Page 52 of Bad Boy
“Stop it,” a deep voice growls, giving me a little shake.
Fucking Gus.
His thick-ass arms are banded tightly around me, hauling me backward as I struggle wildly. He’s just too fucking big.
Connor scrambles to his feet, clutching his stomach, blood dripping from his mouth.
“Put me. The fuck. Down. Now,” I say with clenched teeth, squeezing my hands into tight fists as violence hums under my skin. Anger and fury vibrate beneath the surface, waiting for his grip to go slack. All I need is for Gus to relax for one second so I can slip out of his clutches. Maybe throat-punch him. Or maybe a rear-naked choke hold. If I can get that just right. . . It would be lights out in a matter of—
“I can see you plotting. Stop it,” he rumbles.
“How can you see my face when you’re behind me?”
His meaty arms tighten around me in warning. “Shut up, you little shit. I don’t know what Connor did to piss you off, but we have rules around here. Now, I’m going to let you go. And both of you are gonna control yourselves. We have a game next weekend, and we need Connor. So if you go after him again, you and I will have a problem.” He lets go, shoving me away roughly.
“Then put your boy on a fucking leash and muzzle him!” I shout.
Gus stabs a thick finger at Connor when he advances on me. “Hey! You! Go stand by the fucking bench! Goddamnit!” He runs his hand over his close-cropped hair, and his deep brown skin glistens with sweat like this situation is causing undue stress.
“New kid!” he barks.
“It’s Remi.” I grit my teeth in annoyance but listen anyway.
“The rules here are we don’t fight at school. We don’t risk our futures at the academy. If you got beef and wanna fight, you come to me.”
“Come to you?”
“Yes. Me. I run things around here. Fights.” He huffs out an annoyed breath, crossing his arms in front of his barrel chest.
Okay. So I definitely misjudged him. Not a meathead at all. Because this is fucking genius. This is fuckingperfect.
Gus turns to the bloody-mouth douchebag seething on the other side of the trail from us. “Connor. If you wanna fight, you know the drill, man.”
Connor’s jaw is clenched so tightly I can practically hear his teeth grinding. “Fine. A thousand bucks.”
A thousand bucks? Say what?
“Tomorrow night, then. A one thousand dollar wager. Winner takes all, plus a percentage of bets. We’ll hold an impromptu fight night in the woods. There’s an old barn twenty minutes down the road. It’s abandoned but not too run-down. All the local kids use it to hang out and get wasted, so you’ll have a bigger audience. More bets. More money.” His eyes shine with greed and a manic sort of excitement that I can relate to.
Knock Connor out fair and squareandearn twenty percent of the money I owe Mom?
“I’m in.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
LINC
By the time Remi comes back from the trail with the missing red oak leaf in hand, Dr. Benson and half the class have already arrived at camp. The sun is starting to set, and the thick forest surrounding us further blocks the last bit of golden light. But it’s not too dark to see the disheveled state he’s in. My eyes immediately track his mud-caked clothes and the red mark blooming across his cheekbone, right under his left eye.
Movement at the treeline has my attention switching to Connor and Gus, who emerge looking just as rough.
Everyone goes quiet.
“Don’t tell me it was the bears,” Dr. Benson tries to joke, and a few kids snicker.
“Nope. It was the cliff. Connor almost fell off, and I had to save him,” Remi deadpans.
My curious gaze flicks to Connor, and his jaw ticks, the pinched expression on his face showcasing his true feelings. His knuckles are a little red, just like Remi’s, and he has dried blood smeared across his chin.
