Page 95 of The Deceptions
"What's the story there?" Jordy asks, handing each of us a drink with a grin. I frown at the sight of the beer bottles, and Jordy offers me a discreet shrug, shoving it into my awaiting hand. Fuck. I hate beer so much. But it’s all these places seem to have. "Seems brutal." He cocks his head, watching the unconscious guy get carted off from the ring and taken through a door. Hopefully, to get checked out.
"Oh, don't worry about him. A whole team of medical students is back there, eager to put their hands on real patients." Simon grins, sipping his beer.
"Medical students? Jesus. What is this college?" Jordy quips, knocking back his beer and chugging it until it’s almost empty. "I'm going to need about fifty more of these."
I snort. "You're a lightweight. How about just one more?" I tease, knocking his shoulder.
"Speak for yourself, Liiverrrrr," he holds out my name, chuckling. "You should see this guy. He can barely hold down three drinks. If you don't watch him, he'll end up in the bathroom with some chick."
My cheeks heat at his words. Asshole. "Fucker," I grunt, punching him straight in the chest with all my might. He stumbles back, cackling at me and shaking his head. "I had a good time."
Speak of the devil himself. Shit. Shivers roll through me at the memory of our time together. Seems like a lifetime ago. But only a week has gone by since I was Olivia and he railed me in the bar bathroom.
Discreetly, I watch him saunter through the crowd—well, him and his shadow—Wilder. A single cigarette rests between his lips. They don’t greet anyone as they come to stand by the bar.
"Oh, Oli. You've got game, then," Simon chuckles, sipping his beer.
I shrug. A few men jump into the ring with black and white shirts, quickly cleaning it and dusting it off. I keep my eyes peeled, hoping my glasses record the events here.
"So, what happens now?" I eye the shifting crowd, moving closer to the ring, while some weave their way out, heading toward the bar. A few men head to a small table in the corner of the room, forming a line.
A desert forms in my mouth when Hux and Mack sit behind the table, talking to the men in front of them. I swallow a drink of my beer, grimacing at the bitter taste I hate. But it’s all they have and I’m trying to quench my thirst after seeing the two of them together. Their presence is overpowering, nearly knocking me back a few steps. One-on-one, I can take them in small doses without wanting to punch their noses. But together? The memories invade me more, taking me back to when we were all best friends playing in this very room.
"It depends on if they have more fights scheduled," Simon says, pulling me out of my thoughts. "But it looks like they're taking challenges right now. You know, where you have to fight if you're called out." He shakes his head.
"Have you ever been called out?" Jordy asks, downing the rest of his drink.
"No, thank the skies fucking above," Simon huffs, eyeing the ceiling with relief. "I'd probably be on the wall of shame and shamed out of parties. I'd run like my ass was on fire. Simon? Simon who?" he chortles, sipping his beer again. "The last place you ever want to be is in that ring."
I shiver at the thought. Getting called into the ring wouldn't be the worst-case scenario, but it wouldn't be good for me. Most of the men who get into the ring have removed their shirts and jeans, opting to fight in loose gym shorts and nothing else.
Jordy and Simon flirt uncontrollably with one another. I don't think I'll be the one hooking up with a guy in the damn bathroom. With the way Jordy is batting his eyelashes and moving in closer to Simon—I'm going to need earplugs tonight. Shit. I don't think I have any. I'll have to go to the store and...
"Oliver Davenport!"
Ringing forms in my ears, like I’m deep underwater. I can barely hear the crowd's murmurs as they look around withexcitement, waiting for Oliver to step forward and claim his fight. Their eyes peer around with anticipation.
Every muscle in my body coils tight.Run away. Go now! They’ll never know you were here.
"What the fuck," Simon gasps, looking at me slack-jawed.
"Oliver," Jordy hisses, shaking my shoulders and getting my attention. Looking deep into my eyes, he gestures toward the ring. "You've been summoned."
I rear back slightly. "No, wait. I..." Can't fucking fight these people. My throat closes as my heart spikes in my chest, beating a frantic tune to the panic swirling in my mind.
"You can say no," Simon whispers. "I won't hold it against you. We can hang out in the dorm, eat chocolates, and emerge in a month. Just no party tomorrow… or next weekend. Or..." he huffs, slumping his shoulders.
"I..." I swallow hard when they call my name again.
"Please come to the back table!" Hux shouts impatiently while I internally freak out that I have to get in front of all these people and fight.
"You got this,"Jordy grunts, shoving me forward and wrapping an arm around my shoulders to help march me toward the gallows. At least, that’s what it feels like. He peeks over his shoulder as Simon obliviously follows us through the crowd. "I swear to God, Liv. Who did you piss off already?" he grits out angrily.
Oh, you know. Mack, Hux, and that fucker Brutus. The fucking kings of campus, apparently. This is just great.
I keep that to myself, though. The last thing I need is getting an earful from Jordy on how I should be lying low and making friends with them. Not enemies. Thanks, Dad. I don’t need that lecture when I’m internally freaking the fuck out.
"No one!" I hiss, shaking my head innocently. "This has disaster written all over it. What if they expect me to take off my shirt and..." My hands fall on my wrapped chest. I can't fight like this. I can’t take off my shirt.
