’s fingers.

I flung myself at the ropes, sneering at my old classmate. “You’re a coward, David Murphy.”

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