Page 58 of Make Me Lie (Rich Demons of Darkwood 1)

I cocked an eyebrow at her, not sure why she would or wouldn't be expecting me to be anywhere. I'd never seen her before in my life. The only reason I even knew she was on the cheerleading team was because of the bright red cheerleaders' jacket she had draped over her arm.

"Here I am," I responded with another tight smile, picking up my plate and turning to walk away.

She grabbed my arm, her bright red nails—or should I say talons—digging into my skin. I sighed and rolled my eyes, for a second missing Jenna even though she'd dropped me the second the news had come out about my father.

I didn't blame her for that. It's not like I had gotten plastic surgery for nothing.

But still, it had been nice to have one girlfriend who'd seemed genuine. I hadn't had one since...

No. I wouldn't think about her right now.I couldn't.

"So which one are you fucking?” she asked through gritted teeth, bringing me out of my dark thoughts and into the present. Of course I wasn't surprised by her question. I knew every girl in the room was wondering that, judging by the mixed stares of loathing and curiosity I'd been getting since the moment I'd stepped into the room.

If they only knew that the guys were more likely to torture me then fuck me, I'm sure they wouldn't be feeling so territorial.

"None of them," I told her. She scoffed and rolled her eyes.

"Why would you even lie about that? I fucked Stellan and I'm still talking about it a year later." She laughed like she'd just told the best joke ever.

But I just felt sick. Unbidden images of her perfect features wrapped around the boy I'd once loved filled my head, and suddenly, not even the perfect fried pickles on my plate held any charm.

"You wish you'd fucked me," Stellan's voice interjected from behind me.

I watched as the girl flushed so red that she almost matched the color of her lips.

"Stellan," she responded in a breathy voice. "I'm not sure what you heard."

"Chlamydia isn't my thing, Vicky. I suggest you stop telling people we've fucked," he told her in a smug voice.

"Vicky" burst into tears and ran towards the door, throwing it open and barreling down the stairs so fast that it was a testament to her heel walking abilities that she didn't fall head over feet.

I popped a pickle into my mouth, suddenly feeling ravenous again.

"You shouldn't let them walk all over you," he remarked, and I gave him a hollow shrug, looking out the window to where the two fighters had started to tear into each other.

"Whatever," he snapped before stalking away.

Sighing because I'd somehow made it safely from both of them, I grabbed a couple of delicious looking brownies and walked over to the window so that I could watch the fight.

"Watch," a voice murmured, and I jumped, spilling a few cheese fries. I snarled at Remington, who was standing far too close for comfort, and he grinned a perfect smile before pressing a button on the wall.

The roar of the crowd immediately assaulted my ears, and I watched in amazement as the top part of the glass began to retract up, giving us a completely unfiltered view.

“Wow,” I said, impressed, certainly not expecting that in a warehouse that, from the outside, looked like it was going to fall apart at any moment.

“So easily impressed, princess,” Remington purred, and I sighed as I put some more food in my mouth, moaning softly because of how fucking good it tasted.

I winced as the guy wearing a tiny pair of red shorts leveled a shot right at the mouth of the other guy, the guy who called himself "Fury" if I was remembering correctly. I saw actual teeth fly out of his mouth, and then he fell face forward into the mat. "The Skull Crusher" guy began to dance around as the announcer jumped into the ring. I watched in shock as he picked up his foot and then slammed it down on the back of the fallen fighter, a move that stirred the crowd into a frenzy.

"Jack has always had a thing for the dramatics," Remington said with a bloodthirsty grin, obviously enjoying the show.

Two guys dressed in black jumped in the ring and dragged the guy off while the victor continued to dance around.

Mohawk guy—Jack, apparently—let him celebrate for a moment more before shooing him away. "The Skull Crusher" jumped off the ring and the eager crowd caught him, dragging him away from the ring.

"Thomas is going to be pretty good someday," Remington interjected, like he'd taken it upon himself to be my own personal fight guide for the night.

"Hmm," I responded non-committedly.

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