Bright Like Midnight: Chapter 8

my bodyguards for the evening. They didn’t have to worry about me running away. First, I couldn’t get very far in heels. Second, and more importantly, the crowd was downright scary. Ninety-percent men, they leaked testosterone like a dripping faucet. The few women I saw were perched on the lap of one of the leaky men, boobs out, legs long, hair blonde, makeup sultry. I was thinking this was just another place I didn’t fit in, then Julien pushed me into a chair in the front row before taking his seat beside mine.

“Can I keep my eyes closed the whole time?” I asked.

Marco leaned into my other side. “Nah. Amir wants you watching.”

“Why?”

Marco’s dark-brown eyes beat into mine. Every time I thought I’d worn him down, his guard went back up, and it was like we were complete strangers all over again. Granted, I barely knew anything about him other than he was an English major and really liked my lemon bars, but sometimes he cracked and grinned at me, and I wondered if we could be something like friends. His steely walls never stayed down for long, though. And they were high as ever tonight.

“Do pets get to ask questions? Your owner wants you to watch, so you watch,” he intoned, then flicked his attention to his cell.

Properly put in my place, I took in my surroundings from beneath my lashes, careful not to make eye contact with anyone. I landed on Reno on the other side of the ring, one girl in his lap, another hanging off his shoulder. Two very large men in black suits flanked him, and from their somber expressions, I wondered if they’d ever smiled a day in their lives.

Reno glanced my way just as I was studying him. When he caught me, his mouth lifted into a smarmy little smile, then he licked his bottom lip and winked. I held in my shudder, tucked my hair behind my ear, and attempted to play it off like I hadn’t noticed him. Instinct told me I didn’t want Reno’s attention.

From my other side, Julien grazed my arm, drawing my gaze back to his. “He’s not going to get hurt. Not anything major, at least.”

My lips pursed. “And his opponent?”

His mouth twitched. “Not the same story for him. Never is. Are you actually worried about a stranger?”

“I’m not sure if worried is the right word. I just don’t think I’ll enjoy watching two men brutalize each other.” I tapped my foot on the concrete floor. “And from the front row, no less.”

Julien clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Yeah, I get that, baby girl. But Amir wanted you here, and since you’re his, this is where you’re going to be.”

I released a long exhale, accepting this was my fate. “I won’t like it, but I’ll be fine.” And I would. I’d faced worse than watching the man who’d held me hostage get pummeled—hopefully—or pummel someone else—less hopefully.

Amir’s fight was second on the docket. I closed my eyes through the first one, which didn’t last as long as I’d feared it would. But by the time one man was declared the winner, my stomach was in knots and I had to swallow again and again to stop myself from retching. The of violence made me ill. Flesh slapping flesh. Moans of pain, grunts of breath being forced out by angry fists. And at the end, the chilling snap of a bone breaking followed by an animalistic squeal I would never, ever unhear.

Julien had taken my trembling hand in his at some point during the fight. I clung hard to him, attempting to get my heartbeat under control. I abhorred violence. I always had. It came from my dad. My mom was the one who’d killed bugs for us while we hid.

Julien was still holding it when Amir came jogging out from between the stands, his arms raised above his head as the crowd stomped and cheered. There had to be a few hundred people here, but Amir’s gaze landed on me, and his midnight eyes hardened to steel when he saw where my hand was.

“Shit,” Julien muttered, quickly taking his hand off mine.

I wanted to tell Julien not to worry. I would explain to Amir about the bone breaking and my shaking hands, but Amir’s blatant fury had me in a choke hold. My throat closed in on itself, and not one sound would come out.

His opponent emerged next. He was similar in size to Amir, but older and more grizzled, with a flattened nose and tattoos that looked like they’d been done with a safety pin and ink from a ballpoint pen. For the first time, I was actually worried for Amir.

A girl with silky black hair, a tight pink minidress, and platform heels strutted up to Amir, leaned over the rope, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He glared at me while she touched him, rubbing his shoulders like she was his personal trainer warming him up for the fight. Then he whispered something in her ear, making her press her boobs to his back and smile bright.

Beside me, Marco shook his head. “Vanessa doesn’t give up.”

“It doesn’t look like he wants her to give up,” I blurted.

Marco turned to me, giving me a slow, amused grin. “Kitty’s got claws. Like that, Z.”

“I don’t have claws,” I murmured, doubting he heard me over the roar of the crowd. The referee had stepped in the middle of the ring, calling for Amir and his opponent to meet in the middle. Amir gave me a long, sharp look before turning his back and walking to bump taped-up fists with the other fighter.

My insides were in achy knots. I’d rather Amir throw away a thousand of my dinners than sit through this. I hated every second of it, and it was only going to get worse.

After the referee spoke to both men, he stepped back, and the fight began. I kept my eyes open but unfocused on the action until both Marco and Julien hissed. My eyes shot up to the ring. Amir was on his toes, dancing back from Grizzled, a trickle of blood coming from his eyebrow.

Oh no. I did not like that.

Marco leaned into me. “He’s going to want to hear you cheering, Z. I know you hate it, but you gotta let him hear that voice.”

“I don’t think I can,” I rasped.

He reached around me, gripping my nape hard. Walls up, Marco’s voice was even harder than his hold. “Yeah you can. Pets do as they’re told, don’t they?”

“Stop touching me, Marco.” I turned and met his eyes, giving him some of his hard back. “Don’t touch me.”

After a long beat, his hand fell away. “Raise that voice, Z, and I won’t have to touch you again.”

I turned back to the fight. Everything had changed. Amir was in charge now, sending Grizzled back to the ropes. He landed blow after blow on Grizzled’s sides and belly. The muscles in Amir’s back flexed and strained under his artful, athletic movements. He was so light on his feet, when Grizzled came after him, Amir dodged most of his hits easily.

I clapped for him first and quietly said his name. There was no way he heard me, but I couldn’t put any more power into it. I was too tense, too afraid, and nothing going on in front of me made me want to cheer.

But I felt Marco’s eyes on me and the pressure I was under. Amir was beating a man to a pulp, and for some reason, he needed my voice to encourage him to do it even harder.

My heart stopped when Grizzled seemed to have gotten a second wind. He came after Amir, landing a solid right hook to his jaw. Amir spun, and for a split second, our eyes connected.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled at him, because in that moment, I didn’t want him to lose. “Come on, Amir! You can do it!”

He only let Grizzled land one more punch before he began to systematically destroy him. Punching, punching, punching until Grizzled was bloody and wobbling. It was brutal, interminable, and breathtaking all at once. Amir’s golden skin shined with sweat, but he showed no sign of flagging. He bounced on his toes, jabbing, dodging Grizzled’s few feeble punches, and once more, took a split second to sweep his eyes over me.

Then he threw a punch that made Grizzled spin like a ballerina, making it clear this match was finished. The referee jumped back into the ring, speaking to Grizzled, perhaps asking him if he was done. He nodded, and the ref grabbed Amir’s hand, holding it in the air.

Marco and Julien jumped up, cheering at the top of their lungs, so I followed suit. Well, I didn’t cheer at the top of my lungs, but I yelled along with them, calling Amir’s name.

He looked right at me, sweat and blood mingling on his face and bare torso. His hair was even darker, and his expression was feral. Something stirred low in my belly, and this time, it wasn’t fear. I shouldn’t have found him attractive…well, ever, but especially not now. Not when he’d just viciously attacked another man, even if the other man had signed up for it. But dear god, there was something so primal about the way he’d fought and now stood victorious, his legs spread wide, his sleek chest rising and falling in rapid pants, that made me press my thighs together and stifle a whimper.

I swore he saw my reaction to him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off me, and there was something telling in the twitch of his lips as he stared. I was in his snare until Reno rushed the ring, taking his brother’s attention for himself.

Amir left the ring a minute or two later. Julien, Marco, and I followed. The door to his dressing room was open. Amir stood on the far side of the room, wiping his face with a white towel, leaving streaks of blood. When we entered, he only had eyes for me.

“Everyone out. Zadie, stay,” Amir growled.

The traitors who’d had my back during the fight were ghosts as soon as Amir had told them to vanish—another reminder Julien and Marco weren’t my friends. The click of the door shutting behind me served to drive the point home. They’d locked me in here with him.

He prowled toward me, hands flexing at his sides, something wild in his glare, like he was more animal than man. Heart hammering, I backed away until I hit wall. He kept coming until his bare chest was flush with mine. His hand came to my throat, ringing it in a firm circle.

“You were holding his hand.” He dipped down, touching his nose to mine. “What the fuck are you doing, Zadie? Why are you making me crazy?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Fuck what you mean.” His hand tightened, leaving me just enough room to suck in a breath. “I wanted to jump out of the ring and drag my best friend into it so I could beat the shit out of him. Because touched him.

let him hold your hand. And then…and then I hear your sweet voice yelling my name, and it’s all I can do not to kill that bitch so I can get to you. What the fuck are you doing, Zadie?”

Amir squeezed my throat harder as his mouth crashed into mine. When I gasped for air, he slid his tongue between my parted lips and licked me all over, owning me, claiming every inch with violent lashes.

My nails dug into his shoulders hard enough for him to let up on his grip. He continued his assault, his kisses anything but loving or passionate. This was his alternative to hitting me. His hard, unyielding mouth was my punishment.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong to deserve punishment, but my inner protests were weak. Because Amir’s mouth on mine made everything else fade.

His hands were just as furious, squeezing my breasts, my butt, my hips. Over my clothes first, then diving under, rolling my nipples between his fingers and shoving a hand down the back of my panties.

He tore his mouth from mine, panting hot breaths against my lips. “Down on your knees, little mama.”

“Wha—?” My mind was at war with itself. Desire and logic clashed with one another. I knew Amir’s mouth. He’d used it in a different way on me, a passionate, giving way. My body was remembering that and responding to him now, even though all he was doing was taking and passion had been replaced by violence.

“On your knees. Show me who you belong to.” He pressed on my shoulders until I was sinking down to the rough concrete floor. With his hand on the back of my head, he held me steady while he rubbed his clothed erection along my lips.

Feeling him like that was a cold bucket of water on my head. Panic clogged my throat. I didn’t want this. I wasn’t his. I didn’t want him in my mouth. Not this way. Not with concrete cutting into my skin through my jeans, dozens of people milling about just outside the thin door, and Amir too blind with anger and adrenaline to even know who I was.

I peered up at him, tears welling in my eyes. “No,” I whispered, pushing at his hips.

He rocked his erection against my lips again and held my face there for a long beat until he groaned. And I knew then I had to find my voice. I’d come to Amir for protection, not to be used and ruined. I wouldn’t let him take another piece after Drew had already taken so much.

“Amir,” I slapped at his stomach and shoved off him, falling back on my butt, “I don’t want this. I said no!”

I didn’t scream, but he heard me. He nearly leapt back from me as though I’d physically hurt him. His eyes were crazed as they swept over me huddled on the ground.

His head jerked to the door. “Get out, Zadie.” His tone was so low and threatening, it sent ice through my veins. “Get the fuck out of here right now.”

I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door, yanking it open and flinging myself into the hall. Julien was there, leaning against the opposite wall. My momentum sent me crashing into him. He held my arms, keeping me steady on my feet.

“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?” he soothed. “You okay?”

“I had to—” I bit my bottom lip to keep tears from flooding out and stop myself from saying what had gone down in that room. Julien wasn’t my friend. He was Amir’s. I had to keep telling myself that. “I’m fine. He’s just in a bad mood and isn’t so nice.”

“Well…” heels clicked behind me, causing me to turn, “I can always turn his mood around.”

Julien groaned at the pretty brunette in the pink dress pushing the door open. “Vanessa, Jesus, come on. Have some pride, dude.”

She winked at me over her shoulder. “You might not want to stand there, babes. My man tends to get loud.” Then she disappeared inside the room and closed the door behind her.

Spinning away from Julien, I fell against the wall next to him. He stroked the side of my hair in a way that told me if circumstances were different, he been my friend too.

“We’ll roll out soon,” he said.

“Sure.” As soon as Amir was finished with my replacement. “I never want to come here again.”

Julien held his hands up. “You’re gonna have to talk to him about that.”

I nodded, resigned, and suddenly achingly exhausted. “What a strange friendship, to have no power.”

He shifted so he was in front of me, peering down. “That’s bullshit. I have no say over what you and Amir agreed to. That’s your thing, and I’m not interfering. The rest, though? Nah, we’re equal. He knows if he tried to pull his dominance show on me, I’d piss on his bed and in his shoes to show him who the real king of the house is.”

I sputtered. “Like an angry cat?”

Julien cocked a crooked grin. “Exactly. Cats are fucking terrifying.”

A cacophony of crashes came from Amir’s dressing room. Seconds later, the door was flung open and he stormed out, stony faced, with a hoodie and track pants now on. He charged by us without pause. Julien and I turned to each other, then back to where Amir had disappeared.

“Yeah, we gotta go.” He raised his hand like he was going to touch me then dropped it. “Just stick by me, okay?”

Vanessa strode from the dressing room, a seriously pissed-off scowl on her pink, puffy lips. When she made eye contact with Julien, she flipped him off, then shot me a snarl before plowing her way down the hall in the opposite direction of Amir. Maybe she didn’t appreciate his treatment either.

“Come on, Z.” Julien pushed me ahead of him, keeping me there the whole way out of the warehouse. When we made it outside, he stepped away from me, giving me a wide berth like I was a leper.

Amir was leaning against the SUV Marco had driven us in, no one else around. They were all inside, watching the fights.

“Where’s Marco?” I asked.

Julien shrugged. “Probably placing some bets on the next fight. Unlike you, he likes to watch grown men beat each other bloody.”

Amir straightened as we approached, taking in the ridiculous distance Julien was keeping from me. Ignoring his foul expression, Julien clapped him on the shoulder and gave him a half hug.

“Nice job tonight, man. You had me worried for a second when Ishkov got in that jab to your temple at the beginning.”

Amir handed him the keys. “Reno wanted a show. I gave him a show. Let’s get out of here. I’m toast. Need a fucking drink then bed.”

The ride back to campus mostly consisted of Julien making jokes, Amir grunting, and me shrinking in the back seat, wishing I’d never thought of this brilliant plan in the first place. I had no idea how I’d thought it would go, but not this. Never like this.

Julien pulled up to the curb in front of my dorm, and I hopped out as soon as it stopped moving, calling my thanks over my shoulder. When I started for the stairs, Amir was there in front of me, his arms folded across his chest.

“You okay?” He was gruff about it, but the fact he was asking took me aback.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. “I’m fine.”

“I get jacked after fights. I had no business putting my hands on you.” His midnight eyes gleamed, but there was no apology there.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Okay.” He rocked back on his heels. “Go inside, Zadie.”

“Good night, Amir.”

It wasn’t until I was walking down the hall to my room that I finally took a full breath. I was okay. Amir had manhandled me and scared me, but he hadn’t hurt me. I was whole and unharmed. My lungs inflated a little more with each affirmation I told myself.

They shriveled to dust when I got to my door and there were flowers and a note waiting for me.

“No, no, no,” I hissed. “Not tonight.”

With shaking hands, I scooped up the folded paper and twin daisies, taking them inside. Given it was Saturday night, Elena was out making trouble somewhere, and Helen was off with Theo, so I was alone. And for once, I was relieved.

I shoved the flowers deep in the kitchen trash can and took the note to my room. My hands were still trembling when I unfolded it.

With a strangled sob, I tucked the note in my drawer and threw myself face down on my bed. Why? Why did I have to be the one he fixated on? Couldn’t he have found someone else?

I could’ve pinched myself for thinking that. I’d never want anyone else to go through what I did for the year Drew stalked me. These poems were child’s play compared to the cow’s heart speared with a kitchen knife he’d left on my doorstep. Or the time I’d tried to go on a date and he’d slashed the guy’s tires. It was nothing compared to him showing up on my porch over and over and over until my mom wanted to move, my dad, the hippy pacifist, looked into buying a gun, and I turned so far inward, it took me another year to open up again.

I refused to curl up like a scared animal again. That was why I was with Amir. That was why I’d go back, even after tonight. I might not be a scared animal, but I was his pet, and for better or worse, he wanted me, so he’d keep me safe.

had