Page 54 of The Masks We Burn

“But you could ifyouwanted to. I’m just putting it out there. He wants to make it a league, turn it into a community thing. There’s another camp during spring break if you want to give it another shot.”

Warmth radiates through my body, a renewed sense of hope setting me on the verge of tears. “Really?”

He clasps a heavy hand on my shoulder before standing. “Yeah, man. I’ll drop your information to Bell.”

My mouth pops open twice before I’m able to get out the proper thanks. Spencer smirks, his eyebrows raising. “Like my mom always used to say. If you hold fast and hold steady, you’ll make it to the other side.”

* * *

Ding Ding Ding.

The bell signals the end of our second round, giving me a minute break to catch my breath. I lean into the fence, letting Mr. Jameson slather petroleum over my face and spew facts I already fucking know.

My opponent’s done his research, and he’s on my ass, kick after kick, trying to wear me down and he’s doing a damn good job. I’m losing stamina, and soon my evasion techniques won’t do shit when he catches me. He’s landed a few hits to my body, but luckily nothing too damaging.

“Normally I wouldn’t suggest this, William, but you’re going to have to push. If he gets a couple of kicks in, you have to just eat ’em and force him back. You land a hit, you keep them coming. He’s just as tired, if not more since you’re playing defense. He’ll break.”

I nod in understanding, clenching my teeth and wincing when he inspects a cut the fucker left on my ribs. What the fuck is it with these guys and not cutting their fucking toenails?

A flash of pink in my periphery forces me to turn my head. Amora sits front row with her father, the cutest fucking worried face pulling down her delicate features. Her pouty lips form a wordless question.You okay?

I smirk, giving her a quick wink before the bell indicates it’s time for the last round. This guy’s an inch taller than me, but slimmer. His lean muscle gives him a quick fist, but Mr. Jameson is right, he’s tired. Dark circles highlight his eyes, and the small cut I left at his brow is still dripping despite the goop of jelly placed over it.

Keeping back a few paces, I watch him like I have all night, and sure enough, he tries to jut out a foot that I’m tempted to grab and break at the ankle. I’m so fucking tired of him coming for my thighs which were already worked the night before by holding up Amora in the shower.

He backs up again and looks at the large timer behind us. He knows he’s got four more minutes before I win based on the point system. He’s missed too many shots while I’ve landed every punch I’ve thrown, giving me a much better ratio. And just like that, he panics, rushing at me in one last attempt to get me down.

He kicks and I curve to the right, letting his foot barely graze my stomach, and push forward, connecting with the side of his face and sending him to the floor immediately. I jump on top, and land hit after hit until the bell sounds and the ref is on me, pulling my shoulder enough that I relent, backing away.

Mr. Jameson smiles, meeting me inside the ring, inspecting my stomach again, before shaking his head. “It’s too bad you don’t love it. You’re a natural.”

My face snaps to his, surprised by his words. But his smile only grows, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve been doing this a long time, kid. I could tell by the second fight.”

“I’m gonna see it through,” I tell him. My contract was for a preliminary five fights, and I do plan to finish, not only because I signed a contract, but because Amora did me this favor.

The ref calls us to the middle after he gets the guy on his feet, announcing me winner. As I exit the ring, Amora and her father stand at the entrance to the back hallway.

Amora is beautiful in her long-sleeve white cropped sweater and flowy black skirt that billows out around her. Her hair is pulled up in a high ponytail and all I can picture is wrapping it around my fist as I fall in place behind her.

I grin, leaning in and kissing her cheek, pleasantly surprised she doesn’t flinch at all the sweat dripping from my face. “Hey, sugar.”

Turning to Mr. Orlov, I shake his hand, suddenly aware of how many eyes are on me. “Sir, thank you for coming out.”

“No, the pleasure was mine. You’re amazing, really. I’m impressed. How do you feel? Ready to be the main show?”

Swallowing around the thick knot, I shrug. “This one took a little more out of me, sir. But I’d say a few weeks.”

He nods before turning to Mr. Jameson. I look back at Amora, who’s running her eyes over the small damages to my body. There’s only the small thing on my ribs, and I’ll have a few bruises on my upper thighs, but nothing even remotely severe. “Are you sure so soon?”

I smirk, the small hint of her apprehension despite her aggressive demeanor gives me all the more reason as to why I like this damn girl so much. “Come home with me.”

She sucks her bottom lip in, clamping down as her head bobs up and down. I snake my hand around her waist and draw her in, careful not to mess up her pretty makeup. “Wait for me in the lobby. Let me rinse off and I’ll be right down.”

Amora nods again and I kiss her nose, following Mr. Jameson to the elevators.

After a quick shower, I get dressed and shove my stuff in the duffel bag. Mr. Jameson comes in and bandages my side before letting me leave. When I make it to the elevator door for the lobby, a vaguely familiar girl stands near the panel. She sees me and smiles, her teeth so damn white I want to squint, before nodding to the buttons. “Going down?”

I’m about to.

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