SAMANTHA
The crowd doubled since my call with Mason. I assumed something came up at his internship because it’d been a while since we talked. I texted him once asking if he was still coming, and he replied that he had to make a small detour. That was two hours ago, and since then the sun was beginning to set, so a dusky feeling came over the air, mingling with the smells of beer, sweat, and greasy food. The music from a nearby stage pounded my ears, but I enjoyed it, leaning back on the bed of the truck where Heather and I sat.
Channing and his friends were talking and laughing. A couple sat in lawn chairs, holding drinks and watching the girls walk past. A few of those girls stopped to talk, then skimmed their eyes over to Heather and me. It was amusing to watch, because I could tell which girls were interested in Channing. When they saw Heather, they kept right on going.
We were set up at the corner of the parking lot with the fight tent a few yards away and a stage on the other side of that, so people were coming and going from the parking lot and checking out whoever was fighting inside the tent. As groups of guys passed, some stopped and greeted the guys with Channing. Most either nodded, pounded each other on the shoulder, or fist bumped. Some others stopped and raked Channing up and down, sneered, and kept walking.
A guy was doing that exact thing now. He had a group of seven or eight around him, but unlike the others who’d looked at Channing’s friends—and had been ignored or joked about—this guy got a different reception. Everyone lowered their drinks, and Channing stepped out in front of his friends. They came to attention behind him, ready and waiting to see what would happen. A couple had girls trying to talk to them, but when they saw the guy, the women immediately quieted, stepping away.
Heather nudged my arm, leaning close. “That’s Jared Caldron. You need to watch out for him.”
I assessed. His hair was in a blond Mohawk, and he was a little shorter than Channing, so he’d be an inch or two below Mason’s height, too. His face was round, but weathered with a deep tan. He had some scars around his mouth and at the corners of his eyes. I didn’t want to think about where those had come from. He reminded me a bit of a troll I’d read about, but with a badass attitude. Sharp grey eyes smirked back at Channing. He held a 32-ouncer in his hand and wore a sleeveless and already dirtied T-shirt. It was baggy enough that as the wind moved past, it lifted the fabric and two pierced nipples peeked out. Ripped jeans completed the ensemble. Most of his friends wore something similar, and most of them were taller than this guy. A few were more muscled, but a couple were just heftier—with beer bellies. They had some girls with them, but I wasn’t paying attention to them.
“Why do I need to watch out?” I asked Heather. “Who is he?”
She was already close, but as the guy’s eyes moved to us, she leaned even closer. She lowered her voice as he watched us. “He was Budd’s best friend in high school.”
Channing spoke up, distracting Heather from whatever else she’d been about to add. “Move along, Caldron.” Channing shifted so he blocked the guy’s view of Heather and me. “Unless you want to start the fight early.”
“Get off it, Monroe.” The guy had a light voice, which surprised me, but he was definitely cocky and the leader of his group. “That’s Kade’s woman, isn’t it?”
I gulped. This is what Mason had warned me about.
“She’s with us, and it’s none of your business.”
Caldron snorted. “Yeah. Right. But good to know.”
“Move along. Now.”
The command came out softly. I shouldn’t have been able to hear it since Channing was a few feet in front of us with his back turned, but somehow the entire group heard. Channing’s friends seemed to become even more alert, as if it were a warning signal and the next word spoken might be their command to attack.
I found myself holding my breath. Maybe I should’ve left instead of waiting for Mason to come here.
“Yeah, yeah.” He moved forward a couple of steps, and his eyes found us again. He spoke to Channing. “But this ain’t high school any more. There’s no Brett to keep us in line, remember? You remember that, too.”
For a second time, Channing shielded us from the guy’s view. His arms hung loose by his sides, but he gripped the beer in his hand harder, starting to crumple the can into a ball. Then he stopped, like he was waiting for something else to happen.
Time seemed to stand still, though it was only a few seconds until Caldron grunted once and then moved away, still glancing over his shoulder at us. His friends followed, as well as the girls who were with them, laughing and almost tripping on their heels.
Heather shook her head. “Beth Clovers. She’s an idiot. Who wears hooker heels to walk around on grass, dirt, and mud?”
I didn’t answer. I was still watching Caldron and his friends. I followed until they were swallowed up by another group. I glanced to Channing. He had looked back at me, and I half expected some comment about how I shouldn’t have been there. Nothing came. His eyes flicked to Heather’s before one of his buddies said something. An easy smile came to his face, and he turned, punching his friend on the arm. Then all was forgotten.
The tense moment was gone.
“You need to stick like glue to me tonight,” Heather instructed.
I nodded. After seeing that, there was no way I’d risk even a trip to the bathroom alone. “Got it.”
“When’s your boy coming?”
That question came from one of Channing’s friends. I didn’t remember his name, but he was bald with two large flame tattoos that circled his head. I’d stared at the back of him before when we were moving through the crowd. The entire group seemed to be waiting for my response.
“I’m not sure, actually. He mentioned a meeting after work, but he was going to ditch out of it.”
“Well, give us a head’s-up, yeah? We’ll go meet him.”
“Word’s out now,” Channing added. “People know you’re here, so they’re going to be expecting him, too. Logan and Nate are both gone, right?”
I nodded. The phrase bad timing didn’t cover this. Fucked-up timing was more accurate. “He said he would try to find some others to come with him, but…” This was Mason. More than likely, he’d come alone because he wanted to be at my side.
Channing seemed to be on the same wavelength. “Text him. Tell him you want to know when he’s arriving.”
I nodded and took out my phone, but then I heard Mason’s voice next to me, coming up the side of the truck. “I’m here.”
And he wasn’t alone.
My mouth dropped. “Matteo?!”
Mason’s football teammate grinned back, running a hand over his shaved head. He was dressed almost the same as Caldron, with a white, sleeveless shirt over jeans, but that was where the similarities ended—no nipple rings and instead of looking like he’d been mudding all day, Matteo was clean and trimmer than the last time I saw him.
He grunted, slapping a hand on Mason’s back. “This one called me with perfect timing. I was about to board the plane for home, but he talked me into hanging out in the infamous Fallen Crest for a few weeks.” His dark eyes lingered on Heather, and he held his hand out. “Don’t know if we’ve met yet. I save this one’s life on the field.”
Mason laughed. “You would, if you weren’t too slow. You’re on the front line.”
“Whatever.” Matteo rolled his shoulders, seeming nonplussed. Two dimples winked back at Heather. “For real, my soul brotha connection must’ve been working both ways. Hello, friend of Sam’s that must be a friend of mine, too.” He stepped forward, his hand still extended.
I glanced at Channing, but he didn’t look like he cared. He was laughing with the rest of his friends. The reception was a lot less tense than it had been with Caldron. They knew Matteo wasn’t a threat, in any way, and a beat later, Heather confirmed it.
She looked at the hand, then turned to gaze at the crowd. “I think you might want to point that hand toward my boyfriend; his fighting is the main attraction tonight.”
“Oh.” Matteo withdrew his hand, looked around, and waved at Channing. “Hello, friend of Mason’s who I hope will be a friend of mine, too.” He jerked a thumb in Heather’s direction. “No disrespect. I’m a soul brotha here to help cover my man’s back, just off the field this time.”
Channing grinned, moving around a lawn chair. “No problem.” He nodded to Mason. “Just one?”
Mason lifted a shoulder, his eyes lingering on me. “It was last minute.”
“And who’s better than me? Huh?” Matteo added.
The others went back to what they’d been doing before: flirting, watching girls, or talking. Channing lowered his voice. I couldn’t make out what he said to Mason and Matteo, but both looked at me with serious expressions. I felt a nervous fluttering in my stomach.
“He’s telling them about Jared,” Heather said.
Jared? Oh yes. Jared Caldron.
“He’s bad news?” I didn’t need to ask. I already knew. I felt it in my gut.
“Oh yeah. Budd tried to rape Kate, remember? Who do you think gave him the idea?”
The fluttering feeling grew, and ice flowed through my veins. “Nice to know.”
“Don’t worry, though.” Heather lightened her tone. “You’re safe. The guys are just being cautious. Caldron’s had it out for Channing since back in school. Channing started the crew system to help push Budd and Brett out of the power they thought they had.”
“Crew system?”
“Yeah, it’s like a soft version of gangs. He had to. Once he formed his crew, others joined up and allied together. Budd lost a lot of power the end of his senior year. It wasn’t all about protecting Mason and you, but some of it was. Budd couldn’t take it out on Channing. If he did, he’d risk the wrath of all those crews. I think it was another reason he focused on hurting whoever Mason’s girlfriend was.”
The fluttering now grew into a full-sized rock, sitting right there at the bottom of my gut.
I let out a shaky laugh. “I’d forgotten what it was like that year in school.”
It’d been scary at Fallen Crest Public, but I knew it was way worse at Roussou. Their town didn’t have the factories and companies Fallen Crest did, which provided more money.
“Kate and those bitches.” Heather had been right there with me. “She’s still around, you know?”
“What?”
“Kate. She’s working at the salon in Roussou. She got alienated from her friends after that year, so she officially moved to Roussou. Transferred to Roussou from Fallen Crest for school and everything. I think she’s in the trailer court with her boyfriend now.”
I rolled my eyes. “Lovely.”
“I hate to say white trash because some might consider me white trash, but that girl really is. If she’s not doing hair, she’s at Channing’s bar or drinking in her trailer.” Heather thought for a second. “Or in front of the trailer. That court’s not bad either. I’ve got a friend who lives there, and she hates when Kate does that. Makes the whole place look bad, you know?”
“Channing has a bar?”
“It’s his dad’s, but he took it over this year.”
“Because it was time?” I wasn’t really thinking about the conversation, just going along until I heard her answer.
“No, because his dad’s in prison.”
That got my attention. “What?”
“You didn’t know?”
I shook my head. “You’ve never said.”
“Oh.” Her head lowered a bit. “Sometimes I don’t say things because I don’t want you to look down on me.”
“What?” That came from left field. “Why would I do that?”
She looked at Mason and then to Matteo, and I saw what she meant. Channing and his friends were fine, dressed in jeans and T-shirts, and Mason and Matteo weren’t dressed differently. They both wore Cain University shirts, Matteo’s without sleeves, and both had on jeans. But it was the look of them. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it was obvious Mason had money. And Matteo stood out, as if he was a league above them or something.
I hated thinking like that, but this was how Heather saw them.
This was how Heather saw me.
“I’m not rich.”
She half-snorted, half-barked out a laugh. “You literally have a choice between which mansion to live in for the summer: your dad’s, his dad’s, or even your biological dad’s.” She held her hands up. “Nothing against money. I don’t look it, but we’re doing well with Manny’s.” She shifted, her hands curving around the truck’s edge as she leaned forward. “But we’re not in range with you guys. So yeah, I think sometimes I don’t say things because of that.”
My tongue had never felt heavier than it did at that moment. “My mom used a wire to perform her own abortion. She threatened to turn Mason in for having sex with me so he’d be classified as a sex offender when we were in high school. There’s nothing that makes me better than you. Trust me.”
“I know. I do. And I know you don’t think that at all, but…” She paused, sighing heavily. “Sometimes it’s intimidating.”
“What is?”
I was getting whiplash. I’d never expected any of this from her.
“Watching how far you’re going to go with Mason and Logan, and knowing I’m going to be in the same place can be…humbling sometimes.”
Humbling? I was honestly floored. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing.” She gestured to the guys beginning to gather together. Channing broke off to join them as Mason headed our way. “The first fight must be starting.”
“Heather.” I touched her arm.
She hopped off the truck’s bed as Mason arrived. “Nothing. Forget what I said.” She gave Mason a smile. “I’ll give you two some space.”
Matteo stood behind Mason, and she clasped him on the shoulder. “Come on, lover boy. I’ll introduce you to some friendly girls you can get to know.”
“I knew there was a reason I was attracted to you.” He looked her up and down again, but the lecherous gleam was gone. “You’re a home girl, aren’t you? You get guys, in here.” He gestured to his chest.
Heather tipped her head back, her dirty blond hair rippling, and she winked at him. “More like down there.” Her eyes dropped to his groin. “I grew up with my dad and two brothers. I understand guys.”
Matteo groaned, his hands coming to his chest. “I’m feeling the ache right here. Why do you have to be taken, and by someone who seems cool as shit?”
She laughed. “Come on. You like the name Tiffany?” Her voice faded as she pulled him around to the front of the group.
I knew she did that to give Mason and me more privacy, and the humbling feeling she’d mentioned now landed smack on my chest. I felt grounded to the steel of the truck beneath me. I reiterated some of what she’d said to Mason.
“She’s a good friend to you. Loyal.”
“I don’t feel good enough for her. Not anymore.”
“And that’s why you’re a good friend to her.” He dropped a kiss to my forehead, his hand curving around and resting on the small of my back. “Come on. We can talk later. Just stick close to me.”
I angled my head back to stare up at him. “We’re staying? I thought you wanted to go right away.”
He shrugged, glancing to where Channing was standing. “I kind of want to see him fight.”
There was no ‘kind of.’ He wanted to. I could hear it in his voice, and I knew a part of Mason missed those days. It felt simpler back then. They could fight and not care about the consequences. Things were different now. Futures had to be considered. Decisions made now could harm someone’s career.
I slipped my hand into his and squeezed. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For coming here and not thinking about what I was going to be walking into.”
He shrugged again. “It’s okay. I got Matteo here and we’ll deal with whatever happens.”
I saw how he was watching Channing. He wanted to support his friend and I glanced to my friend from the reminder. I didn’t feel like the good friend to her.
“Come on.” He pulled me off the truck and his hand rested snug on my back.
He started for the fighting tent, but I stopped him. “Heather doesn’t talk a lot about Channing or even about Roussou with me. If there’s any part of you blaming her for bringing me here, don’t. It’s my fault. I should’ve known, and a part of me didn’t because I don’t talk to her about this part of her life. I haven’t been a good friend to her.”
Mason’s eyes held mine, sparking a different feeling inside. The nerves were still there, but they mixed with another kind of tension. We’d returned home, and now that we were here, we needed to face the music. It didn’t make sense to me, but what I’d said was true. I couldn’t be friends with Heather if I only got half of her. That wasn’t being the true friend I thought I was.
My mouth felt dry, and I didn’t say any of those words to Mason, but he’d been watching me. And as if he’d read my mind, as I was sure he could, his eyes softened.
He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “I know, but I can’t lie. I don’t like owing someone else for covering my back. It’s nothing against Channing. I like him. I respect him, but he’s not family. Logan and Nate are, and neither one is here.” His fingers laced with mine. He started forward, leading me. “And I have to be very careful what I do. Any leaked video could be the end of my career.”
That was the feeling I had—the other kind of nervousness. My stomach dropped to my feet, with the rock and everything.
Looking around, I noticed again how many people were paying attention to us. I’d felt like this when Mason was in high school, and it had only gotten worse in college, but standing here now, among this rougher crowd, it was different. People wanted to know Mason so they could use him at Cain. It wasn’t like that here. These people wanted to hurt him.
And I was one way for that to happen.
I’d been so stupid.