“I’ll be just outside,” Magnum says. I don’t break eye contact with Oscar to look at Magnum, but he knows what’s happening.
As soon as the door clicks behind him, I stand. My hands turn to fists, and Oscar looks me over. “You seem pissed.”
“That’s a fucking understatement, asshole.”
He widens his eyes on purpose. “And here I thought you’d be all over me.”
“Oh, I’m about to be all over you,” I say, moving closer to him. I shove him back. “You knew what was going down.”
He stumbles back a few steps, lifting his hands in the air.
“Don’t deny it,” I growl.
“Yes, I knew.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to say anything?” I seethe.
“Why? So you could worry? So you could get your ass kicked in the fight knowing you wouldn’t be able to do anything about what’s going down afterward? Your head wouldn’t have been in the fight, it would have been on what was about to happen!”
“I thought what I was doing meant something!”
“It did,” Oscar protests. He drops his hands to his sides. “Did you not just get added to the fight ring like you wanted? Do you think you would’ve been added if you lost?”
“Don’t try to talk your fucking way out of this. Not telling me was a bullshit move, and you know it.”
“Listen, I don’t know what kind of power you think I have, Kyla, but newsflash, I don’t have shit. I have nothing. When I get told to do something, I fucking do it. That’s it. End of story.”
“Oh, so you’re a fucking coward? That’s what you’re telling me?”
He grits his teeth together, and I immediately want to take the words back. “Walking into that parking lot last night even though I knew people were going to fucking die was a coward thing to do? Not telling you what was going to happen because I didn’t want you distracted was a coward thing to do?” He cracks his knuckles. “I guess if that’s being a coward, sign me the fuck up. I’ll own up to it. I’ll wear a fucking crown that says that shit. I’ll wear it every fucking day for the rest of my life.”
The fight’s left me now. He’s right. Sort of. In a way. What is right or wrong anymore? “Yeah, well, who knows how long that will be?” I snipe back because I can’t help myself. I’m mad and I don’t have a way to let it out.
Oscar’s cockiness is back. “I’ve already outlived my shelf life because of where I am. Because I keep my mouth shut and do what I’m told. Every day after the day I returned to the Heights is a fucking blessing. That’s what I know.”
The short glimmer of pure hate in his eyes makes me wonder why he posed his answer that way. What happened the day he got back to the Heights? “This is insane,” I say, the words dropping from my lips before I can even think about them.
“Welcome to the Heights, Princess.”
His words seem all too familiar. I rub my arms to try to bring life back into them. Every part of me feels dead or lost.
“Now,” he says, “can we start this again? I swear to fuck I’ve missed you. I couldn’t come to you. I couldn’t explain shit. And I knew all along you’d be wanting to castrate me.”
My lips part, and I crack a smile. “Maybe.”
“Fuck that. It’s a definite yes. You didn’t see the look in your eyes just now. That was some psycho shit right there.”
“And I’m guessing you don’t like psycho girls?” I ask coyly.
“Are you kidding me? They’re my favorite.”
He reaches his hand out to me, and I take it. He pulls me close, wrapping me in a hug. He kisses my neck, a brief touch of lips pressed against bare skin, but it helps settle me.
I pull away, not because I want to, but I don’t want to get caught together either. I wipe at my eyes and then curl my hair around my ears. “Have you heard from Brawler?”
He looks to the ground and shakes his head. “The whole thing was a mess. I couldn’t find you. I didn’t see him. When I made contact, I couldn’t even risk asking if you were fucking alive because I didn’t want to raise suspicion. I tried texting you, but you must not have your phone.”
I shrug. “I have no idea where that is. I think it was in the sweatshirt I took off before the fight. Hell, it might even still be in the parking lot.”