Halfway through the afternoon, Alyssa realized that she had no better chance to stop thinking about Prince and his predicament than she had to stop breathing. She also couldn’t stop thinking about his note. So, around four p.m., she sent him a text, as brief and to-the-point as his post-it message:
Got your note. Come over after the fight.
It was now seven p.m., and he had yet to respond. Alyssa wondered if she may be pushing any boundaries, but she didn’t care. She knew that in order for them to have a real chance at making it out of Pinebrook, boundaries would have to be pushed, walls would have to be smashed, and comfort zones would have to be stepped out of. Still, the radio silence made her wonder whether Prince knew that, too.
The more she thought about it, the more the sensation that he may not want to be saved grew. If that was truly the case, things would be even more complicated than anticipated. Alyssa knew he had to believe as much as she did, or everything would be for nothing. She knew he had to invest as much as she did, or they were never getting out of there. Except that there was no “they” yet.
For the first time since she had decided to stay and help him, Alyssa allowed herself to think about the “what ifs.” What if she couldn’t convince him that he could ever get out? What if she couldn’t make him cooperate? What if her plan failed? What if he ended up staying with the Devil’s Fighters despite everything?
What would Alyssa do then? Would she give up on him? Would she leave? Or would she stay and keep trying?
The latter possibility already brought on a sense of hopelessness that she wasn’t ready to live with for the rest of her life. She had escaped. She had worked very hard to escape. If she really couldn’t do it, if she really couldn’t convince him to build his own escape too, then there was nothing else she could do for him. She would have to leave him; this time for good. There would be no coming back in eight years.
It broke her heart just to think about it.
By the time she got to Lynn’s diner, Alyssa had convinced herself that she’d better get used to the idea that obsessing over Prince would be a full-time deal—at least, as long as he fought in the rings. It was simply impossible for her to think about anything else, so she decided she would save herself time and not even try—and just roll with it.
Much to the disappointment of the lingering patrons, the diner was indeed closing up for the day when Alyssa walked in. As the crowd cleared out, it allowed her to really appreciate what Lynn had done with the place. The last time Alyssa had been to the diner it was for the reception following her parents’ funeral, and then the place had been packed with grieving townsfolk. Now, she could finally take a good look around.
Lynn had scrapped the seventies furniture her father had gone for in his days and resumed that of her grandfather’s, which was the original furniture. She had redone the bar and installed a few fixtures. The result was a perfectly charming mixture of old allure and modern efficiency. The jukebox—the only piece from the seventies that had survived Lynn’s ax—was playing a soft rock selection that had the power to instantly make anyone at ease.
The vibe of the place was both vibrant and relaxing, and Alyssa found herself loving it.
Lynn emerged from the back and lit up as soon as she saw her, offering a bright smile.
Half an hour later, the diner was closed down and only Lynn and Alyssa remained, sitting at a table and enjoying the best burger Alyssa ever remembered having.
“Oh my God,” she said in-between mouthfuls. “This is amazing. I’m so happy you took over.” While the diner had been an institution in the town for decades and the food had always been great, it had never been this great.
“Thanks,” Lynn said with a proud smile.
“So how’s your fiancé?” Alyssa asked with a grin.
Predictably, Lynn blushed. “He’s good. We’ve started to plan.”
“Really? Do you have a date yet?”
“Not yet,” Lynn admitted. “It’ll be in about a year, but we don’t know when yet.”
Alyssa listened to Lynn gush about her fiancé and their plans for a life together. Trevor Guillory had been Lynn’s boyfriend in high school. They had split when he left for college and she went to work full-time in her father’s diner. As it so often happens, they had parted ways when the time for life decisions came. But against all odds Trevor had come back to Pinebrook after college, and even though they had resisted each other at first, the pair had ended up falling back in love. They had not left each other’s side since.
Alyssa couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that hit her then. She and Prince had also found each other again as adults, but she had no clue what they were. She wasn’t even sure they had fallen back in love with each other—perhaps it was just a lot of affection and even more of lust.
She pushed those thoughts away and focused back on Lynn and her love story, which admittedly was a delight to hear. She asked her friend questions about what kind of wedding she wanted, in what season, and what kind of food would she serve. Lynn wanted a small but beautiful wedding. She didn’t care very much about the season, as long as it wasn’t the summer, because summers in Louisiana were unforgiving and she didn’t want to sweat over her wedding gown. She had not thought about the food yet, but she would like something classy, like salmon.
They chatted on mindlessly for a while, touching on light topics that helped take Alyssa’s mind off of much heavier subjects for a few precious minutes. But for all of her mission to make Alyssa’s suddenly oh-so-complicated life a little easier, even Lynn eventually had to ask.
“So,” she began, in the not-so-casual tone of someone trying to be casual, “Prince came by yesterday. He gave me a note to give to you.”
Alyssa had to admit she was relieved to learn that Prince had not found a way to enter her house while she was not there but that he simply remembered her telling him she had given Lynn a spare set of keys.
“Yes,” she said, “I saw it.”
“Anything you want to tell me?”
“I don’t particularly want to,” Alyssa admitted, “but I guess you’re bound to find out eventually anyway, so I might as well just tell you myself.”
Lynn’s eyes widened. “Oh my God! Are you back together with him?”
“Yes. No,” Alyssa corrected herself quickly. “I don’t know.”
Lynn frowned. “Okay, you’ve lost me.”
Alyssa sighed and took a much-needed swig from the beer in front of her. She told Lynn everything, the whole story—from Prince showing up one night with a hurt friend hanging limply at his side, to her having sex with Prince on the kitchen’s floor, to Prince’s truth which he revealed to her so unexpectedly. The words rolled easily off her tongue, and only as she spoke did she realize just how badly she needed to tell it all to someone.
By the time she was done, Lynn’s mouth was hanging open.
“That look right there?” Alyssa said, nodding to her friend’s bewildered expression. “That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling since.”
“I just…I can’t believe it,” Lynn said, her voice small with shock. “All this time I thought Prince had gone mad. I spent years insulting him in my mind and shutting him out as best as I could, mistrusting him for having joined the Devil’s Fighters.”
Alyssa sighed. “I know. I spent years hating him for what he did to me.”
“I don’t get it. Why didn’t he speak up back then?”
Alyssa shrugged. “I guess he was afraid. Or maybe he just didn’t want to hear me try to convince him to come with me anyway.”
“You would’ve asked that of him?”
“Wouldn’t have you?” Alyssa retorted. “His father’s an asshole, you know that.”
“I suppose,” Lynn eventually conceded. “I don’t understand though,” she said after a moment. “Why are you back? To be with him?”
“Sort of.”
Lynn frowned. “Alyssa,” she said carefully, “you can’t throw away your life because of him. Look at what you’ve built for yourself up in Canada. Do you really want to leave all that behind and start from scratch in a place you hate?” She hesitated. “And do you really want to be involved with a Devil’s Fighter?”
“Prince is not a Devil’s Fighter,” Alyssa said immediately, surprising even herself with the vehemence of her response. “And anyway, no, I don’t want any of that.”
“You’ve lost me again,” Lynn said. “If not to be with him, then why are you here?”
“I’m here to get him out.”
Lynn stared at her. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Alyssa said firmly. “I’m getting him out of this life. I’m getting him out of the fighting rings and out of Pinebrook. For good.”
“What…how?”
“I don’t know,” Alyssa admitted. It was indeed a huge flaw in her plan, but she would figure out a way eventually. “I’ll think of something.”
“You’ll think of something?” Lynn repeated, incredulous. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Alyssa blinked, surprised at her friend’s fervor.
“If I remember correctly, Bennie already paid you a visit to tell you to stay away from Prince. What do you think he’s going to do when he finds out that you plan on stealing away one of his own?”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out—at least not until all is said and done,” Alyssa said.
“How?” Lynn asked again. “How exactly are you gonna do that?”
“I don’t know—”
“Alyssa, this is nuts,” Lynn cut her off, worry written all over her features. “You don’t just defy Bennie Lenday. You’re gonna get yourself killed.”
Alyssa sighed. “I understand your concern, but—”
“Do you?”
Alyssa blinked again. “What?”
“Do you really understand my concern?” Lynn’s blue eyes were burning a hole through her. “You’ve been away for eight years, Lyssa. That does something to a person. I don’t think you really remember what it’s like to deal with them.” “Them,” of course, being the Devil’s Fighters.
“I remember.”
“No,” Lynn said gently but firmly. “You don’t.”
Alyssa knew in that moment that her friend was right. She remembered the feeling of knowing the motorcycle gang owned her hometown. She remembered the hatred and the disgust that she always harbored for Benedict “Bennie” Lenday and his “club.” But she didn’t remember what it was like, not really. Not after having just spent eight years in a safe, uncorrupted environment.
“Do you really want to do this?” Lynn asked.
“Yes,” Alyssa replied immediately. It was a no-brainer, really. “I can’t leave him behind again, Lynn. I just can’t. I have to save him. He deserves more than this.”
Lynn thought about it for a very long time. Eventually, she nodded. “Fine,” she said. “Then, I’ll help you.”
“What? No,” Alyssa said quickly. “No, I can’t let you do that. I can’t let you get involved. You could get hurt, and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you.”
“Well, then you should have thought about it before you told me this story.”
Alyssa cringed visibly.
“I don’t mean it like that,” Lynn said, noticing her pained expression. “I just mean, we’re friends. Aren’t we?”
“Of course,” Alyssa said readily. Because they were; there was no denying it.
“Then, I have to help you,” Lynn said. “I can’t just turn my back, Lyssa. Don’t ask me to do that.”
Alyssa stared at her. She saw a kind of fierce determination in Lynn’s eyes that she recognized as similar to her own. She realized then that her friend hated the Devil’s Fighters almost as much as she did—if not more.
“OK,” she agreed finally, relenting. “But you’ll stay as out of the line of fire as possible.”
Lynn laughed. “Believe me, I intend to. And we’d best work to make it so that you also don’t get hurt.”
“And Prince,” Alyssa said. “I don’t want him getting hurt either.”
“Well, obviously.”
“I can’t believe it. While we’re sitting here enjoying burgers and fries, he’s out there fighting.”
Lynn gave her a sympathetic smile. “If it’s any consolation,” she said, “I hear he’s the best fighter the Devil’s Fighters have ever had amongst their ranks.”
Alyssa grimaced, feeling a tightening of the all-too-familiar hold that anxiety had on her stomach. “No,” she said, “that really doesn’t console me at all.”
And it really, really didn’t.
She was still thinking about what Lynn had said when she got into her car and drove home. She took the long route, so she could think some more. Idly, she considered that her head might explode really soon, what with all the thinking (or rather, overthinking) that she was doing. Still, she couldn’t help it. No one in her predicament would be able to push certain thoughts out of their head.
“I hear he’s the best fighter the Devil’s Fighters have ever had amongst their ranks.”
Alyssa’s hands tightened around the wheel so much so that her knuckles turned white.
It angered her beyond words that Prince would be so highly valued for his fighting abilities. It meant that he had worked at it—which was understandable; the man needed to stay alive after all. But it was just one more testament to how awful his life had been for the past eight years. Alyssa shuddered to think of what he might have had to do in order to hone his skills like that. How many times had he gotten hurt? How many times had he almost died, even?
Alyssa remembered the scars she had spotted on Prince’s body the time they had sex in her parents’ kitchen—it was the only unpleasant memory of the experience. The scars had not been many, but they had been deep. She had wanted to ask him, but she knew better.
And yet, she knew that one day she would have to ask him about his physical scars and about his emotional ones, and she was already very, very afraid to hear the answers.