the fights happened on his properties. Then the fact that he owns them, coupled with the documents Harlow found and Drew’s statement, would be grounds enough to dig into his affairs further, search his properties and businesses.”
“Drew, are you sure Will is involved in organizing this shit?”
“Yeah.” He huffed. “It’s all on his phone. I’ve been watching him for a while, and I’ve noticed a few texts, other things that would prove it. They make everyone surrender their phones at the doors for the fights, but Will somehow always has his.”
“If Will was at the fight when the police showed up, would that be enough reason for them to check his phone?”
“Yeah.” Donna nodded. “Anyone caught participating in illegal activity would be searched and questioned.”
I blew out a big breath. “Then we make sure Will is there when the police bust up the fight.”
“How?” Drew asked, but Donna was already shaking her head, giving me a reproachful look.
“We give them what they want.”
“Dammit, Hendrix, no.” Donna shoved me, but her hands stayed on my chest. “I’m telling you all this to keep you safe, not so you can get yourself into a dangerous-as-fuck situation.”
I smirked at her, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “How’s it feel, princess?”
“It’s not the same.” She seethed. “After what you told me . . . you shouldn’t have to do this.”
Donna knew how abhorrent the idea of violence was to me now, and here I was, about to throw myself into an actual fighting pit. She was trying to look out for me, just as I’d been trying to look out for her all this time. Only difference was, she’d been doing stupid, dangerous shit as an escape. I was about to do some stupid, dangerous shit for a good cause. For her. To protect her.
I rubbed her upper arms and spoke in a low voice, ignoring the others. “Better me than anyone else. My soul is already black.”
She shook her head, her gaze pleading.
“You two done whispering sweet nothings over there?” Amaya barked.
I stepped away from Donna and fixed her sister with a look. “Get everything you have on Frydenberg ready to send to the police.”
She nodded, and I turned to Drew.
“Keep us updated on any changes, but don’t go to the next fight if you can avoid it. Just be ready to talk to the cops when it goes down.”
Another firm nod.
“The rest of you, we all need to pretend like nothing’s changed. Especially around Will. We should definitely not be seen together.”
“Also, don’t text or call each other about this,” Harlow rushed to add.
“I’ll get word to Donna when I have a date and location for the fight,” I said. “If I don’t check in twenty minutes after going in, that’s your confirmation Will’s there. That’s when you do all you can to get the cops there.”
“We’ll make it happen.” Turner looked determined.
“All right.” There was nothing left to say, so I turned to walk back to my house. The others moved in the opposite direction—to where the path led to another street.
“I’ll be home later,” Donna called, then caught up with me, pulling on my elbow. “Wait. Can we talk?”
I just kept walking. “There’s no other way, Donna. It’s late, and I haven’t slept in two days. I’m exhausted.”
“It’s not about that.” She kept pace, looping her arm through mine.
I slowed down and peered at her. Her expression looked uncertain—almost nervous. I wanted to pull her against me so badly, kiss her little nose, which was almost definitely frozen in this weather. But I had no idea where we stood. Not wanting me to get killed was a long way from actually wanting . . . whatever. I hadn’t even allowed myself to fully consider what I wanted from her.
But that look on her face . . . she didn’t look as though she wanted to lay into me or use me as a distraction. It looked like something else. Something more.
“OK,” I said, relenting. “But let’s get out of the cold.”
She nodded. Her hand slid down until it joined my hand in my pocket, and we threaded our fingers together.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hendrix
Donna and I were silent as we collected our phones, crossed the yard, and made our way up to my bedroom. I didn’t drop her hand until I was closing my bedroom door with a subdued click.
She was draping her coat over my desk chair when I turned around; I had to stop myself from rushing over to tidy up