The heat was almost suffocating when we got inside, and Heather waved us over to their corner. They’d taken up position near an opening in the tent, so a small breeze wafted in, giving us some respite. Channing wasn’t there anymore, but his friends moved in around us. Or mostly they moved in around Mason and me. All of them, Mason included, glanced around, and I had to kick myself again.
I’d forgotten how much he was hated.
As if reading my mind, Mason gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. I slipped my fingers between his, and despite the heat, he pulled me in front of him. We stood like that, holding hands, my back resting against his chest. I caught Heather giving us a grin as a loud cheer rose up.
A guy wearing a white robe hopped into the makeshift boxing ring. As the crowd continued to cheer, he thrust two fists in the air, and they really let loose. He began bouncing around, doing a little jig with his feet until a guy yelled from the sidelines and tossed him a microphone. The robe guy stopped and caught it, and then suddenly the tent grew quiet. He pulled his hood up, standing smack in the middle of the ring, and gripped the mic. We could hear him breathing.
“Are you guys ready?” he whispered first.
There was silence. A guy yelled out, a beat later, “Yeah!”
“Are you guys ready?” he asked, a fraction louder, not quite a whisper.
“Yes!” The same guy yelled back, joined by others.
Fists started shaking in the air and more called out, “Let’s go! Let’s start.”
“I said—” He shoved his hood back and raised his face. “Are you READY?!”
“Fuck yes, motherfucker!”
I jolted, bumping into Matteo, who stood next to us.
The guy behind us had roared that, and when he noticed my reaction, he flashed me a grin. “Sorry. I get heated.”
I nodded. “Noted.”
The announcer yelled something into the microphone, but I couldn’t hear him. The crowd drowned him out, but I gathered he’d announced the first fight.
After a fast knockout, he introduced the second and third fights the same way. I had to step outside to see if the ringing in my ears would go away when the volume decreased, or if it was permanent.
I still wasn’t sure ten minutes later when Heather motioned me back in. The last fight was starting, Channing’s fight.
The crowd was insane. The bloodier the matches, the better. The announcer stepped back into the ring. He held his hands up, and the crowd quieted. Mason gripped my thigh, and I stepped back into him. Just feeling him steadied me.
Heather looked over her shoulder. I followed her gaze, and there was Channing. He wore no shirt, and his black sweats hung low from his hips. Channing was a good-looking guy, and I could see what the others were seeing. He was ripped. But as he stood there, swinging his arms back and forth and jumping lightly up and down, it wasn’t him that I was seeing.
I saw Mason.
He was the one getting ready to fight.
He was the one everyone was watching.
He was the one everyone wanted to fight.
I could feel an underlying pressure from those around us. People kept glancing at Mason, and I knew Caldron was glaring from across the ring. People really did want to see Mason fight. Yet another wave of self-loathing came over me. I shouldn’t have come here. What was wrong with me?
A new roar rose from the crowd, and I turned to see Channing heading for the ring. His opponent climbed in from the other side. After another round of announcements, the fight began. I still couldn’t shake the sensation of Mason being involved.
As Channing ducked, I saw Mason ducking. He hit the other guy with an undercut, and I could almost feel Mason’s hand tensing. Channing danced back, evading punches and returning with his own. This went on until eventually, the other guy wore out. Then Channing went in for his win. He ended the fight in one round, delivering a knockout punch right before the bell rang.
The guy fell, and he didn’t move.
Channing was the winner.
The crowd went nuts, and I saw lust in Heather’s eyes. Her lips parted, and she gave her man a slow and seductive grin. He was watching her as well, his own eyes already darkened. If I hadn’t been sure before, I was now. Heather was in love, and she was never going to leave his side.
I leaned back against Mason. His hand held my waist, anchoring me to him. All my friends were settling in, finding the ones they loved. Logan had Taylor. Heather was finally done with the back and forth with Channing, and I’d found my soulmate long ago. We’d all dealt with hurdles and obstacles, and now it was time to get ready for the future.
We left the tent and waited as Heather congratulated Channing on his win. I slipped my hand inside Mason’s front pocket. He looked down at me, a soft smile on his face. He knew what I was feeling.
I was ready to go home. I was ready to feel him inside of me.
We waited, though. Channing’s friends wanted to celebrate some more, and Channing greeted others who were still coming up to offer their own congratulations. Matteo had a girl in his arms. I had no clue where she’d come from, but her hands were wrapped around his waist, and he’d thrown his arm around her shoulders, holding her tight to his side. Heather was next to Channing. She wasn’t sticking to him like glue, but after seeing a few wolfish looks shared between the two, I knew we could go. Heather wasn’t going to be ready to leave any time soon.
I squeezed Mason’s hand.
He glanced down. “You ready?”
I nodded and jerked my head toward Matteo. “What about him?”
“Uh...” Mason shrugged. “I’ll have a word, but I’m pretty sure he wants to stay.”
That was fine with me. I went over to Heather and let her know we were going.
“You guys okay to walk back alone?” Channing asked. “We can walk with you.”
Mason came up behind me. I could feel his heat, and one of his hands found my hip again, burrowing in under my shirt. “We can call if we run into trouble.”
“Just watch out for Caldron. Now that you’re here, he can taste the blood in the water.”
“I’ve been watching. He and his buddies took off for one of the band stages a few minutes ago.”
Channing nodded, resting against Heather with his arms crossed over his chest. “They’ve been drinking all night. I had some of the guys keep an eye on them, too, but they’re only starting. Just keep an eye out. If one of them notices you leaving, they’re going to take a shot. You’re here without Logan and Nate. It’s the best chance they’ll get, and they know it.”
“We’ll be watching.” Mason nodded at him again, starting to pull me away. “Thanks for watching Sam before, and congrats on the win.”
Channing grinned. “I’d like to see you in the ring. Something tells me you’d hold your own.”
Mason mirrored his smile, but didn’t say anything.
I waved at Heather, and she waved back, but she was already melting into Channing’s side. He lifted his arm to encircle her shoulders as we stepped away from the group.
The area outside the tent was still filled with people walking around, but since the last fight was done, the main crowd had migrated toward the other tents that had bands playing in them.
We could hear the music while we’d stood with the group, but as we walked down the line of cars, it began to fade. It was quiet compared to the crowd we’d just left, and an almost eerie feeling came over me.
“You okay?”
I sighed, holding tight to Mason’s hand. “Why aren’t you madder at me?”
He stopped, turning around to look at me. “What do you mean?”
“This.” I indicated where we’d just been. “This place is dangerous for you.”
He lifted a shoulder. “It is what it is. We could’ve left before. I wanted to stay, too, and you wanted to spend time with your friend. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, the enemies I have here are partly my fault,” he added. “We didn’t have to fight back so much with Broudou back then. We did some stupid stuff. Lighting cars on fire? Shit. Logan wanted to torch their barn even.” He paused, frowning. “I think he did light it on fire.”
I didn’t say anything. A barn was nothing compared to the fraternity house.
“Don’t beat yourself up. It’s a pile of shit, and you might’ve helped bring that pile of shit to my doorstep, but it’s not your pile of shit. It’s mine. You can’t look at it any other way.”
“A pile of shit?” I teased, bumping my hip into his. “You’re sounding like Logan.”
A faint grin lifted his top lip. “Don’t tell him that. I’ll never hear the end of it. He’ll start proclaiming that I secretly want to be him.” He grimaced, but I caught the look that passed in his eyes.
He missed his brother.
I murmured, “I miss him, too.”
He looked down, and we shared a look with music and moonlight as our background.
Then I heard, “You left without saying goodbye? Tsk, tsk, Kade.”
Jared Caldron stood behind us, a bat in his hand.