In Too Deep

Chapter 23

Logan creeps up behind me and MJ in the hall on Friday night.

“Fight club tonight,” he whispers between us.

“Sweet.” MJ grins.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll see,” Logan says, swishing my hair over my shoulder as he saunters away.

“Let’s go get ready.” MJ pulls me by the hand toward the stairs.

I don’t know what fight club is, or why it requires a push up bra and extra eyeliner, but I dutifully follow MJ’s lead. She’s no longer satisfied with me sitting on her bed watching while she does her make-up, instead, and after that first time I let her, we’ve graduated to her insisting on doing me up each time too. Even though I complain throughout the process, I find that I actually like the effect.

In between swipes of lip gloss, MJ explains, “The second year guys go down to the local Karate school and round up a bunch of guys. They bring them back here and basically throw down.”

She pulls back, studying her work before she runs her fingers through my hair, and spritzes me with hairspray.

“There are always cute boys here on fight club nights. Fun times await, my friend.”

“So what exactly is fight club?” I press my lips together, rubbing in the sticky lip gloss.

MJ changes into a tighter pair of jeans and I look away as her bare behind flashes me. “Did you ever hear of an old movie called Fight Club?”

I shake my head.

“In the movie these guys create a social club for fist fighting. Same concept. It’s practically a Wilbrook tradition now. They’ve been doing it for years.”

“So what they just beat the crap out of each other for fun?”

“Pretty much.”

I shudder involuntarily. “Do girls ever…participate?”

“I’ve only seen it once. They mud wrestled in white T-shirts after the guys hosed down the floor, turning the whole place into a giant mud pit.”

“Let me guess. Bria’s idea?”

“You’re catching on, Beckett.”

She puts her arm around my shoulders and we head down to dinner.

Once darkness falls, MJ and I follow the stream of people outside. I don’t know where we’re headed, but the excitement of fight club has invaded the atmosphere, turning everyone into giddy hooligans. We venture behind the school, heading across the wide expanse of grass to the barn in the distance.

“Won’t we get in trouble for having an event like this on school grounds?”

MJ pulls out a smoke, balancing it between her blood red lips. “We’re not on school grounds.”

“What do you mean?”

“The school sold this chunk of land and these out buildings a few years ago.” She steps under a broken down wire fence, holding it up for me to cross under.

“So we’re trespassing?”

“If you want to get technical about it.”

“Gee, that makes me feel so much better.”

“Just shut up and come on.” She pulls me by the sleeve behind her.

We reach a giant barn that looks like it’s on the verge of collapsing. The wood is rotting in more places than not and the moonlight streams in through the many nooks and crannies of the unstable structure.

Against my better judgment I follow MJ inside, crouching under a boarded up doorway.

The barn is one big open space, the ceiling crisscrossed with rough beams. A string of bare light bulbs hangs from the center of the ceiling. It’s more crowded inside the barn than I thought it’d be. And warmer too. People huddle together in groups talking. Both classes are here, along with about a dozen other faces I don’t recognize.

There are a few guys sparring in the corner to warm up. I spot Dane and Drake, the buff identical twins in my grade. They are both shirtless, taking jabs at each other. The atmosphere around us is sexy and dangerous, and unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

Once inside, I instantly lose MJ. She’s no doubt off to scope out the crowd. I’m sure she’ll resurface soon with a run-down of the karate hotties.

I spot Colt in the center of the fighting ring that’s been set up in the middle of the barn. He’s talking to a group of guys I don’t recognize. They must be from the karate school. He catches my eye and excuses himself from the group, heading my way.

Crap. I scan the barn, searching for MJ, not wanting to get sucked into a conversation with Colt after skipping his class earlier. But she’s nowhere to be found.

Colt walks up, shirtless, wearing dark jeans, looking like sex on a stick. Lord help me. “Hey Beckett.” His deep voice rolls over me.

“Mr. Palmer.”

He rolls his eyes.

“So what are you doing out here?” He leans against the wall next to me. “This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

I continue watching the crowd in front of us, which takes a massive amount of concentration with him so close, and did I mention shirtless? “How do you know what my scene is?”

He nods. “Fair.”

I’m torn between blowing him off completely and apologizing for skipping class. My manners win out. “Sorry about missing class.”

“It’s cool. Just don’t make a habit of it.” He takes a swig of his beer. “Otherwise I’ll have to start acting like an actual teacher and that’ll just piss me off.”

“Taylor!” MJ shouts. “There you are.” She walks over to Colt and I like I was the one that deserted her.

“You gotta hit this.” She holds out a silver flask.

“What’s in it?” I can’t believe everyone is blatantly drinking in front of Colt. But then again, I remember that he’s underage too and has a bottle of beer dangling from his hand. I sniff the flask. “It smells like puke.”

She grabs it and wipes the opening with the hem of her shirt. “Oh, that’s just because Sara puked and then took a swig.”

“I’ll pass.”

She shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

Colt laughs softly under his breath, watching MJ stalk away. “Everything turn out okay with your…female issues?” he asks once she’s gone.

“Oh, that. Yeah, it…turned out to be nothing. I guess I’m just overly cautious.”

He nods, smiling. “Nothing wrong with that. I appreciate a lady who takes care of things.” His eyes linger on me, giving me the urge to push my knees together. But I stand my ground. “Seriously, though,” he continues, looking more concerned than necessary. “I’m glad to hear everything’s okay.”

I laugh out loud, despite my best efforts at being polite. “Oh no.” I wag my finger at him. “You need not worry yourself over such matters.”

“Touché.” He tips his beer to me, then drains the rest of the bottle.

“You looked like you came over here with a purpose. Are we still on for defense lessons in the morning?” As much as I complain about him, I’d be crushed if Colt didn’t want to train me anymore. It’s a sick reaction that I don’t even want to examine.

“Of course.”

He turns to face me and I can’t help but allow myself to sneak a peek. His lean, toned abs and chest are quite simply edible. I can literally see each hard muscle on his body they are so well defined and his hair is a tousled mess. He looks like he could have rolled out of bed with that hair – and probably did. And I find myself wondering which girl he was with this time.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He smirks at my visual inspection, clearly loving the attention.

Crap. I pull my eyes back up to his and frown. I can’t regard him as coolly as I want when my eyes are glued to his bare chest. I turn away and look out across the barn. “About what?” I manage to sound uninterested and aloof. I mentally high-five myself.

“You,” he says with complete confidence.

I laugh. “I’m too smart to be seduced by you, Colt.”

“We’ll see.”

My stomach twists in a knot and I blush feverishly. Is he remembering that kiss like I am?

He chuckles, then steps into within my line of sight once again. “Do I make you nervous?”

I scoff. “No.” My body screams yes!

He chuckles again, clearly not believing me. I know the pulse jumping in my neck and my pink flushed cheeks are a dead giveaway. Stupid hormones.

I get the feeling we’re being watched and spot a few girls from across the barn eyeing me. They assess me with casual annoyance. When they whisper to one another, I can imagine they are wondering what he sees in me. I’m just as clueless. Everything about Colt draws attention, from his looks to his confidence, even the way he moves. Everything about me doesn’t.

I curl my hands into fists and turn to him, standing mere inches from his face. “I know it’s hard to believe –with your over inflated ego and all – but not every girl likes you, okay?”

He laughs again. “We’ll see.”

I roll my eyes. “Bye Colt.” I turn and walk away.

I make my way over to Logan and MJ, my heart still pounding in anger at Colt. My reactions to him are strange. I know I shouldn’t let him get to me like that, but I’m finding it increasingly difficult to be around him.

We watch the guys who are fighting tonight huddle in the corner. I turn to Logan. “You don’t participate?”

“Fuck that.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t subscribe to their testosterone fueled display of masculinity. It’s like, boys, why don’t we just get out a ruler and see who’s the bigger man.”

I flush at his rant. “Oh-kay then.”

I sit down next to Logan and MJ on stacked hay bales that line the center of the barn, giving the fighters a wide berth. We watch the guys in the corner as the others take seats all around us. Colt stands over with the fighters. My stomach plummets.

“Colt’s fighting tonight?” I ask.

“He’s the main event.” MJ says.

Oh.

I watch Colt as he prepares for his fight, and allow myself a more thorough inspection of his body. Everyone’s eyeing the fighters, taking bets, talking about height differences, weight, so it’s only natural that I should inspect the goods too. In the moonlight streaming in through the slats in the barn, I admire his broad shoulders and sculpted pecs leading down to six-pack abs and lean hips. To put it mildly, he won the genetic lottery.

Pete, wearing his trademark cape once again, steps forward shushing the crowd. “Ladies and fuckwads, gather round.” He stands before us grinning. “We’ll have four rounds tonight, announced by the lovely Bria.”

Hoots and hollers from the guys erupt as Bria steps forward holding a cardboard sign that says Round 1 written in black marker. She’s in a denim skirt so short, I think I just caught a glimpse of her butt cheek, a skin-tight white tank and a straw cowgirl hat. She struts around in front of us, making sure everyone has seen both the sign, and everything she has to offer.

“Tonight’s match-ups will feature Dane versus…” Pete leans to the stocky guy next to him. “Paul.”

Our little crowd cheers for Dane, and the people from the karate school cheer on Paul.

Pete introduces the rest of the fighters, pairing up first and second years from Wilbrook against guys from the karate school.

Finally he ushers Colt forward. When I see his opponent, doubt rumbles through me. Colt will be fighting the biggest guy here. Jose. He looks to be in his early twenties, solid muscle and a mean glare on his face. My stomach twists with nerves. I’ve never sat and watched people fight for fun before. And suddenly I’m worried for Colt. I might have been nicer to him earlier if I knew he was fighting tonight.

Pete gives everyone a few more minutes. Money exchanges hands, bets are placed and alcohol continues to be distributed. I stay away from the puke-smelling flask, but do allow myself a few sips as various bottles are passed to try and ease my nerves.

Pete goes over the rules. The fight is over when someone taps out or passes out. My stomach clenches.

When the first match starts, people are on their feet, cheering and screaming. Dane and Paul circle each other at first, neither ready to make the first move. But then Paul lunges at him, knocking him to the ground where they wrestle, fists flying. This is nothing like our fights in our self-defense class. Blood and sweat drip from their bodies onto the straw floor.

Dane ends up tapping out when Paul bends his arm back at the shoulder.

Whoa, that was intense.

Drake, another first year fights next and also loses his match. But no one seems all that surprised that the first years lost. They’re not nearly as experienced as the guys from the karate school.

The next match up, with the second-year I don’t know named Matt is over quickly, and he’s the winner after a knock out, which is tough to watch.

There’s a fifteen minute break in the action before Colt’s fight – the main event. The twins in my grade who fought, Dane and Drake are bloody and bruised as they make their way over to sit near us, taking deep pulls from each bottle that’s passed.

Colt stands alone in the corner, his face is serious and his jaw set firm. His opponent paces on the other side of the barn. Jose is bigger, both in height and weight, but some still think Colt is unbeatable. Bets are being placed all around me, and I find myself more interested than I should be, on the edge of my seat waiting for the fight to start. I remember the way Colt efficiently handled Lars, choking him into unconsciousness and fight off a shiver that runs down my spine.

Bria struts in front of us with the Round 4 sign, wagging her hips and capturing the attention of every male in the place. She’s eating this up.

Pete thanks her and she finally ends her little show. People start chanting Colt’s name and he steps forward. Colt. Colt. Colt. I don’t join them, but I repeat it in my head.

Jose is grinning, standing solidly in the center of the ring. His size is intimidating and I’m suddenly worried for Colt. But I know he’s strong and fast. Still, I hold my breath in anticipation

Jose wastes no time, charging straight for Colt. He grabs Colt around the waist and hauls him back several steps. Colt twists his leg around Jose’s, forcing them to the ground. They roll together, tangled limbs, straw clinging to their sweaty skin as they struggle to free themselves.

Back on their feet, Jose lands a quick punch to Colt’s jaw. Colt steps back, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand, a slight grin on his lips. It’s like the punch didn’t hurt, it only pissed him off.

Colt fakes left, then pops Jose in the nose. He’s got crazy quick reflexes. He hits Jose again with a right hook that sends him staggering back several steps.

His next punch sends Jose to his knees, but Colt doesn’t let up. He clocks him again, sending a spray of red blood flying from his mouth. Jose falls flat to the ground and stays there.

The place erupts in cheers. Jose rolls over but doesn’t get up. Colt helps Jose to his feet as the crowd begins chanting his name again. Pete tries to lift Colt’s fist over his head, declaring him the winner, but Colt shrugs out of his grasp, and heads for the door. He seems pissed despite his victory.

Now that the fights are over, people scatter. Logan seems quite taken with one of the karate guy’s younger brothers, and MJ says there’s a girl who wants to get a piercing like the one she had. “You’ll be cool, right?”

I can make my way back to the school alone. It’s a massive stone building lit up on a hill, no way I couldn’t find it. The opening in the fence might be more difficult to locate, but I wasn’t going to worry about that just yet.

“Yeah, go.” I smile. “Have fun.”

“Ciao,” she calls, and happily saunters off to a dark corner to swap body-piercing stories.

I step out in the night air, it’s warm and lit brightly by a nearly full moon. I’m in no hurry to head back yet. My head is still swimming with mixed emotions.

I cross the grassy field, weaving around behind the barn to another smaller barn. I stop suddenly, realizing I’m not alone.

He’s sitting on the ground, leaned up against the side of the building, his head hung between his knees.

His head jerks up. It’s Colt.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t know anyone was out here.” I feel like I’ve interrupted something private, but I’m not sure what.

“The schools that way.” He tips his chin in the direction of the school, not bothering to make eye contact.

“Thanks for the tip,” I say sarcastically, turning to leave.

“Taylor? Hey, wait up.” He stands and comes closer.

I spin to face him, wondering what derogatory comment he’s got in store for me now.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “I was dick earlier. I’m sorry.”

I raise my eyebrows. How much did I have to drink? I must be imagining Colt’s apology.

He takes a step closer. “Forgive me?”

I nod, involuntarily.

We watch each other for few seconds in silence. The night air rustles the loose strands of hair against my neck. In the moonlight, I can see his lip is busted. “You’re bleeding.”

“No shit. I was just in a fight.” He wipes away a smear of red, which looks darker in the moonlight.

“I know, I saw it.”

“You watched?”

I nod. Of course I watched. I don’t point out that the entire school was there.

He takes a healthy swig of the amber-colored liquor, wincing as he wipes his mouth. “Fuck. That burns.”

“Sorry if I don’t have a lot of sympathy for you right now. You chose to get in that ring tonight.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “And what do you think they’d say if I didn’t?”

I study him for a second. I’d never considered that. He’s the martial arts instructor. Of course he had to fight at these stupid events – whether he wanted to or not. “Let me see.” I close the distance between us, and reach up, tilting his chin to get a better look. “That looks painful.”

“Nothing a little alcohol won’t fix. I’ve had much worse, trust me.” His tongue finds the cut and he winces just a bit.

I remember the soft way he took care of me when I was hurt. “Oh, quit with the tough guy act.” I take his hand. It’s big and rough with calluses and I can’t help but notice the contrast with mine. “Come with me. You need peroxide.”

He drops my hand and disappointment surges through me. “Hang on.” He goes back to where he was sitting and picks up his discarded T-shirt. He throws the shirt on over his head, disheveling his hair so it’s sticking up in all directions.

I stifle a laugh.

“What?”

I shake my head, wiping the smile from my face. How is it possible for his hair to be so messy, yet look so good?

“Want some?” He offers me the bottle.

I take it, and take a deep swig, long past thinking of him as a teacher.