WHEN THE DOORBELL rang an hour later, my heart sank. I’d been secretly hoping that Miles would cancel, but wishful thinking never really got you anywhere. My dad, who had arrived home only ten minutes before, was still changing his clothes in the bedroom, so my mother looked at me expectantly.

“I’ll get it then, shall I?” I asked, rolling my eyes and heading for the door without waiting for her to answer.

I opened it to see the Barringtons standing there, smiling politely, holding an expensive-looking bottle of wine and a basket of fruit. Miles’s parents were extremely wealthy, so it probably pained them to think that their son was dating a girl like me. Not that we were poor or anything; actually, my dad did really well for himself. He was a financial adviser, and we certainly weren’t short on money, but compared to the Barringtons I would imagine that we looked like vagrants.

“Good evening, Ellie. How are you tonight?” Susan asked politely.

How am I? Uncomfortable, embarrassed, harassed, and annoyed.

“I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. Barrington. How are you?” I replied, smiling and ignoring the way she was looking me over in my casual clothes.

“We’re very well,” she replied, smiling awkwardly.

“That’s great. Come on in, dinner’s almost ready,” I offered, opening the door wider, trying not to make eye contact with Miles. As the three of them stepped into the hallway, I regretted my choice of attire for tonight. They were dressed formally. Susan, Miles’s mother, was in an immaculate red cocktail dress that probably cost thousands, and both Miles and his father were wearing tailored gray suits—though Miles had elected for no tie. They definitely made me feel underdressed. Thankfully, my mom appeared almost immediately and took them off my hands, showing them into the living room for drinks. I took their coats and headed to the closet to hang them up.

Miles followed me, as I knew he would, and wrapped his arms around me from behind as I hung the coats on the rack. “Hey, forgiven me yet?” he breathed down my neck.

I elbowed him in the stomach and pulled out of his arms. “Miles, seriously, stop it! I told you I don’t want—” I started, but he caught my hips and turned me to face him. I didn’t have time to think about what was about to happen before his head dipped and he forcefully pressed his lips against mine. I gasped, shocked that he would have the nerve to kiss me after I’d insisted we were over. Whipping my head back, I shoved my arms between us and pushed him away with as much force as I could muster.

“You are really starting to piss me off! Don’t keep thinking that I’m going to change my mind; I won’t!” I hissed quietly, not wanting our parents to hear.

Miles’s face immediately turned pleading as he stepped closer to me again. “Ellie, please, I said I’m sorry, what more do you want? What can I do? I’ll do anything. You want me to beg? I’ll beg,” he said, dropping down to his knees and taking my hands in his. “Please, Ellie?” he whispered, kissing the back of my hand.

My insides clenched and I squirmed on my feet with embarrassment and unease. If he were like this all the time, then things would certainly be different, but he wasn’t.

“You like my shirt, Miles?” I asked, raising my eyebrows. He would hate it if I went out in this; it was just an ordinary black fitted top, but it had quite a low V-neck that exposed more cleavage than he usually tolerated.

His eyes dropped to my chest and a frown lined his forehead. “Yeah, it’s nice,” he answered immediately. The tiny twitch to his eye showed me he was lying, though.

“Yeah, I have it in white, too. I’m going to wear it to school tomorrow, with that denim skirt, you know, the short one that you don’t like …” I trailed off, smiling sweetly.

That did it; he jumped to his feet, glaring at me. “Fuck that! You can’t wear that to school, you’ll look like a slut and all the guys will think you’re easy. Don’t you fucking dare!” he growled angrily.

Now there’s the guy I broke up with! “Thanks, you just made this night a lot easier for me.” I yanked my hands from his and walked off quickly before he could stop me.

All through dinner I ignored Miles playing with my hair and drawing a pattern on the back of my neck with his finger. I smiled when I was supposed to, and added my piece to the conversation when I was expected to. When the talk turned to Miles and me going to college, I gritted my teeth. Clearly he had neglected to mention to his parents that we’d broken up.

“So, obviously, what with you two applying to the same schools, you’ll be spending quite a bit of time together. Do you think maybe you’ll be considering living together?” Miles’s dad asked, making me almost choke on my drink. He turned to my dad and smiled wickedly. “What do you think, Michael, are the kids going to live in sin for a while or will you be insisting on a proposal?” he joked, winking at him.

Miles laughed and answered before I could even open my mouth. “Maybe we could share a place; it would be easier if we rented together. And I’m not opposed to a proposal,” he replied, smiling over at me, ignoring my attempts to kill him with my icy glare.

This had gone far enough now. As much as he was annoying me, though, I still couldn’t bring myself to embarrass him in front of his parents.

Picking up my plate and my dad’s, I stood. “Miles, how about you help me with the dessert?” I asked through my teeth, trying to keep my face neutral.

He stood and took the plates from my hand, smiling sweetly. “Sure thing, baby.”

I stomped off to the kitchen, taking deep breaths, trying to calm my frayed nerves. As soon as he stepped through the kitchen door, I rounded on him. “What the hell was that? Are you not listening to me? It’s over! This needs to stop; I want you to leave, right now. Tell your parents you’re not feeling well or something and leave!” I hissed angrily.

He closed the door to the kitchen and shook his head. “You don’t mean that, baby. I love you, and you love me.” He wrapped his arms around me again, trapping me against his hard chest.

“If you don’t get off me right now, I’m going to scream,” I warned him.

He grinned, looking at me knowingly. “No you won’t, you don’t like to make a scene, you hate being the center of attention,” he whispered, leaning in and kissing my neck. Suddenly he pulled back, his mouth popping open in shock. “What the fuck is that?” he spat through his teeth. He sounded so angry that I actually flinched.

“What?”

“That!” He pointed an accusing finger at the back of my neck. “You have a fucking hickey! I didn’t do that! Where the hell did you get that from?” he growled. I had a hickey on my neck? I winced. Jamie must have done it and I hadn’t even realized. “Well?” he demanded.

“We’re broken up,” I rebutted, as if that answered his question.

He slammed his hand down on the counter next to me. “No. We. Are. Not!” he spat, saying each word slowly. “I’m not letting you see someone else, Ellie; you’re mine!”

“Screw you! I’ve had enough of your bullshit. What are you gonna do, Miles, huh? Nothing, that’s what you’re gonna do. Let’s just go finish dinner, then you can leave. You’re seriously pissing me off right now,” I retorted, pulling my shoulders back, trying to appear more confident than I felt.

I turned to walk away, but he caught my wrist, forcibly yanking me to a stop. “Who was it? Who are you letting put their fucking hands on you?” His grip on my wrist tightened to the point of pain.

“You’re hurting me!” I yelped, twisting my arm to get free. “It’s none of your business who did it; we’re over. Let me go.”

He stepped closer, his nostrils flaring. His hard eyes latched onto mine as he leaned in so that our noses almost touched. “When I find out who it was, he’s dead. You’re mine; sooner or later you’ll remember that.” Without another word or an apology for hurting me, he marched out of the room. I blinked, shocked at his outburst. The skin on my wrist burned, but he hadn’t squeezed enough to leave a mark. He’d never physically manhandled me before, or frightened me. I didn’t quite know how to deal with what had just happened.

Thankfully, before I got too wrapped up in trying to process what had transpired, the kitchen door opened and my flustered-looking mother walked in.

“Are you getting the dessert or not? People are waiting!” she snapped, already headed to the refrigerator. I nodded, forcing a tight smile as I went to help her, praying for this night to just end already.

JAMIE

“Kid, seriously, you still have time to back out,” Ray said, looking at me worriedly.

“Honestly, I’ll be fine. I need to do this.” I pulled out my last twenty-five bucks and handed the money to Jensen. “So, what are my odds?” I asked him.

He smiled and withdrew a little notebook from his pocket, scribbling my bet inside. “Kurt’s pretty badass, so I’ll give you four-to-one odds. People won’t bet on you; he’s won the last three competitions he’s entered, and no offense, Kid, but you don’t look that tough,” he replied.

Ray dug in his pockets, pulling out a wad of cash. “I’ll definitely take a piece of that; my money’s firmly on the kid.” He slapped me on the back, grinning.

My fight wasn’t for another half hour, since I was third, so Ray and I went to stand on the sidelines and watch the first two fights. Ray was right, they were brutal, and nothing like what I’d seen here before. This really was going to hurt. I didn’t care, though—in a way I welcomed the pain; it gave me something else to think about. I’d learned to think of it that way, and it had helped me out of many a situation.

From the corner of my eye, I watched Kurt. He was incredibly focused while warming up and stretching. The only thing I would have to my advantage was his overconfidence. He thought this would be an easy win. I wouldn’t make it easy for him, though; I needed the money too damn badly.

Finally my fight was called. I smiled confidently at Ray, who looked like he was chewing off his already short nails. The fighting area wasn’t cordoned off or anything, but there was a clear space where the action took place—marked out by the crowd standing in a large circle waiting to spend their money. Essentially, you could bet on anything, but I was only interested in betting on the outcome, not how fucked up I was going to get in the process.

The crowd parted as I walked forward. People blatantly sized me up, whispering to one another as they moved aside and let me enter the “ring.” Suddenly the shouting began; people were screaming their bets at Jensen, waving cash in the air while he took their money and scribbled in his pad, giving them odds seemingly off the top of his head. I smiled as I heard one guy bet that I would be tapping out within a minute, and another bet that my nose would be the first thing to bleed.

Kurt smirked at me as he walked into the ring too, his green eyes shining with confidence. “I’m going to fuck you up so bad you’re gonna wish you’d never woke up this morning,” he growled, his voice low and threatening.

I shrugged off his threat. “Dude, look, we’re both here for the money, we don’t need to talk trash to each other,” I replied, amused by how into it he was getting. He really did think he was Tyler Durden from Fight Club, judging by the look on his face.

“I’m going to tear you a new asshole,” he spat.

I rolled my eyes. “Honestly? Can we stop with the small talk? Damn, you talk like a bitch.”

“I’m going to hurt you so bad your grandkids are going to feel it!” he hissed angrily.

I burst out laughing at that. “Oh shit, stop making me laugh, this is a serious fight!”

I was still laughing when Jensen blew the whistle to start.

Kurt immediately came at me with a right jab. I jumped to the side. He rounded and came at me again. He looked like he wanted to kill me, and my body slipped into autopilot. As he brought his foot up to kick me, I dropped down onto one knee and punched him hard in the groin.

As soon as I did it, he let out a guttural groan and staggered back a couple of steps, his eyes watering.

“Shit, man, ouch! That hurt, right? I’m really sorry,” I said, hissing through my teeth. I could see Ray and Jensen laughing wickedly in the corner.

“Motherfucker!” Kurt growled, righting himself and coming at me again. He was seriously pissed now, and I immediately regretted using the hitting-in-the-balls card too early.

He was actually a pretty good fighter and managed to land a few punches that would definitely hurt when the adrenaline wore off in a little while, but he wasn’t too strong on defense. The next time he left his face unprotected, I elbowed him in the nose and then kicked him hard in the top of his thigh, making his leg give out. As he fell to his knees, I smashed my foot into his face, knocking him out cold.

I watched as he collapsed face-first onto the cold concrete floor. When he didn’t move, I stared at his limp body in shock. Had I seriously just won? Relief washed over my body in waves. I now had money to pay my rent with.

Jensen strutted over and grabbed my arm, holding it in the air victoriously. “Let’s hear it for Kid Cole!” he shouted enthusiastically. Some people clapped or cheered, but most of them were too busy scowling at Kurt’s unconscious body on the floor. They had obviously bet against me. “Good job,” Jensen congratulated me, grinning from ear to ear.

“Thanks.” As I spoke, my jaw throbbed. While medics came over to look at Kurt, who was now coming around, I walked over to where Ray was standing. He pulled up a chair for me, and I gratefully plopped into it. I moved my joints carefully, checking for damage. My stomach was hurting a little, but nothing I couldn’t cope with. Everything else was fine as far as I could see, no permanent damage done … yet.

Ray grinned down at me, holding out a bottle of water. “Kid, that was too funny, I couldn’t stop laughing when you apologized to him for hitting him in the balls,” he said, laughing his ass off again, making me laugh, too.

Jensen came over a couple of minutes later. “Right, you’re fighting the winner of the next round.” He nodded toward two muscled guys as they walked into the middle.

“Oh, great. Well, I hope the smallest one wins,” I joked. Jensen handed me my $125 winnings. “So, what are my odds for the next fight?”

He grinned. “After that little spectacle with Kurt, I’d say the odds are certainly more in your favor now, so two to one.” He shrugged.

“Put that on me then,” I requested, offering him the money.

He grinned and nodded, scribbling my bet in his notebook. “I’d better go start the next fight. Good luck,” he said, nodding at me. I didn’t need good luck; even if I lost the next fight I had already earned $100 for getting to that round, which would pay my rent. If I won then I’d have $200 for getting to the final plus $375 from betting on myself, too.

Ray winced as we watched the two guys fighting; they were both pretty strong and well built. “How much money do you actually need? Why don’t you call it a night on what you’ve got?” he suggested almost pleadingly.

“I need as much as I can get.” I didn’t want to have to do anything like this again. Even though it was ten times better than working for Brett, this wasn’t exactly my idea of going straight. The more I earned tonight, the more pressure it took away, and the less chance there was of me getting caught in this situation again.

My phone beeped, so I pulled it open to see a text from Ellie:

Marking her? Oh, the hickey! She’d finally seen it. I laughed unashamedly; I didn’t feel guilty, I loved that mark on her skin. My next fight was due to start any minute, so I texted her back quickly:

“Who’s that?” Ray asked.

“A friend.” I smirked.

“Yeah? The redhead from the club?” he probed, his eyes wide.

“Yep,” I stated proudly as he grinned and patted me on the shoulder in congratulations.

* * *

By the end of the three fights, I was exhausted. My entire body was sore and tender—but I’d won. I sat down in a spare chair cautiously, trying not to move too fast. I had undoubtedly broken a couple of ribs.

Jensen came over almost immediately. “That was awesome! Want a regular slot here? We could use someone like you to draw in the crowds. People are going to be talking about you now,” he said, grinning. “Thanks for bringing him to me, Ray.” He gripped Ray’s shoulder, looking at him gratefully.

I shook my head, ignoring the pain that burned in my shoulder. “No thanks, Jensen. Tonight was a one-off.”

He sighed sadly. “Yeah, okay. If you ever want to come back, you let me know; there’s no waiting list for you.” From his pocket he produced a folded stack of cash with an elastic band holding it together. “Right then, so all together, including your bet, I owe you … $1,625,” he said, carefully counting it out before handing it to me.

Score! I shoved the money into my pocket and hissed through my teeth as my fingers brushed against the material. Damn it, maybe I’ve broken a finger or two as well.

“Right then, hospital, Kid?” Ray asked, looking me over slowly.

“Nah, it’s not too bad, I’ve had worse. There’s nothing serious.” I shrugged and pushed myself out of the chair. Ray sighed before walking over to his car and opening the door for me. Smiling gratefully, I sank into the leather seat and closed my eyes as he drove me back to my apartment building.

“Please don’t do this again. I don’t want to see you hurt,” Ray pleaded when we pulled up.

“I won’t. Thanks for setting this up for me tonight, and driving me and stuff.” I gave him a man hug, clenching my jaw tightly when he patted my back, making pain zip through my ribs.

I climbed out of the car and walked to my building, wearily climbing up the stairs and fumbling with my keys with my damaged fingers. As soon as I was inside, I leaned against the door and squeezed my eyes shut. My ribs were killing me; every time I took a breath they hurt. My hands were burning; I looked down at my swollen red knuckles and clenched them into fists, hissing as the pain worsened. I headed into the bathroom and ran the cold water, putting both of my hands under there, trying to cool them.

There was nothing seriously wrong with me, just plenty of bruising and a couple of broken ribs and fingers, but they’d heal on their own. After swallowing a couple of painkillers and washing my face with cold water, I headed back to my bedroom and stripped out of my clothes, trying to look in the broken mirror, but I couldn’t see much. I had a split lip, and a wicked bruise was forming on the side of my jaw; I’d probably also have a black eye by the time I woke up tomorrow.

Despite the agony I was in, I smiled as I climbed into my bed. I’d done it, and without going to Brett.

I reached out to grab the photo of Sophie from the side table, but it wasn’t there. It must have fallen on the floor, but I was just too exhausted to get up and find it. By the time the painkillers kicked in enough to let me fall asleep, it was almost two in the morning.