Will I fuck though.

  “Fuck off!”

  Terry snickers, brushing back his greasy hair. “Yeah, it ain’t gonna work like that. Our boss gets what he wants, and what he wants is his prime fighter to win this fight. He’s got a lot of money riding on it.”

  His boss, Rocco, goes through fighters like I go through underwear. He thinks if he picks up street kids willing to make a couple of hundred quid, he’ll get to keep the profits and have a fighter he can easily manipulate and control. None of them have the training, the cred, or even a gift for any kind of fighting. They get into scraps. The Circle is for the big boys.

  “Then tell him to get a prime fighter,” I snap.

  Rocket, who constantly looks like he’s constipated, steps forward, trying to act all big and intimidating. He’s five-four at the most. I tower over him.

  “Rocco will pay you 10K. It’s our last offer and our last warning, Carter.”

  I give him a droll look. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

  “Yeah, you are,” Flash says, and I inwardly snicker at his name. Whoever gave these dicks their nicknames were either playing a cruel joke or are truly dumb. The guy is so skinny a gust of wind could blow him over.

  “I’m shaking.”

  “What do you love the most, Landon?” Blaze drawls in a deadly voice. Blaze is the biggest out of the group. He acts like their leader, but really, he’s just another puppet on strings and couldn’t lead a band.

  I stand up, the bench protesting, and take a step forward. Flash and Rocket try to take a sly step back, but I see it and inwardly smirk.

  Fuckers should be scared.

  “I’m going to say this once, and once only. You do not want to fuck with me.”

  Blaze smirks, thinking he has something over me. I can see it in his eyes. “Ah. Fix the game and we’ll leave everyone you love alone. It’s as simple as that. You don’t… well, we plan to make it hurt.”

  He barely blinks before I have my hand around his throat, walking him backwards until his back slams against the door.

  His friends try to help, but I turn with a murderous expression. “Fucking try it and I’ll rip your fucking throats out.”

  “Let him go. You don’t want to do this,” Flash says, a hitch in his voice.

  “I warned you, dickhead,” I growl, ignoring Flash and bringing my face closer to Blaze, then wincing, leaning back. The guy needs to brush his fucking teeth. “My family can handle themselves. You don’t want to fuck with them, either. You should see what happens when people try. Now, I’m gonna ask you one more fucking time to leave. Will you do that?”

  I tighten my grip and his face begins to redden, his veins bulging.

  “Is everything okay in here?” Benny asks.

  I stare dead into Blaze’s eyes. “It is. Blaze here was just leaving, weren’t you?” I ask, digging my fingers in harder.

  He nods, and I let him go. He falls to his knees, coughing. His friends rush to help him up, but he shoves them away and pushes himself to his feet. As he reaches the door, he turns, and the anger that shines back at me has mine standing at attention.

  War.

  He wants a fight, bring it.

  “There won’t be any more chances. Don’t forget what I said,” he says.

  I go for him, ready to end him, when Benny steps in front of me, letting them walk freely out of the door.

  “You know who that is?”

  I look down at him, shrugging. “Who cares.”

  He grimaces. “Look, we might not be friends, but you’re a good kid. Rocco’s men might act like they can’t tie their shoelaces, but I’ve heard stories about what they do to people. If I were you, I’d save myself the hassle and do whatever they want me to do.”

  I raise my eyebrow. “Even fix a fight?”

  His eyes narrow dangerously. “No. I’ll fucking sort it,” he growls. “Let’s tape these fucking hands so you can go out there and beat the fuck out of him. And I’ll make it clear that if anything happens to you, there will be serious consequences. People might be scared of Rocco, but he has nothing on my boss. He’d snap him like a twig.”

  My lips twitch at that. “Come on, then. I’ve got dinner to get back to.”

  He chuckles. “All right, let’s do this.”

  *** *** ***

  The fog horn blares as I bounce on my feet, shaking out my limbs. I’m ready to annihilate him, whoever he is.

  Even freezing, I only wear my navy-blue shorts that end just above the knee. They’re less restricting and give the opponent nothing to grab onto. I learned that lesson when some fucker tried to strangle me with my own damn tee.

  Benny walks past me, grabbing a mic from the table. He thrusts his fist into the air and screams into the mic as he disappears into the crowd. I shake my head.

  “Welcome to The Circle, fuckers. As usual, stay the fuck away from the fighters, don’t get involved unless you want your face rearranged, and lastly, if I see any bets exchanged once fighters are announced, you’ll be exiled from the fights.

  “Now, are you fucking ready?”

  The crowd roars, stomping their feet on the concrete floor.

  “More blood will be spilt tonight,” he yells into the mic, making the screaming begin again.

  I stretch out my arms, waiting for the dickhead to announce me.

  “First up tonight, we have a new fighter. He’s got himself a reputation amongst the streets and is known for his famous choke hold.

  “Welcome The Destructor!”

  There’s a mix of booing and cheering as I click my neck from side to side, waiting to be called.

  “The next contender doesn’t need an introduction, but I’ll give the mean fucker one anyway. With no defeats on his belt, I give you Demolition Man!”

  I roll my eyes at the fucking nickname he gave me and step forward. The volume of the cheers explodes in my ears as I make my way into the circle, surrounded by the crowd.

  My eyes land on the guy I’m fighting, inwardly scoffing when he removes his zip-up hoodie and begins bouncing and swinging his arms back and forth.

  “All right, ladies, if you don’t know the rules, learn them quick. No fucking weapons, and if you fall out of the circle, you’re fucked and it’s an instant lose.

  “May the best fucker win!”

  With that, a girl, clad in barely there shorts and a crop top flashing the lower globes of her boobs, rings a bell.

  I stop bouncing and take a defensive stance.

  I eye my opponent, sizing him up. He’s a skinny motherfucker, covered in tattoos and piercings, but that means shit when it comes to fighting. Even skinny, he could pack a punch. But he might be one of those who thinks if he looks the part, people will back off.

  He’s got dyed blond hair, the left side shaved with patterns through it. A scar runs down his cheek and over his lip, enchasing the snarl he gives me.

  I wink, taking him aback, and begin to circle him. Blood pumps through my veins, adrenaline coursing through my body.

  I’m going to enjoy knocking this fucker out. He looks cocky, too cocky, as we stare directly at each other. Predators assessing their prey.

  I take a step back when I see his knee twitch—a tell he’s going to attack. And I’m right. He charges at me, kicking out with his left leg. Dodging him, I move to the side, grabbing his foot and throwing him off balance.

  He comes at me again, and we both move this time, not holding back or pussy-footing around each other.

  No time to dance. He wants this as much as I do.

  Fists connect with my body, but unlike most fighters, I welcome the pain. It makes me stronger, more determined to hit back twice as hard. I feed off it.

  I close my eyes as I block his attempt to grab me around the neck in one of his supposedly famous chokeholds and let the anger simmer up inside me.

  I think of Freya, of how I couldn’t save her, and like a cloud of smoke, another part of me is opened; a darker part, and I let it free.

  He rams his elbow into my back, hoping to loosen my hold around his waist. Lifting my head, I keep punching him, anywhere I can reach, and never let up. Unlike him, who’s tiring easily, I won’t.

  The crowd disappears, so do their chants. All I see is him. I can feel blood trickling down my face from the last blow and growl.

  Enough is enough.

  I wasn’t lying when I told Benny I had dinner to get to. Charlotte is waiting for me with a meal and a movie.

  I need to end this. No more playing.

  Ramming my knee into his stomach a little harder than I intended to, I hear the air get sucked out of his lungs. He staggers backwards and I pounce, hitting his bloodied face over and over until he falls to his knees. At first, he tries to evade my fists, to dance out of the way, but he isn’t a match for me.

  I step forward, landing one more punch to his face. Blood sprays all over my chest, and I grimace. This is the only part I hate; being covered in someone else’s blood.

  His eyes roll to the back of his head as he sways on his knees.

  “He’s going to go,” Benny booms over the speaker.

  The crowd begin to scream my victory as he falls face first onto the concrete. I wince, knowing that had to have hurt.

  The fight had to have lasted fifteen minutes at the most; longer than most of mine have ever lasted. He’d definitely be worth fighting again.

  I step back, ignoring everyone trying to congratulate me, and push my way through the sea of people.

  Benny, knowing my routine, meets me outside the locker room like clockwork. “Bro, that was fucking awesome. I’ll be in touch with your payment,” he tells me.

  I hate being paid on the night because most of the time I head back to Charlotte’s. I don’t want her finding it when she hangs my jacket. So Benny will seek me out in the week to give me the cash.

  Giving him a chin lift, I make my way into the locker room, where I grab my hoodie off the bench and pull it over my head. I grimace, a little sore and bruised in places.

  The crowd seems louder tonight, thicker, so I move to the back of the changing room where there’s a broken window and slip through it.

  Out in the alley, I breathe in the fresh air, no longer smelling the coppery scent of blood—well, not as strongly as I did inside.

  The rain splatters on my face and I welcome it, moving around the corner and into another alley, the one that leads out onto the street. The streetlight ahead flickers on and off, giving the night an eerie feeling.

  I come to a stop, drop my bag, and move into a defensive stance when a figure steps out from behind a bin. People have tried to corner me after a fight before, pissed off they’ve lost, so this isn’t the first time I’ve had to be quick to act.

  “Landon?”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl, looking around for danger. She doesn’t belong in a place like this. Nowhere fucking near it.

  I regret snapping at her as I watch her flinch and see pain flash across her face.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here,” she whispers, her voice filled with anguish.

  Fuck!

  She turns to leave, and I pick my bag up from the ground and take a step forward. Once I reach her, I grab her arm, stopping her. “Wait.”

  Goose-bumps rise on my arm at skin touching skin. She isn’t even wearing a jacket; just her usual summer dress. Raking my gaze down her body, I inwardly groan at the sight of her tits bulging out of the top, wanting to feel them in the palms of my hands. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. You shouldn’t be anywhere near a place like this, Paisley.”

  There are men in there who wouldn’t think twice about taking her against her will. Some of the men in there might be rich, but they’re scum and make their money selling drugs to kids and whatever else they are into.

  “I didn’t know how else to talk to you. I didn’t want to turn up at your work.”

  I rub the back of my neck, looking around the alley once again. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened,” I start, shifting. Talking isn’t something I’m good at. I never know the right thing to say in situations like this.

  She holds her hand up, stopping me. “This is kind of about that night, but I’m not here to beg you to change your mind about relationships. I knew your stance before we… you know,” she says, her eyes bulging. She shivers, running her hands up and down her arms. She’s completely soaked.

  “How long have you been out in the rain?” I ask, reaching for the edge of my hoodie, intending to give it to her.

  “No, don’t. I’m fine. I haven’t been out here long.”

  “How did you know I was here?” I ask accusingly. I didn’t peg her for a stalker.

  She looks uncomfortable, looking nervously behind her. “My best friend’s brother is always talking about these fights. It’s how I knew you’d be here tonight. Look, I just need to say what I have to say, then I’ll go and leave you alone. Okay?”

  Not understanding where this is going, I nod. “Um, yeah, okay.”

  A noise behind us, coming from around the corner, distracts me, and I still, listening.

  “He was meant to come out that window,” Blaze snaps, and I freeze.

  “Maybe we got the wrong window,” Flash yells to be heard over the rain.

  My eyes widen in horror when I turn back to Paisley, who looks up at me with doe eyes. “Yeah, so I’m—”

  “Paisley, you need to hide,” I hiss, pushing her back towards the bins.

  “W-what?”

  CHAPTER THREE

  PAISLEY

  Have you ever watched one of those adverts where the bloke tips water over his head and chest? It’s made to look sexy, when in reality, they just look like an idiot for tipping water over themselves while trying to pull off a sensual expression. Landon, however, rocks the wet look. Like seriously fucking rocks it.

  His dark hair sticks to his face and eyelids. Droplets of rain drip from his bottom lip, and my eyes are drawn to them as I envision licking them off.

  I clench my thighs together and take a deep breath, trying to concentrate on what I came here to say. I didn’t stand out in the rain, waiting for him for the past twenty minutes, to say nothing.

  When his attention turns back to me, a mixture of emotions pass over his face, making me tense. He looks scared, worried and angry.

  Maybe he’s getting impatient with me just standing here, not speaking.

  Just blurt it out. Tell him, Paisley.

  “Yeah, so I’m—” I start, but then he moves towards me quickly, grabbing my biceps in a tight grip. I wince at the pain, knowing it will bruise.

  “Paisley, you need to hide,” he hisses sharply, pushing me to the floor.

  “W-what?”

  My bag drops beside me as he kneels down in front of me, grabbing my face. I shiver, scared and confused. I don’t understand what the hell is going on or why he’s acting this way.

  “Let’s look around. He can’t have gone far,” I hear a deep voice yell from somewhere close.

  I look up, fearful of what is happening. He’s hiding me from whoever that man is.

  “W-what is going on?” I ask, my voice shaking.

  His grip on my face softens a touch, but the determination in his expression doesn’t waver. “Listen to me. I don’t have time to explain, but whatever happens, whatever they do, do not come out from this spot. They will know I’m hiding you and will do a lot worse to you than they’ll ever do to me. Do you understand?”

  My entire body quivers, my bottom lip beginning to tremble. “No! What’s going on? I’m scared, Landon.”

  He inhales, dropping his forehead to mine briefly. “Promise me, Paisley. Promise me you won’t move from here, no matter what.”

  I grip his biceps, not wanting him to go. A sinking feeling in my gut has me clutching my stomach. “Stay here with me.”

  “I can’t risk them finding you. Now promise. Quick!”

  I nod at the urgency in his voice. “I will. I promise.”

  Satisfied, he kisses my head, drops his bag in front of me, and moves out into the alley.

  I shuffle forward, peeking out from behind the bin, and my chest tightens when I see four men carrying weapons. They notice Landon, and the biggest one grins.

  “Well, look who it fucking is.”

  Landon scoffs, his stance portraying him as unaffected. “You were looking for me, so let’s not play games,” he snaps, then I watch as he scans them, a snarl lifting his lips. “Ah, weapons. Should have known you pussies would need them. Couldn’t take me on by yourselves?”

  “We’ve seen you fight. Do we look stupid?” another voice in the group asks.

  Landon crosses his arms over his chest, giving them a dry look. “Do you really need me to answer that, because yes, yes you do look fucking stupid.”

  “There’s four of us,” the first voice states.

  Blinking rain out of my face, I reach behind me for my bag and grab my phone.

  “And you think that makes you hard? Well, it doesn’t. It makes you look fucking weak. Come on, Blaze, fight me one on one.”

  Someone scoffs, but I don’t look up. Instead, I try to unlock my phone, my hands shaking, making it hard. This is going to go bad. I can sense it. My stomach cramps painfully.

  A cry nearly has me dropping my phone. When I look back up and out into the alley, the smallest man of the group charges at Landon with a bat.

  A small squeal escapes my lips, and I watch as Landon’s body visibly tenses. He must have heard me. I place my free hand over my mouth to stop any sound coming out. It’s hard, because all I want to do is cry out for them to stop.

  Landon keeps his focus solely on the guys.

  This is happening. It’s really happening. And it won’t end well. I quickly shove myself back against the wall and dial nine-nine-nine, having finally steadied my nerves long enough to unlock my phone.

  Oh my God, I won’t be able to speak; the men will hear me.

  Tears fall down my cheeks as I leave the call connected, hoping they’ll hear what is happening.

  I sneak back out a little in time to see Landon dodge the bat. Landon swings out with his fist, punching the next guy in the jaw. The guy staggers back, and before Landon can recover from the attack, the men begin to descend, each looking deadly in a different way.