Page 83 of Dukes of Peril

Ding

The doors slide open with a rusty grinding sound, and then Sy is there, yanking the gate open. I get a flare of envy when Lavinia leaps at him, Sy catching her with both arms like he was anticipating it, but it melts away just as quickly as I watch her gasp into his neck, chanting, “I did it, I did it…”

My brother’s always been good at helping others train, so he doesn’t even look awkward when he cups the back of her head with his big palm, saying, “Nice work, Lucia.”

I hold the door, feeling so tense that I need the break, too.

He glances at me to ask, “All good, brother?”

Giving her a worried look, I shrug. “I told her about the crickets.”

Sy snorts, ducking his head to catch her gaze. “He never did get over that thing in second grade. How about you?” He brushes her hair back, searching her eyes. “Status report, Lucia.”

She shakes her head, a little of the color coming back to her cheeks. “I fucking hate that thing.”

Sy nods. “I know.”

Inhaling deep, she seems to rally herself, spine stiffening. “And I have to ride it back up.”

“You’re sure?” I ask, but this time it isn’t cowardice that’s driving it. Seeing the spark of victory in her eyes, I want her to know–to feel, without any doubt–that this is all her.

She glances at the doors leading outside, and then to my brother. “Losers aren’t allowed through the doors, right?” The smile she gives is watery and weak, but it makes something inside of me unwind at the sight of it.

Sy gives her a slow, stony grin. “No losers here.”

Squaring her shoulders, she finally lets him go, turning to me. “Okay,” she says, sounding far more convincing than she had upstairs. “Let’s do this, Bruin.”

Sy grabs my arm to hold me back as we watch her enter the elevator again. In a low voice, he says, “Help her keep her breathing under control. In through the nose—out through the mouth. It’s okay to distract her from intrusive thoughts or panic.” He gives me a longer, considering look. “The cricket thing was a nice touch.”

I flip him off as Lavinia begins clutching for me, dragging me back to her. “I’ve got this.”

The ride back up is a little easier.

Her body still trembles, strung tighter than piano wire, and she’s still making these little gasping whimpers, but I get halfway through a story of my harrowing second grade cricket war before thedingsounds.

This time, I’m prepared. The door slides open and I instantly roll her out of my hands to Remy, who steps in the elevator the second he can.

Then he grabs her hand and shoves it down his pants.

“What the fuck?” I snap.Jesus. I kept my dick completely out of this.

“Just showing her a touch point,” Remy explains, ducking his head to watch her fingers trace the crescent moon tattooed beside his hip.

“That helps?” I ask, both confused by this ritual of theirs and annoyed that I’m not a part of it. I’ve got tattoos for days.

“Yeah,” she says, looking up at him. My Little Bird looks wrung out and halfway to falling apart, but she doesn’t. She firms her jaw and says, “Because I know he’ll find me.”

“Always.” He brushes her hair off her face. “Are you okay?”

She shudders an exhale. “Yeah, I think so. It’s… a little easier?” She doesn’t sound convinced, but she sounds like she wants to be. So when she pulls away, shaking out her arms, I already know what she’s going to say. “Ready for the second bout?”

There’ssomething satisfactory about seeing a douchebag get his ass kicked, even if he is DKS.

It would feel even better if I was the one pummeling Bruce in the ring, but Wicker Ashby is surprisingly agile. Especially for a fucking lacrosse player.

It’s the second fight of the night, a sophomore cub, Kaczinski, having already won the first. Bruce, who’s currently getting his ass kicked, is my undercard. I’m up next, and the room is abuzz with anticipation. Mine will be the Dukes’ first real fight since our probation expired, and I’m lucky it’s me, because all three of us are itchy with the need to punch someone.

“Yeah!” Lavinia cheers when Bruce takes another hit, then freezes, looking up at us to weakly add, “I mean,oh no, get him, Bruce.”

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