I skipped town.
I jutted my thumb into the middle of the street and hitchhiked the hell away from Ameston, away from Killgrand, away from Alex and his stupid, glimmering smile.
I kept kissing strangers in their trucks, but Alex's lips still stained mine.
I kept slipping off wedding rings in the back seat, but Alex's hands still slipped so perfectly into mine.
I kept downing bottles of booze and scorching my lungs with cigarettes but Alex's face was burned into the back of skull.
The only way to get rid of him was to crack my head open and tear him out.
To do that, I needed a few good fights.
I'm not even sure what town I was in when I heard those magic words.
Fight club.
The bar smelled like sweat and blood and booze. Two or three girls in lingerie walked around, offering overpriced lap dances and "private time." The one I'd taken was named Allie. She's the one who mentioned it.
She lay breathless beside me, her pale pink hair draped across the dirty pillow. I stood and pulled my shirt back on, my body still burning with post-sex norepinephrine, serotonin, oxytocin, vasopressin, and nitric oxide.
Damn anatomy for making sure I knew that.
As I shimmied into my skinny jeans, the brass knuckles I kept in the breast pocket of my jacket clattered onto the floor.
Allie rolled onto her stomach, dropped her hand down, and picked them up, examining the blood staining them. "Are you part of the Whyte Serpant?"
I snatched the knuckles from her. "The what?"
"The fight club under Whyte's Bar?" Her bright green eyes sparkled as she tilted her head.
She looked like Jess in that light. I looked away.
"Who do I talk to to get in?"
Allie's smile sounded through her voice. "C'mere and maybe I'll tell you." She was sultry, tempting.
Getting rid of Alex was more tempting.
I turned to her, now on her back. I pushed my knee into her stomach and my elbow into her throat, watching those emerald eyes widen. My voice was scarcely more than a growl. "Who do I talk to?"
"S-Skerene." She gasped. "J-Jason Skerene."
I released her body to breath again, tucking the knuckles back into my jacket. I listened to her choke on air as I opened the door. "Good little slut."
YOU ARE READING
Wings
Teen Fiction"Pretty boy." "Princess." *** This world is full of wings. The more loved you are, the larger your wings grow to be. It's a status symbol. The larger the wings, the more you get out of life. Alexander's wings are huge and weighted. He gets what he w...
