There’s a faint resemblance to the cute guy I fell for my sophomore year: tall, dark hair, hazel eyes. He shaves his head now, his ears are a bit deformed from fighting and there’s a roughness to him, an edginess that wasn’t present when I first met him. Who knows, maybe the edginess always existed and I was too naive to notice.

Matt turns and heads to the front right corner of the cafeteria. Toward where the other Black Fire fighters sit and in the exact opposite direction of Kaden and Jax. Matt doesn’t look back to see if I follow because he knows I will. He controlled me then—even when there was blood on his hands and blood on mine. Any self-respect, any self-confidence I thought I had built disintegrates. He controls me now.

I can’t glance at my brother or cousin. My cheeks are on fire and I stare at my moving shoes. Six months ago, Jax and Kaden found me as a lump, alone in a garage at a party. My body shook, my teeth chattered and all I could think was that Matt was stronger than Jax and Kaden.

With my body still pounding with the proof, I lied. I protected what I loved—I protected Jax and Kaden, and then walked away from fighting. A decision I still bleed over.

With a few hushed words, the guys seated at Matt’s table disperse, leaving me and him somewhat alone in the crowded cafeteria. None of them make eye contact with me because each of them is fully aware that they had a hand in what happened. They’re the ones that pointed out Conner’s drug use to me. They’re the ones that begged me to talk to Matt because Matt wouldn’t see what was in front of him.

“He’ll listen to you, Haley. You’re the only one he listens to.”

Nope, he didn’t listen to me and I figured out quickly why no one else had the courage to speak badly about Conner to Matt. A right hook to the head is a great deterrent.

Matt crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t take to people hurting what’s mine.”

No, that job belongs solely to him.

Matt used to hold me in his arms. He’d caress my face, my body. I realized too late we were an inferno and that I had been chained to the stake. He touched me. He kissed me. He said words to me no one else ever had. He made me feel special.

After being with Matt, I don’t care if I ever feel special again.

“Because of what we were to each other,” he says, “I’m giving you a chance to explain.”

My toe nudges a spot of dried ketchup on the orange tiled floor. Telling him the truth enraged him last summer. Nothing since then has changed. He steps closer and cold sweat breaks out along my neck.

“I hated it when you wouldn’t talk to me,” he whispers. Once upon a time, he whispered the words “I love you” into my ear and I kissed him in return. Hurt and regret can slowly kill a person from the inside out.

“You have never wanted to hear what I’ve had to say,” I respond.

“Not true,” he says. “That’s not true.”

It is and somewhere deep inside he knows it.

“What did Conner tell you?” If it doesn’t damn me too bad, I’ll go with Conner’s version of the truth, because real truth doesn’t exist. There are only other people’s perceptions of reality.

He drops his arms and his shoulders sag. This is what snagged me initially to Matt: his ability to appear vulnerable when he’s physically anything but. “He came home all beat to hell and he said you were there and I know that can’t be true. You’d never cross me like that.”

The little liar actually told the truth for once. Where was the fib when I needed it? “Conner told you I did it?”

“He started to tell me what happened. Said you were there. Then he realized the guys were in the other room.”

“The guys” being the other fighters from Black Fire. He’d never admit to them what transpired between us. Matt continues, “When Conner wouldn’t talk, we drew the natural conclusion—Jax and/or Kaden jumped Conner. Out of respect for you, I kept everyone from going after your family that night.”

“Respect for me?” I echo.

A muscle under his eye jumps. “You covered for me once. Consider the debt paid.”

Tremors run down my spine. He’s never mentioned that night before. Just hearing him acknowledge it...

“Tell me who did it,” Matt says. “And we’ll take care of this in the cage.”

I wrap my hair into my fist. I don’t want Jax and Kaden paying for my sins, but they constantly go against guys from Black Fire at matches. Better the cage with a ref than on the street, with weapons, which has been my greatest fear. “What event?”

“No event or referee. Conner’s wrist is sprained. There’s no mercy rule on this.”

No mercy rule meaning no tournament. No public event with rules or referees. No ability to tap out if the fight becomes sick or demented or too much. A fight like this—it’s a street brawl and it could mean severe damage... It could mean death and it’s what I’ve been working desperately for months to avoid.

“No. Not happening.” I bite my tongue to keep from informing Matt that if Conner hadn’t tried to use my hair to drag me to the ground I wouldn’t have had to try to snap his wrist. What’s unreal is that if Matt looked at me, like really looked at me, he could see the bruises behind the makeup, he’d see my red knuckles, he’d see the truth, but Matt, like always...like most people, only sees what he wants.

“Then we go after both of them,” he threatens. “Hit them whenever and wherever we want.”