They have no idea the opposite thoughts plaguing us. How can I hurt this person? How can I hit them with the intent to do damage when all I want to do is hold them to me and keep them safe?
I don’t know how this is going to play out, but I know that the first time my knuckles connect with Brawler’s skin for real, I’ll lose a piece of myself.
That’s what the Heights takes from you. Your humanity. I see it in Johnny all the time. Little by little, piece-by-piece, it takes the part of you that makes you human. It either rips it from you completely or twists it into something you don’t recognize.
Hurting Brawler will do all this and more to me.
K wants a good fight, and he’ll get one. I just hope that afterward, Brawler and I can soothe one another. Forgive one another. Move on from this shit thing that’s just happened.
Because more than anything, I need us to.
“It’s settled then,” Big Daddy K says, his voice ringing with finality. “Brawler and Kyla fight Friday.”
18
This can’t be happening.
As Big Daddy K’s guests leave, I stay by Johnny. I track Brawler as he and Oscar walk out side-by-side. The upcoming conversation I’ll have with him won’t be fun. I’m angry. I’m hurt. I’m worried about everything happening at once.
Big Daddy K sees everyone out until the four of us are left over, me, Johnny, Mag, and the douche himself. Johnny threads his fingers through mine. He whispers, “You should go.”
I grind down on my teeth. There are a lot of things I need to be doing right now, but this is just as important as the others. Besides, K said he needed to speak with me. Unless that was just a dick measuring contest. A way to see if I’d stick it out in the room.
Johnny’s father moves into view. He prowls forward like a dangerous predator, his eyes on Johnny. “Out, Kyla.”
My back straightens. I can’t leave Johnny, I can’t. “I thought you needed to speak with me.”
“Another time,” K says through clenched teeth, gaze zeroed in on his son.
Johnny squeezes my fingers and lets them go, wiggling himself from my grip. “I thought I—”
“Go!” K roars, making me jump. His face turns a furious shade of red. “I will not be ignored.”
“Magnum,” Johnny pleads with his friend and bodyguard.
Magnum takes my shoulders, forcibly steering me from the room. I peek over my shoulder, watching the glaring match play out until I can’t see them anymore. The first crack of skin on skin whips through the room before the door is even shut behind us.
I turn, digging my heels in to go back, but Magnum has years of experience on me. He wraps his arms around me with a vise-like grip, speaking softly into my ear. “You won’t help. Johnny’s got this. He’s been dealing with this his whole life.”
Thankfully, no one else is in the hall as he carries me into the elevator, my feet just grazing the carpet at our feet. He presses the number for our floor briefly before returning his arms to me, holding me in place and soothing me at the same time.
“He hit him again,” I grind out, my mind flashing to all the terrible things K could be doing to Johnny right now. “He should put me in the ring with himself. I’ll kick his fucking ass.”
“I know you would,” Mag says, kissing my temple. He breathes, the hot breath stirring my hair. “You have to calm down. You have to go deal with Brawler right now. We need a plan. A fucking good plan.”
I go limp in Magnum’s arms until he doesn’t have to hold me back anymore, he has to hold me up. “Did you know he was doing that?”
Mag relaxes his grip only to stretch a soothing hand over my abdomen, making careful strokes of comfort. “No, I had no idea.”
I relax against him, placing my head against his shoulder. He gives my neck a chaste kiss, but it ends all too quickly. Right before the elevator opens, he props me up. I wobble on my feet, and he puts a steady hand against the small of my back until I regain composure in case anyone is hanging out in the hall who we wouldn’t want to see how comfortable we are with each other.
The doors open fully, and Oscar and Brawler appear in the hallway. I march out,