“No. No way. You are the smart one, Scout. You’re finishing college. We need you to design the next space shuttle.” I give my sister a reassuring look. “I won’t run. I was kidding.”
Scout shifts in her socks. “I don’t want to be without you. But I can’t stand the idea of you suffering through marriage to Banner just to stick around for me.”
“If Banner can pay Father’s debts, he can pay your tuition,” I point out. “My acting gigs are barely covering your book expenses. You’re racking up so much student debt. Maybe marrying him will be for the greater good.”
My sister chews her lip. “I put too much pressure on you, Whit. My younger sister should not be hustling to pay my tuition.”
“Like I said, you’re the smart one. It’s going to be worth it.” I go to my sister and wrap her in a hug. “Something good will happen with either outcome. Banner wins, we pay the bills. Banner loses, I’m free and we’ll find another way to make ends meet.” I smile. “Hey. Maybe that audition next week goes well and I finally get that big break.”
“You know I’m pulling for the latter, right?” Scout says, solemnly, pulling back. “I don’t want you trapped in loveless marriage.”
“Of course I know that.”
Scout considers the tickets on the kitchen table. “Anyway, something tells me all this worry is going to be for nothing. You clearly had an effect on Maxim.”
“Nah.” She laughed, ignoring the weight in her throat. “It’s just the blue balls talking.”
Later that night
It was not the blue balls talking.
Maxim Semenov came roaring out of the tunnel like a demon from hell.
I sit straight up, gaping at the sight of him from the front row.
He’s seething. Gnawing on his mouth guard like a dog chewing shoe leather.
His muscled arms glisten with sweat, his brawny torso heaving in the flashing spotlights.
Banner is already waiting in the octagon and I tear my eyes off Maxim long enough to determine that my wanna-be husband has turned white as a sheet. Maxim’s visible rage has turned the crowd into a roaring, bloodthirsty machine.
They scream and stomp and batter each other’s shoulders, their cheers growing more and more deafening the closer Maxim gets to the octagon.
“Holy shit,” Scout whispers beside me. “Maxim is going to kill him.”
“This can’t be because of me,” I murmur.
“It is. You have a magic vagina.” Scout glances down at her own lap. “You think it’s hereditary?”
We share a laugh and I close my eyes, savoring this moment where my fate hasn’t yet been determined by a fight. Or by two men, rather. My sister and I spent the whole day getting ready, dancing to music that reminded us of growing up. We raided our closets for dresses worthy of front row seats and I wore white to be ironic, since I might have to get married, depending on who wins tonight. Scout is in black, her hair in a riot of mahogany waves, glasses perched on a nose identical to mine.
I open my mouth to tell her again how pretty she looks, but I’m distracted by the sudden approach of several men in black suits and earpieces. If they didn’t look like street fighters themselves, I might wonder if they were secret service.
“What’s going on?” I shout over the noise.
One of them stands directly in front of Scout. “Excuse me, miss. Your presence is being requested in a private box.”
Scout does a double take. “Me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“By who?” I ask, sidling closer to my sister.
“Easton Brawn.”
“What?” we both screech at once.
Easton Brawn is a gangster. He is notorious in this city for his brutality. His utter unscrupulousness. There are whispers that he is the actual devil. He was a murdering, loansharking, racketeering phenom in his twenties and despite all that, he found a way to buy a stake in Ultimate Battle Corporation. It has bought him an air of legitimacy, but everyone knows he’s just as corrupt as ever. What does he want with my Scout?
“No.” I hold on to my sister’s arm. “She’s not going.”
“I’ve been authorized to bring her to the box by any means necessary.”
Scout turns terrified eyes on me. “What does he want with me, Whit?”
“You’re not going to find out.”
The guard listens to his earpiece a moment. “I beg to differ, ma’am.”
The bell chooses that moment to ding in the octagon.
But I pay it no attention, because the guard takes my sister by her elbow and pulls her from the seat. “Hey!” I lunge for her, but another man steps in front of me, this one even larger than the one who is kidnapping Scout. “Get out of my way!”
“Mr. Semenov requests that you remain seated and wait for him.”
This guard belongs to Maxim. Not Easton Brawn?
I shove at his chest. “Well too bad!”