“Like hell, you will.” I bunched my fist at my side while trying not to crush my phone with the other.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“Come on,” I barked. “You and I both know that you won’t give any of those assholes the time of day.” I’d seen it with my own eyes for fuck’s sake. She’d gone on the defensive whenever any guy at the beach, and on campus, approached her. And why wouldn’t they? They’d be fucking morons not to want to try their luck with a girl like her.
“Oh, really?” she yelled. “Because I seem to recall giving you the time of day, and you’re the biggest asshole there!”
“While that may be true, I wouldn’t do anything to you that you weren’t comfortable with.” Unlike the fucker trying to muscle in on her.
“Says the guy who told me to get on his bike, the guy who dragged my desk and me toward him, the guy who ordered me to stay away from Colby, and the guy who’s a complete and utter cock.”
“Cock?” I blurted out, then threw my head back and howled laughing. “Wow, that’s, uh, that’s some insult.”
“Oh, I have more, don’t fucking worry,” she growled. A moment passed, then the phone crackled as she blew into it. “Thank you for getting me a new tire. And moving my car.”
I waited for her to say something else, and when she didn’t, I spoke instead. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m gonna pay you back, though. I don’t want to you owe you any more than I already do.”
Fuck, my insides plummeted, hearing her talk like that. “You don’t own me anything, Kinny,” I muttered. “That shouldn’t have happened, so I fixed it.”
“Well, I appreciate it all the same.”
“Kinny?”
“What?”
“I’m sorry I was a dick at lunch. I, uh… Just sorry.”
“Is this your way of getting me to not fake break up with you?” she asked, and I heard the hesitation in her voice.
I smiled. “Maybe.”
“Jesus, Quinn, you’re a piece of work.”
I swallowed hard, knowing just how fucking true that was. “Yeah? Sue me,” I said, my tone sharp.
“Aaand there you go again.”
The phone clicked and then three beeps, telling me she’d hung up.
“Fuck.”
***
Sweat dripped down my back, steam swirled up from my skin, but I didn’t stop hitting the bag. I pounded my fists into the blue covering, hitting the sand harder and harder, the impact radiating through my hands, my wrists, and up my arms, my muscles pumping with aggression.
I’d been in the basement for four days, coming down here right after school, every day, and the weekend, while Kinsley avoided me like the fucking plague. She hadn’t returned any of my texts, wouldn’t take my calls… She hadn’t said a word to me in class, and even when I’d tried to catch sight of her, I’d fucking missed her every time. It didn’t help that people were getting onto the fact that there was something up, and had started to creep into my space again.
I grunted with each punch, ramming my hand forward with my elbow bent like I was trying to break through a stomach area, breaking bones and rupturing organs as I continued my attack on the bag.
Colby seemed to be looking for her, too. I hated that guy. The second I knew he was setting his sight on Kinsley, I had to act fast. He had a bad rep when it came to girls, and with Kinsley not knowing who the fuck he was or the kind of person he was, I had to keep her out of the potential danger. He enjoyed putting his hands on her, and I had to stand by and watch like I had no fucking clue what kind of person he was.
I held the bag with both hands and raised my knee, crashing the bone into the underneath and the side, imaging Colby’s head there instead.
“Fucker!” I roared, sending my knee into the bag over and over, my side burning with exertion. “I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Josh said, coming around the bag and holding it. He swayed with the movement, unable to steady it against my onslaught. “Quinn, quit it.” When I hit it harder and harder, he yelled, “Dexter, time out!”
Still, I ignored him.
I dropped my knee and stepped back, lifted my foot and snapped out, sending a roundhouse next to his head.
“Quinn, fucking stop!”
He released the bag and rushed behind me, gripping my shoulders and pulled me back. I shrugged him off, his hands slipping off my sweaty skin with ease.
“Fuck off!” I yelled back.
Before I could throw another kick, my head snapped to the side as Josh’s fist connected with my jaw.
I dropped my leg, my entire body tensed, every muscle bunched and every fiber firing, ready to throw down. I glared at my best friend—my brother. My nostrils flared, and my teeth squeaked as I ground my jaw, my face screwing up with unbridled rage.
“You fucking needed that,” he spat, his hands up in defense, ready to throw another punch if he had to. “You were completely out of it.”
“You shouldn’t have stopped me,” I said slowly, each syllable forced between my bared teeth.
“Like hell, I shouldn’t,” he roared. “Look at yourself. You’re never down here this long. Get upstairs and take a fucking shower because you fucking smell awful.”
Chapter 8
Kinsley
‘You’re a fighter?!’
I stared down at the text I’d sent, seeing the dots on the screen disappearing and reappearing over and over. I hadn’t answered him since I’d hung up, and I wouldn’t speak to him after I’d found out a couple of days ago. I couldn’t believe he’d kept this from me. Quinn was a fucking street fighter, and I’d been dragged into his illegal shit just by being associated with him.
I’m going to tear him a new one the next time I see him, I swear to fucking God.
Miley had been kind enough to slip up, assuming that Quinn would’ve already told me the juicy details and that his absence was his training schedule for an upcoming fight in something they called the ‘circle.’
“Oh, I know he’s got a fight coming up, so I was wondering if you need some girl time while he’s training,” she’d said.
I’d tried to act like I knew what she was talking about, saying I didn’t like to talk about what he did because I didn’t want to see that side of him, but inside, I was seething. Miley had tried to comfort me, saying she could see I was upset, but not to worry.
Oh, I was upset, all right; she just didn’t know what kind.
‘I thought you knew.’
‘How the hell would I have known? Nobody said a damn word at school.’
‘Nobody talks about it at school. That’s how it is.’
‘What, like the first rule of fight club?’
‘Something like that.’
‘You’re something else, Quinn, I fucking swear.’
‘Thank you.’
I couldn’t text him back, and I declined his call after that. I was seething, pacing my room while my fists clenched and unclenched. He’d put me in a position that could be so fucking dangerous if my mom found out. She’d have him arrested, I’d be implicated in his illegal activity…