conversation. “But everyone can sense the shit between you two.”
“There is no shit,” I insist.
Jake’s dark eyes shoot down to me. I look away. “Bullshit.” I stiffen. “Anyone with eyeballs can see the tension between you and Dean Carter. He’s all but declared you his—something he’s never done before. And if you’re the type of girl I think you are, then you need to be real with me. You know it. Otherwise, you never would’ve used him as a threat to make me help you get here.”
I inhale sharply and grit my teeth, hating that he’s right. “Dean Carter,” I start, feeling the venom on my tongue, “is an asshole.”
Jake rolls his eyes. “That is nothing new,” he states.
“Yeah, well, I’m new here. His level of assholery is still fresh to me.”
“Does that mean you’re not going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Depends…” I let the word slide off my tongue as I scan the crowd, searching for a mass of people all circling one person. That’s where I’ll find the bookie.
“On what?” he presses.
“On if you can keep your trap shut and stop handing out any and all information I give you.”
There. Across the room, a small head bobs up and down as people thrust cash out at him. I stand up. “I’ll keep it a secret,” Jake blurts. I jerk and look down with a frown.
I consider it for a moment, debating and searching for any source of weakness in the information I possess. Pursing my lips, I glance back to the bookie before returning my focus to Jake. “There’s nothing going on between us,” I finally say. “Dean Carter is an enemy as far as I’m concerned. He staked a claim to prove a point. One that I do not like. So far, though, they’ve left me alone. As long as they continue to do so”—I step over one long bench and then completely off the bleachers—“I’ll let them keep their thrones,” I finish with a grin before turning around and disappearing into the crowd.
It’s hot. Ungodly so, but after a quick conversation with the bookie to see who’s lined up on the docket—not that I would recognize any of the names, but it’s nice to familiarize oneself with the competition—I head back to Jake. Cutting my way through the crowd sideways, I avoid wandering hands and shove those who get too close.
A familiar tingle of excitement hits me in my core. A hungry monster making herself known. Which is the very reason I’m here tonight. I’m so exuberant that I don’t even turn around and punch a guy in the face when he knocks into me and turns, cursing low beneath his breath. Doesn’t matter. I’ll get all this juice out one way or another tonight. I find Jake in the same place I left him with his phone in his hand and a frown on his face.
“Back,” I say, popping a squat on the bench next to him and making him jump.
He slides his phone back into his pocket quickly—I narrow my eyes … too quickly. “Where’d you go?” he demands.
“Bookie,” I say, nodding back the way I’d come.
His head turns and I drop mine to the outline of the phone in his pocket, but as he shoves his hands into them, I scowl. There’s no way I’ll be getting it to find out what the hell he’s hiding. And I know he’s hiding something. No one would jump like that if they weren’t guilty of something.
“You should’ve told me,” he says when he glances back at me. “I could’ve introduced you. Could’ve given you a better layout of who you should bet on.”
“Not to worry.” I shake my head. “I have it figured out.”
“You do?”
Before I can reply, the lights dim and the crowd charges towards the cage as someone steps inside and a spotlight slowly comes to rest over him. It’s the bookie—Danger, he’d introduced himself as earlier. He tosses back his ginger mane and though he’s a skinny looking fucker, he’s got tattoos etched across his knuckles as he fists pumps the air and brings a microphone to his lips.
“Lords and Ladies,” he shouts, “are you people ready to see some bloodshed?” The crowd roars back and he chuckles, the sound deep and amused. “Well, then you’ve come to the right place. My name is Hanson Reed and I'll be your host for this evening."
I grin, standing up as I strip off my t-shirt. Jake's eyes widen when I reveal my sports