Make You Beg

“I grabbed a gun from your dad’s safe that had rubber bullets for you to use,” I inform him.

“And yours?” he asks, arching a brow.

“They were real.”

He gives me a quick look. “Planned on shooting someone?”

“Anyone was a target.” I was going to do whatever needed to be done to ensure that Henley left there still breathing, even if she was unconscious.

“And what were rubber bullets going to do?” He frowns, confused by my actions.

“I knocked her out and dressed her in a bulletproof vest. She needed protection, and that was the only thing I could think of at the time. I figured if you did shoot her, you’d go for her heart—quick death.”

He’s silent for a long moment before he asks. “And if I had gone for her face?”

“I don’t know, Dax,” I snap, my blood pressure rising at that thought. “When I saw that your dad was going to do it, I had to act quick, so I shot her in the back. I was close enough to her that when I shot, it threw her to the ground, hitting her head and knocking her out. She got lucky.” There was never any blood other than what was coming from her face, but I was hoping that no one would notice it. The shock of me actually shooting her needed to be surprise enough that no one looked that closely. Otherwise, she would have been lying in a pool of blood.

“Yeah.” He snorts. “Lucky.” Silence falls over the car once again before he asks another question. “What would you have done had things gone wrong, and she had died?”

“I would have let Scout kill me right then and there,” I answer without hesitation.

_______________

We make our way through the crowd of people at Death Valley. Dax and I get to the Graveyard, and I push what happened last night out of my head. I don’t have time to think about what could have been or how many ways shit could have gone wrong.

The crowd cheers as they watch the current fight. I’m thankful Scout isn’t one of them out there. Hopefully, I got here soon enough.

I walk over to Matthew. “Where the fuck is Scout?” I shout over the music.

“Getting fucked,” he answers.

“Goddammit,” I growl. I don’t have the time or patience for Scout to pull this shit. He did this very same thing after Henley disappeared. It was brutal.

“Where?” Dax demands.

Matthew points over toward the men’s restroom right off the cafeteria.

“I’m fighting in his place,” I inform Matthew.

He runs a hand through his blond spiked hair. “Man, you know the rules.”

I step into him, pushing my chest into his. “I’m fighting in his fights tonight.”

He nods once. “Got it.”

“How many are there?”

“Five.”

Fuck, Scout! Did he want to get his face bashed in? I turn to Dax. “Go grab his ass and take him home.”

“No, we’ll wait for you.”

I shake my head. “I’ll get a ride. Take him home.”

He nods and slaps me on the back. “Good luck.”

Matthew leans in. “When was the last time you fought?”

I almost laugh at that. “Think I’ve lost my touch?”

He shrugs. “Just curious.”

“Take my money, shut the fuck up, and put me in the ring,” I state.

Matthew nods. “Yes, sir.”

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

HENLEY

I PULL THE baseball cap farther down over my forehead. I snuck out to Death Valley. After the guys left, I jumped in Law’s G-Wagon, afraid someone would notice my car, and headed this way. As I was pulling into the parking lot, I just happened to see Dax drag a very fucked-up Scout out to his car. I almost followed them but realized Law wasn’t with them. He still had to be inside. I didn’t want to leave him, not after what he did for me. So I put a Graveyard hoodie and a baseball hat on that I took from Law’s closet. Not like I’m going to be on the six o’clock news or anything for Mr. Monroe to see, but I thought it would be best to take a few precautions.

I make my way through the crowd of people, keeping my head down and holding the bill of my hat so no one knocks it off.

I come up to the Graveyard on the second story and stand by the railing. As I look down, there’s a platform right below me in the corner. A woman dances on it dressed in a bikini top and cutoffs that she has undone and rolled down. Guys stand back and watch her dance. One even throws water on her—hence the bikini top.

The music comes to a stop, and the crowd quiets. The guy with the microphone walks out to the center. “We’ve got a treat for you tonight, boys and girls.” The crowd cheers. “Westbrook is in the house! It’s a Reaper!”

I look over to see Law, and he reaches up and removes his baseball hat, followed by his T-shirt. He leaves his shoes and jeans on.