Page 19 of Arm Candy Warrior

He holds me tighter. “I was hoping you’d come back to school. I was fucking trapped. Reaching out to you would’ve just drawn unwanted attention, and fuck, I knew you’d be upset.”

“Not sure I got a hug when I came back,” Oscar grunts.

I roll my eyes. He got more than a hug, and he fucking knows it. “At least you didn’t get slapped,” I tell him.

“I’m not opposed to it.” Brawler looks over his shoulder, sending Oscar a dirty look. He’s no doubt picturing slapping Oscar himself.

I sink my fingers into his shirt. “I was talking about Johnny.”

Brawler twists to face me again. “You slapped Johnny?”

Oscar is smirking big time now. I guess it is kind of funny. “A few times.”

“Good. Fucker,” Brawler all but growls.

“Did you know what was going to happen?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Of course not. It would’ve been nice to know, though, Dickhead.”

Oscar pushes off the bathroom door. Brawler spins, putting me behind him like he’s going to protect me. Oscar gets in his face. “You two don’t seem to realize I can’t fucking say shit. I explained to Kyla why I didn’t tell her, but I don’t owe you fucking anything. I don’t fucking owe you a heads up if you’re not even going to join the Crew. You want to know what’s going down, you know how to fix that, don’t you?”

I shake my head. “No, no. Brawler isnotjoining the Crew.” I maneuver between the two of them and push them apart. “Fuck that. No one should join the Crew who doesn’t have to.”

“Then he needs to stop whining about what he doesn’t know.”

“Alright,” I say, raising my voice. Above us, the warning bell rings. I just hope it’s not the bell that signals the beginning of a fight. I can’t have these two at war with one another. If we’re going to all get out of this, we’ll need each other.

The two stare one another down. Neither one of them apologizes, though that shouldn’t be a surprise either. I turn to Brawler, my face twisting into a smile. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” I tell him. A warmth envelops my chest.

He smiles back, his Adam’s apple moving underneath the ink on his throat. “I was so relieved when I heard people talking about not only how you beat up a grown-ass man but survived a shootout. I think you’re more than just the Uppercut Princess now. You’re like the Heights Princess.”

I shake my head. That fucking nickname. Maybe Oscar’s right. It’s never going away now. Not until I get the hell out of the Heights, anyway.

“I’m not trying to rush,” Oscar says, “but let’s wrap this up. We can talk at lunch.”

I squeeze Brawler’s hands. “Johnny put Oscar in charge of looking after me at school. That’s how I was able to come back. I’m going to all his classes today.”

Brawler squints, but then light fires in his eyes, like he’s already put together why I’d be going to all his classes. “Okay. See you at lunch.”

“Lunch,” I say, like it’s a promise.

Oscar and I walk out of the bathroom first. When we’re just about to turn the corner toward Oscar’s first class, the bathroom door swooshes open again, but I don’t look back even though seeing Brawler for the first time in four days was one of the happiest moments of my life.

“Are you sure you like both of us?” Oscar teases. His arm twitches between us like he wants to throw it over my shoulder but can’t. We’re all working against our own natural instincts here. For a moment, I imagine telling Johnny I’m seeing Oscar and Brawler. For a split second, I even imagine what it would feel like if he was okay with it, but that would never happen.

In Johnny’s eyes, I’m his. I’ve never been a proponent of owning someone. Even when married, you don’t belong to someone. You cohabitate because you want to. Because you wouldn’t want to with anyone else. Johnny didn’t grow up with the same morals others do. Hell, Oscar and Brawler are different, too. The Heights is like another dimension with different rules, laws, and codes that makes it hard to navigate. But for the time being, that’s what I have to do. I don’t have a choice. I not only want to stay here to avenge my parents, I’m a part of this world now. I can’t leave until I escape, and I’m not escaping until I put a bullet between Big Daddy K’s eyes.

* * *

Just as I thought,none of the teachers blink an eye when I show up in all of Oscar’s classes. No one gives us shit either when Oscar tells the person he sits next to in every class to vacate their seat so I can sit in it. In fact, some even ask me about my fights. They act like the shootout was UFC 238. They gloss over the fact that people died there. Or maybe it’s just such a part of their world that it doesn’t affect them like it should. Either way, the ones I’ve spoken to about it can’t wait for me to fight again, most of them asking when my next fight is so they can come watch.

Oscar fields those questions. He’s like a politician of the gang world. He’s a smooth talker, making everything sound good even though it might be a pile of shit with sparkly accessories to dress it up.

On our way to lunch, we come across Nevaeh in the hall. She looks us over but has the brain cells to keep going without saying anything. Now, I wouldn’t need to hold back if I wanted to kick her ass. I’m sure it would look good to everyone else, too. As Johnny says, ‘we don’t give fights away for free’, but a teaser certainly couldn’t hurt. Plus, I fucking owe her a few bruises.

We get to lunch and find Brawler sitting in the corner of the room by himself, telling everyone to fuck off when they try to sit with him. When we sit, the annoyances double with everyone trying to sit with us until pretty much everyone takes a seat at another table, leaving us three to ourselves.

It’s difficult as fuck to sit next to two guys you’re attracted to and not flirt, touch their hand, or, you know, act like you like them. I might as well wear a nun outfit while I’m at school now, and trust me, the outfit Glo brought for me to wear is a far cry away from the ample black and white fabric and headpieces nuns wear. I’m in a crop top and booty shorts, but on the upside, I do fit in with everyone else now, so there’s that. If I gave a fuck about fitting in, I might feel better about coming to school now. I don’t.