Page 26 of The Catalyst

Nigel bringsus to an abandoned building on the outskirts of Grove Hill. I expected the street and the parking lot outside to be empty, but it's filled to the brim. Nigel is lucky there’s a space for his truck, but when I see Ronan and Judy, I realize they must’ve saved him a spot.

“What are we doing here?” I ask, flabbergasted by this entire thing.

“I was called in for a match,” he explains with a grin.

I’ve never been to a boxing match, and it seems fitting that my first match should be one where Nigel is fighting. I know I’ll be frightened the whole time that he’ll take a fatal hit, but at least I’m here. If something happens, I can go with him to the hospital and be there for him.

“Won’t me being here affect your…performance?”

I’ve heard that it's bad luck for loved ones to attend fights because their presence is distracting. I want to witness his fight, but I don’t want him to think about anything other than what’s happening inside the ring. I don’t want to risk his focus or his life.

“Not at all. Well, maybe a bit, but not in a negative way.” He flashes me his brilliant smile before leaning over the seat and kissing my cheek. “I have to impress you somehow. Maybe kicking this dick’s ass will do it.”

“Well, who are you fighting?”

He groans. “A rich douchebag who can’t accept that he can’t beat me. I’ve fought him a dozen times, and honestly, I don’t like doing it. It’s an easy match, but it's good money. A lot of people want to see this idiot get his ass handed to him. He has a lot of enemies.” He shrugs. “His ring name is Money Bags, but his real name is Martin Gray.”

Gray? Isn’t that the family that basically owns this town? If so, I hope Nigel knocks his teeth in. I bet he’s just as slimy as Judy described his whole family.

“And what’s your ring name?” I ask, curiosity getting the better of me.

He grins with pride. “The Nightmare.”

“Wait, seriously? The Nightmare?” I almost laugh but really, it fits. I wouldn’t ever want to fight him, but I bet he would haunt my dreams if I did.

“Yup. You’ll get it.”

We climb out of his truck, and he meets me at the front before wrapping his arm around my waist, throwing a bag he must’ve grabbed from the truck over his shoulder.

“How much time do we have?” Nigel asks, but Judy and Ronan gawk at us, their eyes latched onto where Nigel is touching me, and I’m not pushing him away.

I know. It’s shocking, but this feels right—us being out together as a couple.

It’s been almost eleven months since Shawn died and that’s more time than we were together. It’s time that I move on from him and this fear his death gave me.

“Dudes…time.” I snap my fingers at them, and they seem to snap out of it.

“Ten minutes,” Ronan responds, and Judy winks at me knowingly. She’s not nearly as shocked as her partner-in-crime, especially considering this is the exact opposite of what we discussed earlier. It might seem wishy-washy from her perspective, but she’s not judging me. If anything, she seems proud of me for making this jump.

Now that I’m actually with Nigel, instead of fighting him on his claim over me, I feel free, and I’m a little proud of myself too. Taking the plunge and accepting this was scary, but I think I can handle it. Heck, if Nigel can handle my chase kink, I’m sure I can handle anything he throws at me.

“That’s plenty of time.” Nigel scoffs before taking my hand and leading me to the front door. There’s security standing guard at the door, but with one look at Nigel, they let all of us pass without question.

He must be a big deal for them to just turn their head at his arrival and let him do whatever the hell he wants.

Then, a thought occurs to me. What kind of boxing match is this if it’s not happening in an actual arena?

It’s an illegal boxing match. This isn’t a sanctioned event. I’m not supposed to be here and I doubt Judy is either. Anyone present could be arrested just for attending.

Being with Nigel means witnessing a lot of illegal shit, but I didn’t expect it to start this quickly. I mean, I smoke weed and drink like most teenagers, but most teens aren’t involved in this level of stuff. Nigel and his friends are vigilantes. Sure, they only hurt bad people, but that doesn’t involve me.Thisinvolves me.

I squeeze his hand for support as we enter an open floor plan room with cement floors and pillars separating the participants from the spectators. In the middle of the room are two bare-chested men in boxing shorts with tape wrapped around their bare hands, pummeling each other until their hands are stumps.

“I’ve gotta get ready. Stay with Judy,” Nigel suggests before pulling me into him and giving me an intense kiss that has my toes curling.

“Got it,” I say as he releases me, giving me that damn smile.

“So, you two are…” Judy gives me a suggestive wink.

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