Page 100 of Keep Your Guard Up
And when a reply failed to come, I left.
Chapter 56
Chance
What JJ had spoken about the entire drive into Darlington Harbour, I couldn’t even say. I couldn’t even describe the plain chicken breast I’d had for breakfast this morning, or how good the third litre of water I had in my hand felt going down.
I hadn’t spoken to Sunny since that night outside the abandoned barn. I felt empty, like a piece of rubbish rolling around in the wind. And part of that had nothing to do with the scarcity of sugar and energy in my body.
I was three days out from the biggest fight of my life, and all I could think about washer.
Mari.
Sunny.
Her.
Instead, I was standing with Al, my best friend, and the human embodiment of evil. She always insisted on being in as much of my press as possible, feeding me lines to thank her for and everything. Right now, I couldn’t even argue. I couldn’t even remember the fucking things she wanted me to say. I felt so wobbly, so full of nothing. Every breath of air felt thick and heavy.
“Y’okay, buddy?” JJ asked.
“Yeah, mate,” I replied, looking over my shoulder to Talia fixing her makeup with the stupidly expensive gold compact she bought from my first ever cash purse from the UFL. “Sunny here?”
“She’s out with Marilyn and Paige.”
“Paige?” I asked. The more I could ask to keep JJ talking, the less I had to. And—the less chance Talia would come and interrupt. She and JJ had had … confrontations before. She wouldn’t dare try anything here where someone could be pointing a camera towards her.
“She does a lot of the gym’s photography and videography. You’ll know her when you see her.”
I doubted my eyes would be searching for her in a crowd.
“Dylan?”
“One of the seccies just came and checked he was part of our party, so he’ll be here soo—speak of the devil.”
“How we doin’, boys?” Dylan towered me by about two inches, but I was the bigger of us two.
Well, not right now. Right now, I was a plastic bag blown up with two puffs of air.
“Fucking fantastic, D-dog!” JJ cheered, launching himself at my brother. “Good to see you again!”
“JJ,” he said, patting him on the back to signal him to let go.
“JJ,” he said again.
“J!” I snapped, whacking him on the back. He dropped immediately.
“Ow! The fuck was that for?!” he whined, rubbing his back. “Thank god you’re here, Dylan. He’s been so cranky.”
“Gee, I wonder why,” my brother said before turning to me.
“Chance!” a feminine voice called.
A glance over my shoulder told me it was the chick from Knock’s who was always running around with a big, red camera in her hands. Clutching a phone in one hand and her camera in the other, her hands had those same triangles, circles, and diamonds on them.
But that one glance couldn’t tell me why my brother had gone as rigid as a rock beside me.
“Sorry to bother!” she chirped, slowing to a stop in front of me. “Mind if I get some pre-face-off photos?” She beamed a full-face smile before running an inked hand through her hair.
