Fury (New Adult Romance) - #1.5 Fierce Series (21 page)

“Hunter,” Leafy says, but I’m not listening. All I’m thinking about
is breaking this guy’s bones, one after another.

“Hunter!”

I bellow at the guy and punch him so hard he hits the floor with his
head. “I’ll kill you if you ever show your face to her again.”

I’m so fucking angry, I could snap his neck and rip his head off.

Leafy pulls my shirt, and I hesitantly let her drag me away from
him, but I can’t stand leaving him there without pounding on him. I don’t want
him to get away with it. Not this time. But when I turn around and look into
her eyes, seeing the hurt breaks me, and I know I have to stop before I scare
her even more. However, her face is red, her hair is wet, and she’s quivering.

“Did he hurt you?” I say, controlling my voice so I don’t shout.

“Hey!” There’s another voice.

Her eyes widen. “We gotta run!” She grabs my hand and drags me back
through the theatre. Some guard probably saw us, but I don’t fucking care. I
want to know if she’s okay. Especially after that motherfucker dared to show up
here. “No, I want to know if he touched you!”

We run through the doors, and she says, “Not now.”

When we’re outside I realize I just let that guy live. I turn toward
the wall and punch it hard. “Fuck!” I can’t believe I let him get away.

Leafy’s catching her breath, but still manages to scream, “Your
hand!”

Like that’s important. “It’ll heal.” What’s important right now is
her. I want to know what he did to her, so I grab her arm and turn her around,
pinning her against the wall. Now she’s forced to look at me. “Did. He. Hurt.
You?”

“What? No … No, he didn’t have the chance,” she stutters.

I snort, my teeth clenched together as I try to compose myself. “If
that guy EVER comes near you again, I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what? Pound in on him again?” she says. “You can’t keep
doing this, Hunter.”

To hell I can’t! I’ll kill that dude if I have to. Fuck, she sounds
just like my brother.

“I will NOT let them have their way with you,” I growl. “They
wouldn’t just rape you. They would kill you.” I know they would. I’ve seen it
with my own eyes what the gang does to girls that don’t listen to their wishes.
I’ve been there when my brother and I witnessed the parties, the drugged girls
getting abused by horndogs, then thrown into the gutter to rot. It’s
disgusting.

“You don’t know what those guys are capable of,” I say. She thinks
it’s better not to fight. She doesn’t know how the real world is. Where I come
from you kill or get killed. It’s as simple as that.

And I know those guys. Wes told me about the Bentley boys and what
they do if they don’t get what they want. I know they’re dangerous as fuck.
Threatening girls with rape is the least of their offenses.

Leafy purses her lips. “Oh, and you do? Is that what you’re trying
to say? Tell me, Hunter, what fucking thing are you involved in?”

Why is she so intent on finding out what I do? What’s in it for her?
This isn’t some game. This is business, and my brother will only get out if I
do as I’m told. It’s none of her concern. They’d use her if she knew, and I
want her, of all people, to stay safe.

“It’s none of your business.” I turn my head, because I don’t want
to look at her. I know she hates me for not telling, but it’s for her own good.

She grabs my chin and forces me to look at her. “It
is
my
business. If you’re involved with these guys then …”

“To hell I am,” I say. I will never,
ever
do business with
the Bentley boys again.

“Well, you made it my business the moment you stepped into my life
and tried to change me for whatever reason.”

That’s it. I snatch her wrist away from my face. “Is that what you
think I’m doing? Befriending you? Trying to change you?”

How can she think that’s what I’m doing? I’m not trying to change
her. I want her to change me. I want her to help me learn. I want her to teach
me how to be a better person. I want her to numb the pain, and I want her to
console me. I want her for myself. I’ve wanted her from the moment she set foot
on campus. She’s everything I ever wanted: sweet, smart, helpful, curious,
courageous at times, and a little feisty. Changing her is the exact opposite of
what I want. I don’t want her to become like me. Anything but that. That’s why
I stayed away. And now she thinks
that’s
what I want?

“You have no idea, do you?” I say.

She shakes her head, rubbing her lips together. If she only knew
what I felt for her …

“Of course you don’t,” I say.

She doesn’t, and it’s the best for both of us. She has no clue what
I’m going through, and if I told her that would only make it worse. But I will
not let her make me feel like shit because of it. I’m doing what I think is
right.

“You have no idea how fucking hard it is to do this. I don’t
want
to be in this shit, but I am, and I can’t change that,” I add.

“Yes you can! You can do everything. You’re Hunter Bane for crying
out loud! You’ll fight your way out of it.”

My eyes widen hearing her say that. It almost sounds as if she looks
up to me, which would be absurd. Who’d look up to someone fighting their way
through life? Maybe she sees more of me than I thought. Still, fighting won’t
get me out of this crap. Everyone always thinks I fight my way through
everything. That’s not all there is to it.

“You don’t have a fucking clue. You and everyone else on campus all
think you know what you see, but you don’t. What I do, I do for a reason. I
need to do it. There is no other way to …” I can’t get the words to roll across
my tongue. Saying it means she knows what happened, and I don’t want to pull
her into this more than I already have.

“To what?” she says softly.

Her voice makes me weak and vulnerable. I can’t keep ignoring the
truth. I can’t keep forcing it away. My brother is gone, and I need someone to
help me get through this. I need her. So I answer her question. Maybe she’ll
finally understand. “To save him. My brother.”

It tires me just to admit this. I close my eyes, resting my forehead
against the wall next to her. I let out a sigh and groan my anger and frustration
out. Suddenly her hand is on my back, and I feel fully regenerated. Her soft
fingers gently caress my back, spreading goose bumps all over my body. She’s so
tender and sweet, and it feels like she’s trying to mend my broken heart.

I lift my head and look at her, feeling the undeniable connection
between us grow stronger and stronger with every passing second. Even when I tell
her why I’m doing all of this, she still stays with me. Even in her fear, she
refuses to leave me. She’s stronger than I thought. Maybe she won’t leave me.
Maybe we could be together.

I’m so close to her, I can feel her breath on my chin. My lips part
as I watch her mouth, having the desire to press my lips against hers. I want
to feel closer to her. Holding her in my arms is not enough anymore. I need to
feel her against me, need the support she so willingly gives to me every time I
break down in front of her.

A creaking noise pull me back into reality, and I see a guard step
out of the theatre.

“You!” he yells.

“Shit!” Leafy mumbles.

I don’t waste another second, and I grab her hand and run.

 

 

Chapter
18

Cruelty of a Monster

 

We get onto campus, and my phone rings. I pick it up, and Leafy
stops and waits for me.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Jaret. Where’ve you been?”

“Out. Why?”

“I’m outside the fence. I’m here to pick you up. You have to come to
the club.”

“What, now?” I say, looking at Leafy, who’s frowning.

“Yes. There’s a party going on and Wes demands you’re there.”

I turn around so I can’t look at her anymore. I need to concentrate.

“You’re sure about this?” I whisper.

“Yes. If you want to make a good impression, now’s your chance.”

I sigh. “Hold on a sec.”

I turn around toward Leafy and say, “See you tomorrow?”

Her eyebrows lift and she looks confused, but she doesn’t object.
“Okay. See ya, I guess.” She waves, and I wave back as she walks to the dorm.

“What’s this party about? Will I have to sell drugs?”

“No, I think this is just for fun. Just get your ass over here
before they kick my ass for not watching yours.”

“All right, all right. I’m coming.” I hang up the phone immediately
and make my way to the parking lot where Jaret’s car is already waiting for me.

I get into the car and Jaret shifts the gear. “What were you doing
anyway?” he asks.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“If you want my help you need to start trusting me,” he says,
looking straight at me for a second before driving away.

I just grumble and look out the window. I’m hesitant with trusting
anyone, because all people have ever done is stab me in the back. It’s hard to
trust anyone in this world.

I stay silent the entire drive to the club house, anxiety building
inside me as we approach the building. I don’t know what to expect. Last time I
saw Wes he threatened me, so it’s not surprising I’m not looking forward to
seeing him. Not to mention the rest of those scumbags.

I bury my hands deep into my pockets as we get out of the car and
walk to the building. We go in the back entrance, down the flight of stairs,
and enter the club.

‘Army of Me’ by Björk is blaring through the speakers, but this time
it’s not just a party that’s going on. The bleachers are filled with hundreds
of people, and they’re shouting and screaming, watching two people break each
other’s bones in the cage. My gaze and body are drawn to the fight, like I need
to see them up close. Jaret’s still talking to the guard at the door, while I’m
already walking toward the cage. My eyes are drawn to the two men stumbling
their way toward each other, their faces botched and bruised, their bodies covered
in blood. They fall into each other like rotten trees tumbling toward the
ground. They’re dying. They’re physically dying. I can see it in their eyes;
they won’t last long in here. If either one of them doesn’t faint soon, they
won’t live to see the break of dawn.

I swallow. A sudden hand on my shoulder makes me choke on my own
spit.

“Jesus!” I shout, turning around to see Jaret’s face.

“Sorry, didn’t wanna scare you,” he says, chuckling.

“I was watching them. Don’t jump on me like that.”

“I’m not.” He frowns and comes to stand next to me. I turn my head
back to the cage, unable to look away. Drops of sweat roll down my forehead as
crippling fear builds up inside me. One day it’ll be me up there in that cage,
and I can only hope I’ll make it out alive.

“You shouldn’t look at this.”

“Why not? At least I’ll know what’s coming for me.”

“You’ll only make it harder on yourself. Just don’t think about it.”

“How can I not think about it, huh?” I shout, trying to get my voice
to reach above the music. “They threatened me, Jaret. I wouldn’t be surprised
if they made me fight to the death.”

“They won’t.” He buries his hands in his pockets.

“How do you know for sure?”

“Because I was in there, too.” He turns his head toward me. “
Every
rookie goes through this. Every single one of them. No exceptions.”

My mouth is half open as I hear him say that. I should’ve realized
he’s been in there as well. Although I can’t for the life of me picture him
fighting. Jaret was the weakest of us three. My brother once had to save his
ass because he tried to cheat his way out of a deal. Looking at him now I
realize how far he’s gone in this business.

“Let’s go, they’re waiting for us at the club,” he says, putting his
arm around my shoulder and dragging me with him, away from the cage.

We make our way ‘backstage’ where the rest of the dealers, the
distributors, and big shots are. It’s much livelier in the club now that
there’s a fight going on in the arena. All the couches are filled with people,
mostly girls, with one or two guys sitting in between them. When Wes spots me
he holds up his hand and signals for me to come. Crap.

Jaret and I walk over to him, and Jaret gives Wes a firm handshake
before sitting down next to one of the girls on the couch.

“Hey, Hunter, how are you, man?” Wes says, patting the couch. “Come
sit.”

I sit down beside one of the girls, feeling uncomfortable as hell
because she immediately starts petting my leg.

“I’m good,” I say, nodding, trying to make it come across as natural.

“I heard your trade with Jennifer went excellent.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Word travels fast.”

“Indeed it does. I’m glad you managed to pull yourself together.
Shows you got some balls between your legs after all.” Wes picks up a cigar a
girl generously offers to him, and she lights it while he puts it in his mouth.

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