Page 92 of Reaper Flame

Rocky jumped out of his skin and almost fell off the bed. “Holy shit!”

The Seven men were sitting around me, their faces filled with concern. The blankets are damp underneath my body and stick to my cold skin. Gross.

“Candy?” Zander checked the pulse on my neck. “Can you hear me?”

I could, but all I cared about is the fierce determination flooding my veins at a hundred miles per hour. In my dreams, I was powerless to act, but I’d awoken ready.

The pain I repressed had bubbled to the surface. During my sleep, I saw all the memories I kept locked away: Crystal bleeding out on the sidewalk, Hiram’s workshop of horrors, Giles waiting at the end of the aisle, the polystyrene box… Hiram was a dead man walking.

“Is she okay?” Rocky ran his hands through his hair. “She’s freaking me the fuck out.”

“Candy?” West asked sharply. “Say something.”

I knew what I had to do. Nothing would get in my way.

“We need to go to the ring,” I said. “Now.”

“But you haven’t eaten in hours,” Rocky reminded me. “Don’t you want to eat first?”

“We’ll eat on the way,” I snapped, jumping out of bed. I didn’t give a shit about how awful I smelled. “This can’t wait.”

“I’ll get the car,” West said.

He understood my desire. He recognized the look in me that I’d seen so many times in him. I prided myself on self-control, but I needed to unleashmybeast. Hiram picked the wrong Evergreen kid to mess with all those years ago. I would use everything he taught me against him. But before I did, I needed to release some anger. To win, we had to be smart. I couldn’t think straight with the darkness clawing at my sides, begging for revenge.

“Do you want us to come along?” Rocky asked, biting his lip.

“This is something we have to do alone,” West replied definitively.

Rocky opened his mouth to argue, but Zander shot him a look that advised him otherwise.

“Are you sure you can handle this, West?” Zander asked.

West nodded once. “I have it under control.”

“Then go,” Zander ordered.

He’d seen West in the same trance-like state and understood what had to be done.

* * *

Half an hour later, we pulled into the parking lot of the Golden Gloves. My whole body buzzed like I’d downed ten Jägerbomb’s in a sitting.

West turned off the engine. “Are you sure you’re okay to—”

“Quit the excuses, West!” I held up the empty paper bag from the cheeseburger I devoured on the drive. “Let’s fucking go.”

“We have the place to ourselves,” West said, taking keys out his pocket and twirling them around his fingers. I didn’t question how he’d arranged it so fast. It didn’t matter. “We won’t be disturbed tonight.”

The lights in the gym flickered on as we stepped inside. The place smelled of stale sweat, blood and tears - just what I needed. I headed straight for the ring. West grabbed my arm to hold me back. “Not yet.”

“What’re you doing?” I spat. “I need to fight.”

“And I need you to be in control,” West said, putting his hands either side of my neck. He didn’t hold on tight, like he was trying to hold me back, but his touch was filled with concern. “At the moment, you don’t have control of your anger. You need to find the balance before we fight.”

“Why?” I snarled. “Are you scared I’ll hurt you?”

“Just hear me out,” he reasoned, stroking the top of my arms gently and leaning closer. “I want you to scream.”

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