Eraser and I walked Griff to the main office. I swallowed every embarrassing emotion trying to bubble to the surface. A guard met us and pushed Griff toward a small room to the right.

  “Get back to your unit,” he barked at us.

  “See you on the other side.” Griff waved at us.

  Eraser and I walked the long way back toward our room in silence.

  Chapter Forty-One

  Roman

  After Griff’s departure, we were herded to the cafeteria. It wasn’t until after dinner that I was able to pick up Juliet’s letter.

  I slipped it out of the envelope and stared at the torn piece of notebook paper and hurried writing. Not the pretty stationery Juliet usually used or her neat script. After I read the few lines, I understood why.

  * * *

  Dear Roman,

  I wish I had better news to share. Mr. Potter called me at school today. Mrs. Shields passed away this morning. Mr. Potter said he needs to speak to me. I don’t know why but I’m on my way to his office now.

  I’ll keep doing whatever I can to get you out.

  I love you!

  Juliet

  * * *

  My sadness for Mrs. Shields twisted together with grief over my freedom. No amount of manifesting would bring Mrs. Shields back. And it wouldn’t get me out of here any sooner, either.

  “You all right, Roman?” Eraser stood and crossed to my side of the room.

  “No.” I folded the letter and shoved it under my pillow.

  “Your girl break up with you?”

  Huh, I guess things could’ve been worse.

  “No, it’s not that.”

  “You wanna talk about it?” He chuckled. “Before Wiggles returns and starts yanking his snake.”

  I couldn’t even force a laugh. “Not really.”

  “Okay. I respect that.”

  Numbness settled in my chest.

  When it was time, I shuffled to the showers with everyone else. Like a zombie I trudged through my night routine, then crawled into my bunk.

  Eraser skipped the guided visualization. Griff’s departure had hit him hard. Even Wiggles went to sleep without shaking the bed for once.

  * * *

  A few minutes or maybe an hour later, I was so out of it I didn’t know, someone shook me awake.

  “We need you tonight.” Ollie’s foul breath washed over my face.

  “No.” I rolled away.

  Searing pain singed my scalp as he tore his hand through my hair and yanked me out of my bunk. I landed with a painful thump on the cold tile.

  “What the fuck, Ollie?” Eraser’s harsh whisper both comforted me and added to my humiliation.

  “Shut your mouth and get up. You’re coming too.”

  Eraser didn’t need to be told twice. Careful to avoid Ollie, he slid out of his bed and knelt next to me. “Come on,” he whispered.

  “I’m ready.” After Juliet’s letter, I really didn’t care what happened to me anymore. Or maybe that’s what I told myself to survive an impossible situation.

  I grabbed my sneakers and shoved them on. Ollie yanked us to our feet and pushed us out the door. Another guard, Danny, was waiting in the hallway with two other kids. They were new and I hadn’t bothered to learn their names yet. We sized each other up carefully.

  Danny’s hand landed in the middle of my back and pushed. I stumbled, caught myself and began the long march down to the basement. The haze of sleep vanished. I was hyper-alert. Aware of everything around me. Even though it was futile, I kept searching for an avenue of escape or something to use as a weapon.

  “Maintain your balance,” Eraser reminded me in a low voice. “Stay on your feet as long as you can. Keep your hands up. Clench your teeth. Tighten your stomach and shift so any body shots land on your obliques instead of your kidneys.”

  Sweat rolled down my forehead. Eraser’s last minute, desperate instructions sunk into my exhausted mind. This was happening.

  Whether I wanted to or not, tonight it was my turn to get in the ring.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Roman

  The fear left as soon as we entered the basement. Cold detachment took its place. Acceptance. My whole life had been leading to this. No one was coming to my rescue. My only goal now was to make it out of here alive and with my body in one piece.

  To do that, I’d have to win.

  “You’ve got this, Roman.” Eraser clasped my shoulder. “If that’s the kid you’re fighting,” he pointed to a tall, stocky kid stalking the opposite side of the ring, “he’s big, but no endurance. He hasn’t completed a run yet.”

  I vaguely remembered the kid being harassed and called names for walking most of the five miles we had to run each morning. Fighting me was probably his punishment.

  “Hawkins, get your ass over here,” Ollie called. “My warriors against Danny’s delinquents.” Ollie laughed and held my arm in the air. Danny flashed his middle finger at us.

  Great. So I was being used as a tool in their pissing match. At least I understood it better when it was just about placing bets and winning money. This was fucking ridiculous.

  “I’ll give you twenty-five percent of whatever I win tonight,” Ollie promised.

  I wouldn’t hold my breath.

  Focus. Griff said half the battle was mental. I had plenty of experience blocking out the world in order to survive. Except for the physical pain, this wasn’t much different.

  “Travis the street hustler versus Hawkins the foster kid!” Danny announced.

  How creative.

  The bloodthirsty bastards gathered around the ring roared with laughter. Travis came at me fast. For some reason, I expected we’d dance around the ring and size each other up before trading blows. He nailed me with a fist to my side and my jaw.

  “Fuck.” I shook off the punches and landed two of my own, to his face and chest.

  “Block, Roman!” Eraser yelled.

  I dodged a punch, sending Travis teetering forward. He recovered fast and raised his foot. I blocked the kick by snapping my hand around his shoe and yanking his leg high. Off-balance, he hopped on one foot. I pushed and he hit the floor hard. He lay there panting and staring up at the ceiling.

  Was the fight over? Could I go back to bed now?

  Or was I supposed to jump on top of the kid and punch him unconscious?

  I turned, seeking a sign from Ollie.

  The second of indecision cost me. Travis wrapped his arms around my legs and tackled me to the floor. Air whooshed out of my lungs but I managed to keep my head from hitting the concrete and rolled to the side, narrowly missing a kick to the ribs.

  So that’s how it was.

  I jumped to my feet and circled my opponent. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead and I strangled the guilt that rose over the damage I’d caused. Kill or be killed. No room for remorse.

  Travis threw a punch. I ducked left and grabbed his arm, using his momentum to spin him around and put him in a chokehold. Travis struggled. Used his weight to drop us to our knees, but I didn’t let up the pressure.

  “Yes!” Ollie shouted.

  The second I felt Travis go limp, I shoved him away. He rolled to the side, unconscious but still breathing.

  Elation over the win and the relief of finishing my first fight drowned out the shame.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Roman

  “One more,” Eraser shouted in my face.

  I completed the set of Spider-man crunches and jumped to my feet.

  “Looking good.”

  I grunted in response.

  We were both battle-worn. The nights Ollie was on shift, Eraser and I spent in the basement fighting for our lives. The fights became nastier. Bloodier.

  The guards during the day shift started to get curious about where all the bruises were coming from. Not that they did anything about it.

  And I wasn’t a snitch.

  As badly as I wanted to see the guards punished, I knew if I complained, the violence would only get worse.

  Winning money for our captors came with its perks. Guards allowed us fuller plates at dinnertime. We were allowed to keep snacks in our room. Someone gave us a proper first-aid kit so we could patch each other up after the fights. Ollie brought us new sneakers, which was dumb, because Eraser always fought barefoot. For chores, we were assigned to laundry, which was the easiest job with the least amount of restriction.

  My birthday was coming up. But I’d lost hope that I’d ever be let out of here. Why would they let their cash cow go? I was paranoid they’d tie me up in the basement and tell Ms. Simpson I’d run away or something. I stopped responding to Juliet’s letters. I didn’t know what to say to her anymore. She wrote to me about school and let me know how Pip was doing. All I had to share were stories of my nocturnal reign of terror in a pathetic underground fighting ring.

  “My uncle finally got approved,” Eraser said in a lowered voice. “I’m gonna go live with him when I get out of here.”

  I set down the medicine ball I’d just picked up. “Seriously? That’s great. When?”

  “Don’t know.” He shifted his gaze toward the door. Two other kids wandered into the gym. They froze when they saw us and turned toward the ancient treadmill and Stairmaster. “I don’t want to say anything and have Ollie get wind of it.”

  “Someone will tell him.” I gestured toward the camera in the corner. “Guards gossip about everything.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “I won’t say a word.”

  “I know you won’t.” He hesitated. “I don’t want to get out before you, though.”

  My throat tightened. “Brother,” I choked out the words slowly, “the second you get the green light, fucking run. Don’t you dare hang back because of me. I’ll be fine.”

  His uncertain stare punched me in the gut.

  “I’m serious,” I insisted in a controlled voice. “I’ll be out soon enough. They can’t keep me here past my birthday.”

  “Yeah, okay.” He held out his hand and I clasped it, pulling him in for a loose hug, careful not to crush his bruised ribs.

  Hope. There it was again, unfurling in my chest.

  What would kill it this time?

  Fight night started off normal enough. I won the first round. Eraser won his fight. It should’ve been time to go upstairs.

  “Got a new one for ya,” Danny shouted.

  The evil laughter in his voice set me on edge.

  He dragged a shivering Wiggles to the outside of the ring.

  “No.” I stared at my former roommate. “Fuck no. He’s a kid. He can’t fight.”

  Wiggles crawled to his hands and knees. Danny glared at me.

  “What’d you say, Hawkins?” Ollie asked.

  I turned toward Ollie. “I said, I’m not fighting him.”

  “Cash, get in there.” Ollie pointed at Eraser, then the ring.

  Eraser shook his head and backed away.

  Another guard stepped up to the ring. “I’ll fight him.”

  “Fuck yeah,” Ollie shouted.

  “You’re gonna fight him?” I yelled. “What a big badass, beatin’ up on a kid.”

  “No.” He stared down at me. “You.”

  I’d seen the guards challenge some of the other kids. The expectation was that you let them win. So far, they had.

  I caught Eraser’s eye and he gave me a subtle headshake.

  I threw my arms open wide and faced the other guard. “Let’s go, big guy.”

  He snarled at me and whipped off his shirt. His chest was covered in crude tattoos. Prison ink? It wasn’t like I had the opportunity to ask. He came at me fast, throwing a punch that glanced off my cheekbone.

  He had a bit of a size advantage over me, and he was quick.

  But I had rage on my side. I put my head down and charged like a bull, pushing him back a few feet before taking him to the floor.

  Fighting from the ground had seemed like a good idea. Until he quickly got me into a headlock. He bent my body in half until I couldn’t draw any air. I threw an elbow, hitting his jaw. The blow loosened his hold for the second I needed to catch a breath and throw another jab. Skin scraped off my knee as I twisted and grappled to turn myself into a less vulnerable position. I ignored the stinging and landed a punch to his chest, then his face.

  I staggered to my feet and put some distance between us.

  His labored breathing alerted me that he was up.

  The wild-eyed kids watching the fight screamed my name.

  Two more guards stood off to the side, watching with uncertain expressions.

  We outnumbered the guards.

  “Watch yourself, Hawkins,” Ollie warned. His meaning was clear. I’d put on a good show. It was time for me to lose the fight and make the other guard look like a champion.

  My opponent rushed me from behind. He came at me fast. In some kind of crazy super-human move, I crouched, grabbed his arm, and used his own momentum to flip him over my shoulder.

  He hit the concrete with a sickening thud.

  I stared at his writhing body, stunned at the move I’d just made.

  Mayhem exploded around me.

  The kids launched themselves at the other two guards.

  Breathing hard, I narrowed my gaze on Ollie.

  I hated this fucker. Hated the way he bullied kids into fights. Hated his smug face when he won money off our blood and sweat. He deserved to bleed for a change.

  “Stand down, Hawkins!” Ollie yelled.

  Blood and sweat dripped into my eye. I flicked it away.

  I hurled myself at Ollie, tackling him at the knees.

  “Roman, no!” Eraser yelled.

  I landed several punches before two sets of steel arms pulled me off of Ollie. One slammed a baton into my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.

  Another blow exploded at the back of my skull.

  Everything went dark.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Roman

  Pain throbbed through my wrists.

  My shoulders burned.

  I stopped there.

  Everything hurt.

  I groaned and blinked open my eyes.

  “Thank fuck,” Eraser breathed out.

  My arms were stretched up over my head, leaving me hanging. I put weight on my feet to take the pressure off my wrists and shoulders. I wiggled my fingers, moaning at the pins and needles sensation rushing into my limbs.

  Slowly, I turned and found Eraser in a similar position next to me. Blood stained the front of his T-shirt.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “No. Are you?”

  He shrugged and the chains holding him up clinked together. “Been better.”

  “Where are we?”

  “Solitary.”

  I glanced around the small cell. “Why are we together?”

  “Everyone at the fight is in solitary.” He let out a sad laugh. “They ran out of cells.”

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  How would the guards explain so many of us being thrown in solitary overnight to the day crew? “Surprised they didn’t just call the cops and have us carted off to jail.”

  “I think they have more creative punishments in mind for us.”

  The metal door creaked and swung open. Ollie hobbled into our cell. Someone obviously went at him after I got knocked out. He held something long and black in his left hand.

  I wrapped my hands around the chains tethering me to the ceiling and tugged. Nothing.

  He raised the instrument and it made a buzzing sound. “Try anything, and I’ll fry your ass,” he warned.

  I nodded once and relaxed my grip on the chain. He approached slowly. Keys jingled as he pulled them from his pocket.

  “We had a good thing going and you ruined it, Roman.”

  “Good for who?” I asked.

  A white-hot jab of stinging needles exploded against my side. My entire body twitched.

  Ollie laughed. “That was the lowest setting.”

  There was a click and the pressure on my wrists eased. I fell to the ground still twitching and drooling on my chest.

  “You got anything smart to say?” Ollie asked Eraser.

  Eraser remained silent.

  A few seconds later, he landed in a heap next to me.

  Two soft thuds hit the floor in front of us. I cracked open an eye. Two red and green apples rolled our way.

  “You two fight over the mattress. Share it. Kill each other for it. I don’t give a fuck,” Ollie said as he backed out the door and slammed it shut.

  I snatched the apples off the ground and rubbed them on the cleanest part of my sweatpants.

  “Here.” I held out one of the apples toward Eraser.

  He smirked at me. “Fucking apples again?”

  “I’ll eat yours if you don’t want it.” I crunched into the fruit and immediately winced. My jaw fucking hurt.

  “Give me that.” He snatched the other apple out of my hand.

  Our bodies were battered beyond belief.

  But they hadn’t broken our spirits—yet.

  “How long you think they’ll keep us here?” I asked.

  He tore another chunk out of his apple and chewed loudly. “I’d keep your expectations low, brother. We ain’t gettin’ out any time soon.”

  “My expectations couldn’t be lower.” Goddammit, I really didn’t want to die in this filthy imitation of a horror movie dungeon. “Life’s taught me one thing—expectations only lead to suffering.”

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Roman

  Eighteen.

  Happy birthday to me.

  Once we were mostly healed, Eraser and I returned to our room.

  The guards seemed wary of us now. Everyone seemed to avoid us.

  Eraser got his walking papers a few days later. We barely had time to hug each other goodbye and promise to catch up on the outside.