Page 20 of Knockout Queen

He places a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios in front of me. “Oh, by the way, I heard from Jax and Finn. Well, Finn, actually. He wanted to know if we were okay.”

I peek up. “You didn’t tell him everything, did you?”

He shakes his head. “I told him you were fine, but that you didn’t know what happened to your phone. Brawler, too. I did not tell him about Johnny.”

“Good,” I say, relief flooding me. “I don’t want them anywhere near this mess.”

“Finn has a soft spot for you, I think,” Oscar says, digging into his own bowl of cereal.

“He’s a good guy. They both are,” I say, hating to leave Jax out. Sure, he’s a little abrasive around the edges, but he’s just trying to look out for his brother. I respect that more than anything. “I’m so glad they stayed away from The Ring. Who knows how many people—just spectators,” I say. “...died.” It’s like my parents’ story all over again. People, minding their own business, not doing anything to bother anyone, but wind up dead because of gang shit.

“Hey,” Oscar says, reaching over the island to put his hand on top of mine. “I know. Let’s just focus on what we can do, okay?”

While I nod in answer, the door to the apartment opens, and Magnum steps through, pocketing a set of keys. I set my spoon down and go to him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I forget about his injury at first, but he doesn’t shy away when I accidentally touch him there. He only pulls me tighter. I swear I could dig my finger right into his wound and he wouldn’t react because he only wants me next to him.

Mag stealthily locks the door behind him. Leaning over, he sniffs my hair, and I imagine he’s smelling his scent on me. His fingers clench tighter to my skin for a brief moment before he lets me go.

“What did you learn?” Oscar asks.

Magnum breathes in deep and then lets it out. He leads me to the kitchen island so I can continue eating while he reaches into the fridge and takes out a strawberry protein shake. “K used his connection at the force to get the names of the dead shooters. Old Crew guys.”

Oscar lifts a brow. “Defectors?”

“Some,” he says. “Some were our guys until…now.”

“Gregory,” Oscar guesses, voice hard.

“He won them over somehow,” Mag says. He drinks his protein shake with one hand while keeping his other around my back.

“I bet he’s fucking furious.”

“Livid,” Mag answers.

“He didn’t hurt you again, did he?”

Mag shakes his head. “He needs me right now, Kyla. I’m the least of his worries. You’re the least of his worries. He’s chomping at the bit to get Johnny back. You’d think he actually cared.”

He probably does, in his own way. I can’t help but think that. Psychos don’t know they’re psychos, right?

I’m almost afraid to ask, but I gaze up at Magnum after pushing my cereal bowl away. “Anything else?”

“Twenty-seven dead, including the shooters.”

“The police must be all over this,” Oscar says. He moves his wary gaze to me.

“They are,” Magnum agrees. “There’s only so much K can hide. There’s no secreting away twenty-seven dead bodies and explosions and a fire that probably half the Heights heard or saw.

“Is he getting heat from the cops?”

“Right now, they can’t tie him there. He’ll probably get pulled in for questioning, like the rest of us if we get tied to the scene.”

“It wasn’t a secret who was fighting that night,” I say, already worried I’m going to get sent back to the reformatory or worse. This would be the worst possible time because Johnny needs me right now.

“We’ll have to stay under their radar for as long as we can,” Mag says.

“So, what’s the plan?”

I recognize the tightness in Mag’s shoulders and the flexing of his limbs. He looks like a tiger ready to pounce. He’s itching to do something, and I’m sure it’s not discuss the night with us over and over.

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