“It’s not important. The only thing I’m worried about is you.”

I leaned back to look up at him. “I can handle your temper tantrums.”

His eyes scanned my face for several moments before a small smile spread across his lips. “I don’t know why you put up with me, and I don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t.”

I could smell the mixture of cigarettes and mint on his breath, and I looked at his lips, my body reacting to how close we were. Travis’ expression changed and his breathing staggered — he had noticed, too.

He leaned in infinitesimally, and then we both jumped when his cell phone rang. He sighed, pulling it from his pocket.

“Yeah. Hoffman? Jesus…all right. That’ll be an easy grand. Jefferson?” He looked at me and winked. “We’ll be there.” He hung up and took my hand. “Come with me.” He pulled me down the hall. “That was Adam,” he said to Shepley. “Brady Hoffman will be at Jefferson in ninety minutes.”

Shepley nodded and stood up, digging his cell phone from his pocket. After a few moments, he repeated what Travis had told him into his phone, hung up, dialed again, and then repeated the information once more. He dialed another number as he shut his bedroom door behind him.

“Here we go,” America said, smiling. “We better freshen up!”

The air in the apartment was tense and buoyant at the same time. Travis seemed the least affected, slipping on his boots and a white tank top as if he were leaving to run an errand.

America led me down the hall to Travis’ bedroom and frowned. “You have to change, Abby. You can’t wear that to the fight.”

“I wore a freaking cardigan last time and you didn’t say anything!” I protested.

“I didn’t think you’d go last time. Here,” she threw clothes at me, “put this on.”

“I am not wearing this!”

“Let’s go!” Shepley called from the living room.

“Hurry up!” America snapped, running into Shepley’s room.

I pulled on the deep cut, yellow halter top and tight, low-rise jeans America had thrown at me, and then slipped on a pair of heels, raking a brush through my hair as I shuffled down the hall. America came out of her room with a short, green baby doll dress and matching heels, and when we rounded the corner, Travis and Shepley were standing at the door.

Travis’ mouth fell open. “Oh, hell no. Are you trying to get me killed? You’ve gotta change, Pidge.”

“What?” I asked, looking down.

America grabbed her hips. “She looks cute, Trav, leave her alone!”

Travis took my hand and led me down the hall. “Get a t-shirt on…and some sneakers. Something comfortable.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’ll be more worried about who’s looking at your tits in that shirt instead of Hoffman,” he said, stopping at his door.

“I thought you said you didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought?”

“That’s a different scenario, Pigeon.” Travis looked down at my chest and then up at me. “You can’t wear this to the fight, so please…just…please just change,” he stuttered, shoving me into the room and shutting me in.

“Travis!” I yelled. I kicked off my heels, and shoved my feet into my Converse. Then I wiggled out of my halter top, throwing it across the room. The first cotton shirt that touched my hands I yanked over my head, and then ran down the hall, standing in the doorway.

“Better?” I huffed, pulling my hair into a pony tail.

“Yes!” Travis said, relieved. “Let’s go!”

We raced to the parking lot. I jumped on the back of Travis’ motorcycle as he ripped the engine and peeled out, flying down the road to the college. I squeezed his middle in anticipation; the rushing to get out the door had sent adrenaline surging through my veins.

Travis drove over the curb, parking his motorcycle in the shadows behind the Jefferson Liberal Arts building. He pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, and then grabbed my hand, smiling as we snuck to the back of the building. He stopped at an open window near the ground.

My eyes widened with realization. “You’re joking.”

Travis smiled. “This is the VIP entrance. You should see how everyone else gets in.”

I shook my head as he worked his legs through, and then disappeared. I leaned down and called into oblivion, “Travis!”

“Down here, Pidge. Just come in feet first, I’ll catch you.”

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m jumping into the dark!”

“I’ll catch you! I promise! Now get your ass in here!”

I sighed, touching my forehead with my hand. “This is insane!”

I sat down, and then scooted forward until half of my body was dangling in the dark. I turned on my stomach, and pointed my toes, feeling for the floor. I waited for my feet to touch Travis’ hand, but I lost my grip, squealing when I fell backward. A pair of hands grabbed me, and I heard Travis’ voice in the darkness.

“You fall like a girl,” he chuckled.

He lowered my feet to the ground, and then pulled me further into the blackness. After a dozen steps, I could hear the familiar yelling of numbers and names, and then the room illuminated. A lantern sat in the corner, lighting the room just enough that I could make out Travis’ face.

“What are we doing?”

“Waiting. Adam has to run through his spiel before I go in.”

I fidgeted. “Should I wait here, or should I go in? Where do I go when the fight starts? Where’s Shep and Mare?”

“They went in the other way. Just follow me out, I’m not sending you into that shark pit without me. Stay by Adam, he’ll keep you from getting crushed. I can’t be looking out for you and throwing punches at the same time.”

“Crushed?”

“There’s going to be more people here tonight. Brady Hoffman is from State. They they have their own Circle there. It will be our crowd and their crowd, so the room’s gonna get crazy.”

“Are you nervous?” I asked.

He smiled, looking down at me. “No. You look a little nervous, though.”

“Maybe,” I admitted.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I won’t let him touch me. I won’t even let him get one in for his fans.”

“How are you going to manage that?”

He shrugged. “I usually let them get one in, to make it look fair.”

“You…? You let people hit you?”

“How much fun would it be if I just massacred someone and they never got a punch in? It’s not good for business, no one would bet against me.”

“What a load of crap,” I said, crossing my arms.

Travis raised an eyebrow. “You think I’m yankin’ your chain?”

“I find it hard to believe that you only get hit when you let them hit you.”

“Would you like to make a wager on that, Abby Abernathy?” he smiled, his eyes animated.

I smiled. “I’ll take that bet. I think he’ll get one in on you.”

“And if he doesn’t? What do I win?” he asked. I shrugged as the yelling on the other side of the wall grew to a roar. Adam greeted the crowd, and then went over the rules.

Travis’ mouth stretched into a wide grin. “If you win, I’ll go without sex for a month.” I raised an eyebrow and he smiled again. “But if I win, you have to stay with me for a month.”

“What? I’m staying with you, anyway! What kind of bet is that?” I shrieked over the noise.

“They fixed the boilers at Morgan today,” Travis smiled, winking.

A smug smile spread across my face as Adam called Travis’ name. “Anything is worth watching you try abstinence for a change.”

Travis kissed my cheek, and then walked out, standing tall. I followed behind, and when we crossed into the next room, I was startled by the number of people packed together in the small space. It was standing room only, but the shoving and shouting only amplified once we entered the room. Travis nodded in my direction, and then Adam’s hand was on my shoulders, pulling me to his side.

I leaned into Adam’s ear. “I’ve got two on Travis,” I said.

Adam’s eyebrows shot up as he watched me pull two Benjamin’s from my pocket. He held out his palm, and I slapped the bills into his hand.

“You’re not the Pollyanna I thought you were,” he said, giving me a once over.

Brady was at least a head taller than Travis, and I gulped when I saw them stand toe to toe. Brady was massive, twice Travis’ size and solid muscle. I couldn’t see Travis’ expression, but it was obvious that Brady was out for blood.

Adam pressed his lips against my ear. “You might want to plug your ears, kiddo.”

I cupped my hands on each side of my head, and Adam sounded the horn. Instead of attacking, Travis took a few steps back. Brady swung, and Travis dodged to the right. Brady swung again, and Travis ducked and side-stepped to the other side.

“What the hell? This ain’t a boxing match, Travis!” Adam yelled.

Travis landed a punch to Brady’s nose. The volume in the basement was deafening, then. Travis sank a left hook into Brady’s jaw, and my hands flew over my mouth when Brady attempted a few more punches, each one catching air. Brady fell against his entourage when Travis elbowed him in the face. Just when I thought it was almost over, Brady came out swinging again. Throw after throw, Brady couldn’t seem to keep up. Both men were covered in sweat, and I gasped when Brady missed another punch, slamming his hand into a cement pillar. When he folded over, cradling his fist beneath him, Travis went in for the kill.

He was relentless, first bringing his knee to Brady’s face, and then pummeling him over and over until Brady stumbled and hit the ground. The noise level boomed as Adam left my side to throw the red square on Brady’s bloodied face.