The Shed is full. I hate this fucking place. I haven’t been here in so long, and now I’m back to help Roman. To help Hunter and Mila. I want this shit to be done, and I need to know how much money it’s going to take to get these assholes off my friends’ backs. I don’t have much to my name, but I will do whatever I can to pay them off.
“Where are they?” I ask Hunter. I want to see these Amato guys, so I know what they look like. So I know what to look out for.
But they could be anywhere in the sea of faces in the building. There are people from all different walks of life here. Men in suits, some in jeans and tees. Hell, even one guy in a Hawaiian shirt. There’s a mix of money and power. The guy standing next to you could be a millionaire or could have nothing to his name. This place draws in all the shady people from every walk of life.
“I’ll tell you when I see them; they rarely make themselves seen. But they texted and told Roman who he was to fight and lose to. It makes me fucking mad, but until I can get enough money to stop them, we don’t have another choice.”
I want to ask him why he doesn’t just ask his dad. Although, after he made Hunter move schools over taking in Roman, I doubt asking him for money for Roman would have a positive result.
Plus, Roman will never let someone pay for him. How many fights? How many football games? Months? Years? It could be endless, and then where would we all be?
I considered the idea of us all leaving, moving away when we all graduate. Fuck college. I can get a job. We can be safe in another state, in another town. The four of us.
Not five. Fuck Asher.
I heard what he did with Mila. Fuck, would’ve been hard not to; I was there when she made the call to tell Hunter and Roman about her encounter in the kitchen with Asher. It makes me angry that he thinks he can just come in and expects she’ll have a spot for him by her side.
He isn’t one of us; he doesn’t wear the blood brother scar on his palm. He hasn’t been with us all these years. There’s no history there. While I want to believe that matters, I know it doesn’t. Not really, in the grand scheme of things.
If anything, Asher could be the perfect guy for Mila because she doesn’t have a history with him. He would be a fresh start without all the bullshit that comes with our past.
I’ve been there for all the good and bad times. Like the time she said she wasn’t feeling well on the way to school and threw up all over the back seat of James’s car. It was gross and made me dry heave. Or when she caught me picking my nose… okay, that happened a lot.
But it’s those things that have made us all so close. All our inside jokes others don’t understand. She was mine first. I loved her first, and I’m going to marry her one day. I told myself that when I was ten, and I still tell myself that. Even through the ups and downs, she’s gonna be mine.
I now just have to wait until she kisses me. And I have plans to make her want to do that sooner rather than later.
“There.” Hunter points into the back corner of the room. “Can you see them? Blue suit with a red tie. And the other is wearing a black jacket with sunglasses.”
I see them, lurking in the back just as Roman gets ready to fight his opponent. The one chosen by them, the one they’ve bet on to beat Roman. And he has to put on a show and lose. Meaning, he won’t get the prize money. He gets nothing for this fight, other than to keep them off his back for another week.
Hunter strides to the side of the ring, where Roman is warming up. The guy Roman is fighting looks a lot like Asher, funnily enough. The face shape and hair are very similar to his. I want to take a photo, send it to Mila, and ask if Asher’s at home. I snort. Of course he is. He’s grounded, just like Mila. And even if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t leave. He gets to be alone with her. Asshole.
Roman pauses for a moment to watch this guy, and he says something to Hunter. I don’t move closer to hear what they’re saying. I haven’t been here or done this like Hunter always has. Even in the past, it was usually Hunter calling me if there was an issue. Not me down here, calling him. I’ve been a shit friend to Roman even before Mila returned. I just hate The Shed so much. It scares me. I just never told them that.
I turn back to watch the two assholes. Carlos and Johnny. As they talk to another guy, I try to work out what they’re doing. Are they making a deal? Ugh, what can I do if they are making deals? Nothing.
By the time I’ve turned back around, the fight has started. The crowd is loud, screaming and chanting. Roman takes a few swings at the guy, then gets taken down by a leg sweep. It looks real, like Roman’s trying to win, but his hits aren’t as powerful as they should be. He told me how he does it to keep up appearances. No one would bet on him if he looked like he was trying to lose fights; they would kick him out. He fights and wins. Then, the ones that he can win easy, he loses. This guy he’s fighting has no form. Nothing. He’s new here, from the looks of it.
Roman’s eyes flick back to where the Amato guys are standing, and he takes a few swings at the guy and misses. Roman gets hit in the jaw hard and stumbles. He hits the guy, and his nose starts to bleed.
They don’t have a blood rule here—anything goes. Roman strikes a few more times, and the guy wavers. Shit, he better back down, or this guy is gonna drop.
Hunter yells to Roman. When Roman turns around, his eyes are dark, and he looks angry. He turns back to the guy and stalks after him. Hunter shakes his head and waves his hand to get Roman’s attention. I move in closer.
“Don’t, Roman. Come back to me, man.”
Come back to me? What the—Fuck. He’s zoned out. Fight and flight mode with Roman is scary. It’s like Roman’s not in control, and right now, we need him to be.
When Roman lunges and hits the guy in the cheek, it’s as if it’s in slow motion. His opponent’s eyes roll into the back of his head as his body grows slack and collapses underneath him.
My heart stops.
“Fuck, fuck. Jace.” Hunter turns to me, gripping my shoulders as he shakes me.
I’m stunned while I watch Roman pace around the guy as the referee is counting. Roman looks to us, and I can see the worried look on his face. Fuck, what do we do?
“Jace.” Hunter shakes me again. “Get the car. Get it now and bring it round.”
My hands don’t even feel like my own. I look back to where Carlos and Johnny are, and I can’t see them. Fuck. What happens when they lose a bet? Has this happened before? What do they do?
“Now!” Hunter screams, and I’m off, pushing my way through the crowd as I reach into my pocket for my keys.
Car. Get to the car and bring it round. We will go to Hunter’s house. Fuck, do they know Roman lives there? Will they go there? Oh god, I think I’m gonna throw up.
This is bad.
I stumble through the parking lot until I reach my SUV. My heart’s pounding as I try to open the door. I press the button, and nothing. My hands are shaking, and I have to consciously still them. Every second is a second they’re closer to Roman. As soon as the doors unlock, I jump in and close the door. My breathing is the only thing I hear in the quiet car.
I said I wanted to help, that I wanted to come down here, but how can Hunter be so calm? How’s he not freaking out right now? I grip the steering wheel and start the engine. Backing out, I drive to the front door of The Shed and wait.
Every second that ticks by, every minute turning on the digital clock, and my head is screaming, “something bad is going down.” There’s a security guard outside, watching me. Every few moments, he shifts the weight on his feet, and I’m worried he’s going to come tell me to leave. That I can’t wait here.
“Come on, come on.” I look down to my phone. I want to call them, but at the same time, I don’t want them to stop and answer my call if they’re close. I feel useless.
The passenger door clicks open, and I jump, dropping my phone onto the floor.
“Fuck, let’s go.” Hunter slams the door as Roman does the same in the back. He’s bleeding from a cut under his eye, and I know he didn’t have that when I left to get the car.
I put the car into drive, and I floor it.
There’s nothing but silence, and it’s killing me. Why aren’t they talking? What do we do? What’s the plan? Is there a plan for this?
“What do we do now?” I finally ask, and Roman only grunts.
Of all the times to say something, now would be the perfect time. I’m running off adrenaline, and I’m checking my mirrors every two seconds to see if we’re being followed.
“There’s nothing we can do.” Hunter replies.
“What do you mean, there’s nothing we can do? Are they coming after us?”
How is Hunter so calm right now? This is a time to freak out.
“No, the debt just got bigger.”
Fuck.
