Like You Hurt - Kaydence Snow Page 0,86

around, walk away, and never raise this with me again.”

The sly grin fell from his lips, and his eyes darted from side to side. Then he sighed and gave me the first genuine look I’d ever seen on his face. “Hey, man, I’m sorry. You said you’d think about it when I mentioned it last. I didn’t know you weren’t paying attention. The organizers just wanted me to put a little sweetener on top, extra money, bitches, that kind of thing. They really want you, man. They think your history would add an extra . . . element to the entertainment.”

They thought the fact I’d killed someone would make the fight more interesting—in case I did it again. Scum-sucking pond dwellers.

I looked over his shoulder and spotted a dark SUV parked a few cars down, the two hard-looking middle-aged motherfuckers inside not even hiding the fact they were watching us.

“What the fuck are you mixed up in, Shady?”

“It’s not my scene, man.” He leaned in even more, lowered his voice further. “You know how I said Davey’s is kind of a neutral ground? Well, I’m not the only one who hangs out there, if you get my drift? Not the only one who does business there. These guys who run the fights . . .” He sighed and shook his head. “I try to steer clear of them, but they noticed we hung out and . . . persuaded me to persuade you, if you know what I mean.” He shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Don’t worry about it, man. I’ll tell them you’re not interested. I’ll take care of it.”

I’d never seen Shady scared of anything. I knew he was into some dodgy-as-fuck stuff, that a lot of people were afraid of him, so the fact that he was doing someone else’s bidding . . . a cold dread settled in my stomach. For Shady and what kind of danger he was in. For Donna and what she was walking into every time she went there.

“Would it help if I made it clear I wasn’t interested?” I flicked my eyes over his shoulder so he knew I’d spotted our audience.

He watched me for a second, then gave a tiny nod.

I grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and shoved him back. “Never ask me that again! We’re done, you lowlife son of a bitch,” I bellowed.

He held his hands up and grinned at me, walking backward, then dropped a serious look onto his face before turning around.

I let the rage show on my face as I got into my car, slammed the door, and sped off as angrily as I could manage in an electric car that was whisper quiet.

The little bit of hope my conversation with Turner had given me—that not everyone would see me as a violent monster—was smashed to pieces, its jagged remnants left on the curb where I’d spoken with Shady.

As I parked the car and trudged into the house—my body sore from my punishing workout, my shoulders sagging from the crushing despair—I didn’t know what to think anymore. Which side of the fence would Donna land on once she calmed down? She had said nice things when I’d poured my heart out to her at the park, but did she mean them?

On top of that, the run-in with Shady had shaken me. I kept running over the entire day’s events, my mind twisting every single look, every single word, until I had no idea what was real anymore.

My aunt was on me before I even finished taking my shoes off.

“Hey.” She leaned against the archway leading to the kitchen, a steaming bowl in her hands. “Want some ramen while you tell me every single detail of your day?” She grinned, then slurped some noodles into her mouth.

I dropped my school bag and my gym bag to the floor and sagged against the wall, not even trying to hide the despair on my face.

Hannah’s eyes widened, and she abandoned the bowl on the kitchen island before rushing to my side. “Hendrix? What happened?”

So many things . . . but there was only one my mind couldn’t seem to stop obsessing over.

“I told someone what I did. All of it. I didn’t hold back.”

“And?”

“And she threw it back in my face.” It was so much more complicated than that, so much else had happened, but I was just so tired. I didn’t have the energy to explain it all.

“Oh, Hendrix.” She took

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