Page 66 of Bad Boy
His hand slides over and grips mine tightly. “I couldn’t let you go alone. That’s not what a good friend would do,” he tells me earnestly, squeezing my fingers. “And friendships go both ways. You’ve been there for me so much. Now it’s my turn to be there for you.” He sounds vulnerable, and I process the truth in his words. I’ve never really had a truly good friend like Lincoln Anderson.
“You’re right, and I’m glad you’re here, Preppy. Shouldn’t have told you not to come.” I don’t tell himwhyI shouldn’t have left him alone.I still haven’t told him about the threatening texts. And he doesn’t know about my less-than-stellar past, which is more than likely creeping back to bite me in the ass.
Instead, I distract him with a few more stolen kisses. I bite his lip and suck on it gently, easing the sting before reluctantly peeling my mouth away.
“Let’s head out. Gus says it’s a ten-minute walk.”
I stuff my car and cabin keys into my boot, leaving the rest of the bulky keychain behind with my ID. I need to be completely hands-free.
At least I don’t have to risk my hoodie now—Lincoln can hold it. I’ve lost so many good ones over the past year.
And that’s another fight night routine of mine—no shirt. No matter the temperature. Even tonight when it’s in the fifties. I can’t have any fabric restricting me or give the other guy something to grab when I’m fighting.
* * *
The walk to the barn is uneventful. We found the trail marker and followed the breadcrumbs of drunken teenagers along the way. Easiest directions ever.
Just under ten minutes later, we hear music thumping before we fully break through the trees. As we enter the clearing, the old barn comes into view. The unobstructed moon illuminates the washed-out gray wood and missing panels. The roof looks intact, so it should at least be dry inside.
We hastily cross the field of dead grass and get a better glimpse inside. The large barn doors are wide open, and it looks like a fucking rave in there. Shadow people adorned with glow sticks jump around to the music as free-standing strobe lights flash chaotically.
What the fuck kind of rich kid shit is this?
Either way, I’m bouncing on my toes, ready to get in there and get warmed up.
We run around to the back entrance to check in with Gus. He’s leaning against the side of the barn, thick arms folded across his chest. He, like most of us here, is dressed in head-to-toe black. I walk over and dap him up, excited to get in there.
He side-eyes Linc for a beat but doesn’t say anything. I know he’s probably wondering what he’s doing here and who he’s going to stand with while I fight, but I have it covered. Linc’s gonna be my cornerman. I just haven’t asked him yet.
“Your opponent’s already here—”
I snort at him calling Connor myopponent, accidentally cutting him off.
He narrows his eyes at me. “He’s already here, in the far left corner of the barn. You stay to the right. I’ll cut the music five minutes before, and then it’s showtime. Yours is the only fight tonight. These Pisgah kids just like to party.”
“Got it. See ya in there, dude. Need to get in the zone.”
I grab Linc’s wrist, not even thinking that we’re standing in front of Gus. I just don’t want to lose him once we step inside.
Gus’s dark eyes bore into me as if he wants to say something. Ask something. But I don’t give him a chance. I swing the small wooden door open and tug Linc in after me. It’s dark and cramped enough that no one notices when I slip my grasp to his hand and hold tight.
The entire place buzzes with enthusiasm. It’s crammed with kids from the academy field trip and the local public school in town. Bodies grind against each other and jump to the beat. We weave through the pulsing crowd until it dwindles down the closer we get to our corner.
I release Linc’s hand before we get there and glance across to the other side to see if I can spot Connor in the darkness. There’s enough light in here to see the nasty sneer on his face. And the thing is, it’s not even directed at me. I follow his evil stare to the incredible boy next to me.
I pull my hoodie over my head in one smooth move, the heat from all the writhing bodies warming the place considerably. I step directly in front of Lincoln and glare right back, letting Connor see every muscle that’s about to fuck him up.
We’re pretty evenly matched. He may be an inch or two taller, but I know I have the fighter’s edge. He’s just a footballer whothinkshe can fight.
I turn my back to him and face Lincoln. He hasn’t really said a word. He’s taking it all in silently, eyes darting around, cataloging everything. From what I know, he’s lived a pretty sheltered life, so this is all new. Hopefully, he doesn’t see me differently after. Guess it’s better he knows the truth now rather than later.
“Hey, Linc. You mind holding my hoodie and phone?” He shakes his head no, and I hand the items over. The strobes flash around us, lighting up the little flecks of amber in his single green eye. The other is so dark that I can’t see anything but my own reflection. I still can’t get over the otherworldly quality of his stare. I could get lost in it all night.
I tear my gaze from him before I become distracted and run through some basic stretches. I keep an eye on Connor, Linc, and the rest of the room. I don’t like not knowing anyone here.
I lean in to speak into Linc’s ear. “I need a cornerman, and since you’re here, Preppy, it’s gotta be you.”
“A cornerman?”
