Uppercut Princess (The Heights Crew #1)(68)

The words start to bubble up from my chest, but I push them down. What good will admitting that I like any of these guys do me in the end? This is why I didn’t want to get mixed up in this.

“I think we should just focus on training.”

“Why? Because you want Oscar?” Every time he says it, his voice sounds so incredulous. Like how could I possibly want Oscar more than him.

“No!” I finally blurt out. I stand there wide-eyed. There are so many things I want to say to him. Like how, for the first time, there’s someone who cares about me for me. Not just because I’m the offspring of a relative. But someone who truly sees me and likes me for who they see. Someone that when I meant enough to them, they didn’t force what they wanted on me.

“I didn’t sleep sleep with Johnny.” I sigh for all the beating around the bush I’m doing. “I didn’t fuck him,” I say, making it plainly clear what I’m talking about.

“I know. You’re not allowed to.”

“I just wanted you to know.”

“Oscar?”

“I didn’t fuck him either. Why is this what we’re talking about?” I ask honestly. “Shouldn’t we be discussing fighting? Shouldn’t you be telling me the best way to beat Fonz’s people? Who do you think she’ll put me up against?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll talk about all that with you, but Christ, Kyla, I’ve been like a fucking zombie the past week. I can’t get it out of my head that you were lying next to him when I’m not allowed to, and I’m fucking sorry, but I’m not moving past this until I get answers.”

He’s got me trapped. My hands strain into fists at my sides. “What do you want from me then? You want to hear that I like you? You already fucking know the answer to that, Brawler. You also know we’re fucked if we do anything about it, so I don’t know why this is what we’re choosing to talk about.”

“Because through all the bullshit, this is what fucking matters!” Brawler roars. “Because if you tell me right now there’s something here, we’re leaving. We won’t have to worry about the fight, Kyla, because I’m not going through Crew shit if I don’t have to. They took everything from me. My brother, my sister, my mom just sits around the apartment. It’s only me.” He shakes his head. “This shit isn’t happening to me again. I came over here to tell you we’re leaving. I just need you to say the word.”

My heart cracks in two. “I can’t leave. I can’t.”

“Johnny?”

“Fuck Johnny,” I cry. I wipe my hands down my face, knowing I’m not entirely being honest either. “It’s not that. I can’t leave, and I can’t tell you why right now.” Leaving the Crew is one thing but telling someone I want to take out Big Daddy K is another. I can’t put that on them.

Hurt splinters Brawler’s deep blue eyes. “You don’t trust me. After all I’ve just said…”

“I do,” I say. “It’s just I can’t leave. I want to,” I tell him, pleading him with my heart, my body. “I just can’t right now. Please don’t ask me why. The less you know the better.”

Brawler’s silent. I’ve hurt him. I’ve cut him open and tossed his promises aside. I sound like a cold-hearted bitch, but that’s not it at all. At least, that’s not my intention.

He looks around like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps looking toward the door time and time again. Eventually, he’ll leave through it, and I won’t know if the same Brawler who just said all that will come back to me.

“I have to go,” he says, despair draping over his words. “Lock the door behind me. If you leave, call me or Oscar. Or Johnny,” he adds like he’s reconciled the fact that Johnny’s a part of my life now.

“Yeah,” I choke out. “Sure.”

He takes one last look at me then strides to the door. His heavy footsteps stop just outside, waiting for me to put the locks on. I do, and as soon as the last one is in place, his muffled footsteps shuffle down the hall back toward his place.

As soon as he leaves, I do him one better. I go into my room and put the lock on that door in place, too. Now, no one can get to me.

I throw myself on the bed and start to feel sorry for myself over everything that’s just happened, but then my gaze locks onto my secret hiding place. I sigh. It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to contact my aunt and uncle.

I stand, go to the shelf, and take it out. When I power it on, I find more than a few unanswered texts. Each newer one more worried than the last. Instead of sending a text in response, I call. My aunt’s phone rings and rings until it eventually goes to voicemail. “Hey… I’m okay,” I say. “Everything’s fine here. Just school and stuff. I hope you guys are doing well.” I take the phone away from my mouth and breathe out. I wish I could tell her everything. Why does the closest person to me still feel like they’re miles away? “Talk to you later. Bye.”

Everything I just said is a lie. I’m not okay. School’s a joke. Everything’s not fine.

I don’t expect anyone to sympathize with me though. I came here alone. I’ll do this on my own.





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