Page 35 of Ignite

“Me?” He presses a tattooed hand to his chest. “You’re asking me that?”

“Yes,” I mutter.

“You talking about the girl you were meeting the night of the crash?”

“Yeah,” I say quickly, hoping he doesn’t catch the truth.

He always does.

“What’s there to lose?” He shrugs. “Text her. Worst case, she ignores you. Then you find your next victim for the woods.”

I clench my fist. Asshole.

“Or… you chase her directly into the woods?” His grin sharpens.

“Got it.”

Hallie liked it rougher. Wonder how she’d handle my kind of chase. I bet she’d run. I bet I’d catch her.

The door clicks shut behind him.

My palms are sweating as I dig through my gym bag for my phone.

I texted myself from her phone in the hospital. I find the message and hover my thumb over the screen.

This feels more dangerous than stepping into a ring.

I type fast before I lose my nerve.

Me

Hi, trouble. You okay?

It sends. Too late to take it back.

I stare at the screen. Has she read it?

Fuck.

I shouldn’t have sent it. She’s ghosting me. She doesn’t want to see me. She didn’t even come to check my stitches.

I pace the mat, phone clutched in my fist. I feel crazy.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I should’ve just let her go.

But I swear I felt something. That spark my mom used to talk about. The one that tells you she’s it.The one.I wasn’t even looking.

Two minutes pass. Still no reply. No read receipt.

I consider throwing the phone into a wall. Or off a cliff.

No. What if she replies?

I laugh through my obsessive psycho moment, tossing the phone onto the mat. I rake a hand through my sweaty hair.

I need to get a grip. I’ve got a fight in a couple of weeks and no damn trainer. Time to focus on that.

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