Page 36 of Darkened Truths
I blush and try to cover my smile. “Thanks.”
He takes my hand and tosses a goodbye over his shoulder to Ava. I don’t even think he noticed she’s dressed for the evening either. He parked his SUV outside and opens the door for me. I go to climb in, but he presses me against the side of the car, holding me in place with his hips. His lips meet mine in a scorching kiss and I’m panting when he finally pulls away moments later.
“You play dirty, Sugar Plum.” I blink up at him.
He laughs when I use the nickname on him. “I said something nice, not something that makes me want to fuck you against the side of the car, Hellcat.”
The thought of him following through with his desire has my stomach twisted up in need. Most of our training sessions end up with a makeout and dry humping session that may or may not result in me having soaked panties. We haven’t breached that line. I know he’s holding back and I know I should, too. But while Julien still feels like a tormentor and Zander tries to avoid me most of the time, Wesley…doesn’t. He’s constantly helping me. It’s unsettling how quickly he’s shifted from tormentor to something dangerously close to a friend.
“Wes,” I say his name in a breathy tone, but he shakes his head.
“Get in. We don’t wanna be late.”
I climb in and fasten my belt, sitting in my hands, an anxious gesture I do from time to time. He gets behind the wheel and starts the car, pulling out of the parking lot faster than I would have. He doesn’t talk, but keeps glancing at me like I’m about to disappear. Nervous energy bubbles in my gut like a jacuzzi. He’s really attractive, and it makes me feel inferior to him and the others. How is it they can make me feel this way? Desired, but unwanted at the same time.
We pull into a small parking lot with only a few cars. There aren’t any buildings around and I slowly unbuckle my seat belt, unsure. The last time he brought me for a ride, I ended up getting chased through the woods by a psycho Julien and blackmailed into sucking him off. My face flames with the memory and I rub my cool hand over my cheek, hoping it goes away without Wesley noticing. He helps me out of the car and takes my hand, leading me down a path that looks vaguely familiar but also not in its darkened state.They should really invest in more lights around. It’s only September, but campus is going to be shrouded in darkness come winter.
We stop in front of the old, burnt, abandoned building and I bite back a laugh. “Are you serious?” He grins at me. “Isn’t it dilapidated or something? It’s been on fire.” But even as I say it, I can hear a cacophony of sounds coming from inside. I expect more people to be milling around outside, but no one is here.
“Where’s everyone?”
“Inside.” He ushers me in front of him and opens a heavy door for me to enter first. “Come on. I’ve saved us seats in the front.”
The scent of bodies and booze smack me in the face. Not entirely unpleasant, but also not the best. It’s warm inside, andI imagine it’s from the amount of people milling around. Wesley scans a QR code on his phone and the large man nods at him once it’s accepted. I’m momentarily blinded until my eyes adjust to the bright light in the center of the room, a boxing ring standing proudly in the middle.
We weave our way through the crowd and I search for anyone familiar. This school is small enough, with only four hundred students enrolled. I’ve gotten to know many of the faces, even if I don’t know names. Men of various sizes and ages move around the space with familiarity. They are too old to be students, and none of them look like teachers I’ve met. Some are with beautiful women dressed to the nines, and some who seem to be with a crowd of buddies instead. There aren’t many students here, so I find it interesting that it’s held on campus. How many of these people are parents of the students here? How many people travel for these matches?
“Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Just need to check on something.” I nod, only half listening as my eyes drift from face to face. I swear I see a few glances of recognition, but none seem to care enough to investigate. In a way, I’m thankful. One less thing that will make it onto gossip sites. “I’m serious, Riley. Don’t move.” I hold up my hands in surrender and widen my eyes, the “okay” written across my face. With a final nod of satisfaction, he hurries down a darkened hall, leaving me alone in a crowd of strangers.
I’ve never seen a fight before. It’s not my thing generally, but already it seems like fun. People place bets, talking, laughing, and cheering. I listen to conversations happening all around me and smile when the woman behind me tells a stupid joke. The energy in the room is electrifying. I’m giddy sitting in my seat watching everything unfold around me. A couple sit down next to me and smile politely, and I nod at them in greeting. There are whispered words around me, and I get antsy sitting here,waiting. Where’s Wesley? I stand to expel some of my nervous energy and to locate my date for the night. My gaze circles the room, finally settling in the direction he left in. Glimpsing up at the ring, my stomach drops, and my heart races. I inhale on a shaky breath and lick my lips as the devil himself stares down at me.
Julien.
His bare broad chest and muscles in places I didn’t think they could be, have my attention. Of course, he has a six-pack. I’m almost annoyed that he looks like a perfectly chiseled Greek god standing up there in only shorts. He continues to wrap his knuckles with white athletic tape, his green eyes staring holes into my soul. I should have known when Wesley ran off that something was up. He was going to check on his friends. He never offered the names of the fighters, but I never asked. I didn’t think it was important.
My stomach flips as I think about him hitting someone tonight. And worse yet, being hit in return. I don’t want Julien to get hurt, even if he is an asshole to me. He’s important to Wesley, and Wesley is quickly becoming important to me. I peek behind Julien and Zander is in the ring's corner, eyes also trained on me.
Shit.
Julien shakes his head the moment Wesley finds his way back to me and circles his arms around my waist, pulling me against him, and tilting my chin up for a kiss. The one he gives me isn’t short or sweet. It’s demanding, and full of dark promises, and it makes my pulse quicken at the prospect of more. Even over the crowd of people, I swear I can hear Julien’s low growl of displeasure. I peek at him without breaking the kiss until Wesley finally pulls away himself. Julien’s jaw tightens and his chest rises and falls rapidly as he secures the gloves to his hands. So angry. And so hot. I’m getting used to his moody side,even if I don’t agree with his actions. I wonder what will happen when I finally see him smile. Gasp! Does Julien even possess the ability? Or if he tries, will he drop dead of a heart attack because it finally started to beat again?
Zander doesn’t look any happier as he grinds his teeth and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes focus out on the crowd away from me as his mouth tugs down into a frown. He says something to Julien, and he focuses on whatever Zander is looking at. I pull away from Wesley and scan the crowd until I find what has his rapt attention. Ava and Nick. She’s not even aware he’s looking at her as she smiles up at Nick and then laughs at something he says, her curls bouncing with the motion.
Double shit.
Wesley turns his attention now as well, and I hear him growl in frustration. “What did you do, Hellcat?” He asks through clenched teeth.
“Nothing. This isn’t my doing.” Okay, so that may not be entirely the truth, but how much trouble can she really get in? “Why didn’t you tell me Julien was fighting tonight and that Zander would also be here?” I scold, smacking Wesley playfully in the chest. He takes my hand in his and laces our fingers together, pulling us down into our seats. I didn’t need to see them. It’s hard enough making it through classes with them throughout the week, but I don’t need my weekends filled with their hateful glares and scowls.
“Because I wanted you here with me, and Julien doesn’t control everything.”
The bell rings, and the referee steps into the ring to start his announcements. Julien walks to the opposite corner and lowers his head, listening to Zander. This isn’t good. I bite my lower lip and play with the hem of my sweater, a wave of nervous energy coursing through me.
“Wwwwwelcome to fight night!” The announcer booms into the mic, making the crowd cheer and go wild. “In this corner,” he points to a large guy with dark hair and a smattering of hair over his large muscled chest and abs, “we have Axel!” The announcer's voice booms as he drags out Axel’s name. Axel gets a decent amount of excitement and whoops, but a fair amount of boos as well. It appears it may not be tonight's favorite, but from the looks of it, there have been a decent number of bets on him. The announcer turns and extends his arm in the opposite corner. “And in this corner,” he pauses, allowing time for the cheers to ramp up, “Julien!” The crowd goes crazy! I look all around the stands and I can’t help but be excited for him with all the people making a racket, supporting him. Clearly, he’s a fan favorite, and I feel a small sense of pride because I know him.
He hates me, and the feeling is mutual, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him beaten to a pulp. Even if this was his choice to fight.
“What happens if he loses?” I ask Wesley over the noise of the crowd.
