Page 13 of Uppercut Princess

It could be Johnny.

It could be Big Daddy K, and somehow, they’ve put it all together and know what I’m here to do.

The banging persists, so I get up, tiptoeing my way to the door while straightening my clothes.

I’m about to peek through the peephole when a gruff voice says, “I know you’re in there, New Girl!”

I close my eyes briefly. Brawler’s on the other side of the door. I recognize the annoyance in his voice. Out of everyone it could be, he’s the safest to open the door for. In his way, he’s tried to protect me. Just to be sure it’s him, I check the peephole and then go through the process of unlocking all the locks when I recognize the tribal tattoos flowing up his arms. I pull the door open. “I hope you aren’t dropping off more cookies. I threw the last ones away.”

His gaze narrows at me, but then moves behind me, once again looking into my empty apartment. “No guardians again?”

“They work a lot.”

“They must have shit jobs.”

“Doesn’t everyone around here have shit jobs?”

His lips purse. Instead of responding, he pushes past me like he owns the place.

“What the fuck?” I growl.

He turns toward me, pushing the door closed to enclose us in this space. He checks the locks before turning a calculating gaze on me. “We have a problem.”

I try to keep still. I hope this is it. My chance to get into the depths with them, but in the Heights, who knows what this could be about? He could be pissed I said his mom’s cookies were shit. I don’t know. “You and I have a problem?”

“No,youhave the problem.”

I fold my arms over my chest. “Is this about Nevaeh because I really don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” I lie. My skin tingles at the prospect.Please. For the love of God, let me fight her.

“It was about Nevaeh, but it’s not anymore.” Brawler does a once-over as he shakes his head.

Well, fuck. I try not to look put out.

“There’s some shit you don’t understand about your new school. Even if you heard people whisper about it, you still don’t know shit. Trust me.”

I just stare, waiting for him to keep going, trying not to look at the ink on his forearms.

“In Rawley Heights, we have the Heights Crew. For lack of a better term, it’s a gang.”

“Okay…”

His jaw clamps shut. I can’t help that I find Brawler intriguing. I totally had him pegged wrong. Here I thought he was going to be a badass fighter, which I’m sure he is, but he’s more than that, too. Or maybe I’ve just done my part well, looking like a pathetic scared kitten, and he feels like he needs to warn me about the dangerous side of the Heights.

Still, it doesn’t add up. I’ve seen him around the other people in school. I’ve even watched him interact when I was gathering information about the Crew. He barely talks. He’s talked more to me than I’ve seen him talk to anyone.

Passing his thumb over his lip, he says, “Nevaeh took her beef with you to Johnny Rocket. Remember when I told you that if you got called out, you have to fight?” He waits for my nod, then continues. “After she took it to him, he agreed you’re fighting, but not with Nevaeh.”

This time, the look of concern that passes across my face is real. If not Nevaeh, then who? “And…?”

“Cherry.”

I rack my brain, trying to remember if I’ve come across the name Cherry, but I come up with nothing. “Does she go to our school?” I ask.

Brawler shakes his head. “Used to. Not anymore.” He runs his hands over his blond hair. “Fuck. I was hoping I’d have more time to introduce you to all of this, but for some fucking reason, you stick out to everybody.”

“Introduce me to what?”

“The fight ring,” he says, gaze meeting mine. The struggle in his blue depths is real.

---