His fighting career. What’s going to happen with that? He’s giving up so much. This is going to be Oscar all over again. Dreams ripped out from under him because the priority isn’t about him anymore, it’s all the Crew.
The backs of my eyes physically hurt and burn with the fight to wrangle in the tears that threaten. I never wanted this for him. I’m sure he has some very thought out reason why this is a good move, but it’s not. Nothing he will say will make me change my mind.
“Well, you certainly look the part,” one of the businessmen boasts.
The table laughs, and it’s sickening. If they only know the reasoning behind his neck tattoos. The story that made me fall for him even more.
“If the table agrees, we’ll fast track him. He’s already been helping the Crew out, and he’s almost graduated anyway. We won’t stick him in the group of this year’s recruits. Show of hands?” Big Daddy K lifts an eyebrow.
Around the room, hands lift in the air like they’re giving the boy scout salute. I glare at Oscar when his hand rises. Next to me, Johnny’s opposite hand rises as well, and I almost crack a tooth.
K glances around the room but stops on me. I’m still sitting with my hands tucked under my thighs, so I don’t accidentally jump out of the chair and throttle anyone. “Kyla?”
“Yes?”
“If you’re at the table, you vote.”
Dread twists my insides. “Oh, I didn’t—”
He sighs angrily. “You’re practically my son’s wife and you’re sitting at the table. Vote, dammit. Yes or no?”
I dig my nails into the chair underneath me. Everyone else in the room has voted yes. If I don’t, they’re going to ask questions, and I can’t give them the true explanation. But voting yes is going to kill me. It won’t matter in the scheme of things because everyone else has voted yes. My vote technically doesn’t count, but my hand weighs a thousand pounds as I lift it into the air slowly.
My heart cracks open inside my chest. I can tell myself my vote didn’t count all I want, but it feels as if I just sent someone I cared about to his death.
I’ll never forgive myself for this. Never.
K’s head bobs. “Excellent. We’ll discuss your initiation tasks and get back to you, Brawler. If you complete those, you’ll be sworn in, but not before.” He gestures toward the end of the table where Oscar is sitting. “Why don’t you take a seat? The next business item deals with the fight ring, so it will be good to hear your opinion.”
Brawler walks around the table, head held high. He’s not wearing his usual clothes. He’s dressed in a polo shirt and khakis, and it’s difficult not to notice how damn good looking he is in them. The sleeves of the dark green polo hug his biceps, showing off how muscular he is. He looks like he’s come dressed for a job interview, which is exactly what this was, I guess. A job interview he never needed to have.
When he sits, he still doesn’t make eye contact. A chill goes through me. The last person who sat in that chair got their brains blown out. Coincidence? Probably not. We’ve signed Brawler’s death warrant.
Johnny squeezes my thigh, and I turn my attention to K again. From the back of the room, an elderly woman moves forward with a platter of fruit that she sets in the middle of the table. K’s gaze flicks from me to the platter, so I immediately reach out and grab a banana. A few of the other men around the table also take an offering. I force a few bites down because I don’t want to seem ungrateful even though I’m almost positive I’ll probably throw all this back up as soon as I leave here. I just hope I can wait that long.
“So, The Ring. As everyone else is aware, the Crew took a beating financially over the last several weeks. The fights stopped, as well as Candy’s. Those two were our moneymakers, and although the other businesses are great supplemental income for the organization,” he says, glancing toward the other guys in the room, “...it’s not enough to sustain us. We need to get the fights back up ASAP. I want Kyla headlining. The fight has to be good. Draw in the biggest crowds. I want that place packed and the audience begging for more.” He turns his gaze