Wait For You

Chapter 8: The Diamond In The Rough Pt II

𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐧 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

The noise is deafening. Manny told me this morning that his fans are freaking out because Remy's not leading the championship, and there seems to have been some serious demand for tickets tonight. As the last sixteen contenders unite, this is the first night Adonis will fight Scorpion, up to the final. Scorpion is in first place now, and my nerves are killing me.

"Hey," Manny says, nudging me gently forward as he walks up behind me. "Get the hell up there. The man will be looking for you."

Somehow I manage the impossible and both laugh and scowl. "He will not!"

His eyebrows shoot upward in apparent disbelief. "He fights his best when you watch him, and even Coach agrees. His testosterone jacks up like crazy in his lab work when he's in contact with you. Come on."

Hating the thrill that shoots like lightning through my veins, I quickly scuffle toward the ring and for my seat as I hear Scorpion introduced.

"Benny the Black Scoooooorpion!"

That's the odious man that goaded Adonis at the club, and I loathe him with such force, I instantly glare at everyone who cheers for him. I'm a couple of steps from reaching my seat, where I'm completely prepared to hold on to my pants—for this night is going to be brutal—when I see, across the ring and through Adonis's powerfully built legs, a face among the crowd.

The face is oval-shaped, and creamy-skinned, and it carries a pair of hazel eyes. Eyes similar, in color, to mine. Eyes that, last I knew, belonged to Nora.

My twenty-one-year-old sister.

Nora.

Nora who only recently sent a postcard from Australia. Nora whose hair has been painted blood red, instead of its normal soft brown. Nora has a big, black, ugly tattoo of a scorpion on her left cheekbone. Nora who looks lost and sick and the complete opposite of the lively girl I knew. For a moment, I'm standing in the middle of this wide hall, staring at her while telling myself, over and over, that this cannot possibly be Nora.

She looks bad.

She looks bad.

Like the life has been sucked out of her, and all that remains are fake red hair, skin, and bones.

She spots me, and my stomach sinks to my toes when I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that it's her. Recognition flares in her eyes, and her hand flies up to her mouth to cover it. "Eleanora," I gasp, and without thinking twice, I charge after her, shoving people aside as the bell for the fight chimes.

The multitude in the room erupts in cheers and screams, and my heart trots frantically inside my chest when Nora twists around and shoves through a throng of people in a sudden startling effort to get away from me. She's blending through the crowd, into the darkness, and I'm frantic as I scream, "Eleanora? Wait. Eleanora Avery Monroe!"

I can't believe she's running away. From me. I can't believe that all the traces of youth vanished from her once vibrant face.

My sister.

Whom I shared bedrooms with until I got my place.

I used to watch every version of Pride and Prejudice with me.

Suddenly the big, beefy man who'd been standing to her right grabs me and yanks me aside as I try to pass. "HEY BITCH, Stay the fuck away from her," he snarls.

Paralyzed in a mix of surprise and fear, I forget all my self-defense moves except the groin one. I shift my weight and land my knee up. "Let go of me."

He doubles over but doesn't release me. Instead, his hands clench convulsively on my arms. "You little bitch, you leave Scorpion's property alone," he hisses, and I think the wet splatter that just hit my cheek was his spit.

"She's not his property!" Fiercely, I struggle to pry free as I simultaneously rub my cheek on the sleeve of my blouse.

A fresh wave of booing and shouting erupts full force across the room as the announcer yells through the speakers, "The victor, Scorpion! Scooooooorpiooooooon! Adonis Creed has been disqualified from this round! Dis-qualified!"

Gasping, I struggle with renewed force. "No. No! Stop, let me go, I need to follow her." Fighting futilely to be released, I try twisting in his grip. "Let go, Donny, let go, please."

But as the angry crowd flocks around us, he clenches me tighter to him and ducks to my ear. "Not now, little firecracker." His voice is low and calm, but the warning instantly makes me stop squirming. Using one arm, he tucks me into his side and shoves us through the throng, his big body bulldozing us through the multitude.

A multitude that for the first time in my life, shouts insults in my face.

They claw me as we pass. "Bitch. It's your fault, you stupid bitch!"

My eyes widen in horror as I absorb the murderous faces of Adonis's fans, and I'm so startled I curl myself into his arms and let him usher me out without a single complaint. Manny, Duke, and Coach wait for us in the car.

"Fucking shit!" Coach starts as soon as the door slams shut behind us and the limo pulls into traffic.

"You're down to third. Third. Possibly fourth," Manny glumly informs him, handing him a t-shirt and sweatpants he usually wears after a match.

"You had this one down, D. You were training so fucking well you would have had his ass on a stick, man."

"I've got it, Coach, just relax." Adonis briskly shoves himself into his casual clothes without removing his boxing shorts, then he immediately pins me down to his side as if he thinks I'm going to fling myself out of the car.

He rubs his hand down my scratched arm as he calmly faces the three angry men before us, but I'm so agitated I squirm free and slide to the window, where I stare at all the faces spilling out of the club in search of Nora.

Added to my disappointment of having completely ruined Adonis's fight is an incredible sense of guilt for my sister. How could I not see my sister was in trouble? How could I have bought the bullshit she's been feeding us, through postcards, for an entire year?

"You're in the worst placement you've been in years, man, your concentration is shit!"

"Manny, I've fucking got it. I'm not screwing this up."

"I think Grace should stay in the hotel next fight," Duke mutters.

Adonis's laugh drips pure sarcasm. "Grace comes with me," he snaps back.

"Adonis..." Pete tries to reason.

When we reach the hotel, we're all in the same elevator, and I'm agitated as I watch the numbers climb slower than ever.