Page 90 of Silent Damage

He ushers me to a bench where three shirtless men sit. “You’re fighting in the second match,” Tobias explains. “Rules are no shirts and no weapons. Just raw flesh.” He extends the ‘sh’ sound on flesh, and a prickling sensation races across my skin.

“Good luck.” He winks and walks off to take a seat.

With a deep breath, I take off my shirt and sit next to a guy who’s about my height and weight, but then my eyes land on the fucking mutant who sits at the end of the bench. He’s gotta be six feet seven inches and close to three hundred pounds. He spits continuously, like a camel, and there's a giant skull and crossbones tattooed on his stomach.

The tattoo is lame.

But he’s huge, and I can’t suppress the gnawing feeling that I’ve made a big mistake coming here tonight.

The room quiets down as a man walks to the center of the floor and announces, “Tonight! We shall welcome a new member into the HellCats.”

The audience cheers and whistles, several of them stomping their feet. “There will be three fights total. The winners of the first two will face off in the third match. The victor earns a spot in the HellCats.

I scan the audience, looking at the sea of black leather. I’m pretty sure every guy here is a member of the HellCats, and they all exude the same thing.

Power.

Something hardens inside me—the fear and self-doubt vanish, and all that remains is hunger.

This is what I want.

I want people to step aside and nod with respect when I walk into a room. To have that kind of impact on people—it’s gotta feel electric. I want to stand alongside the most revered gang in the Northeast and feel proud for a change.

I’m done being the poor, bruised piece of shit with a constant chip on his shoulder.

I want to feel the power in my bones.

As I scan the crowd, looking at the men who I hope to impress, my breath hitches.

Because who do I see sitting in the stands?

Gabe.

What the fuck?

His eyes are glued to me, wide and filled with horror.

Torren Kay sits beside him; I met him once or twice with Gabe on the train tracks before I left Belmont with Mom.

My gut clenches the moment he puts his arm around Gabe and leans in to say something.

But Gabe doesn’t react. His sight is set on me. Torren bumps into him, trying to get his attention, and Gabe reluctantly looks his way.

As Torren speaks, Gabe’s face softens. The fear in his expression vanishes, and a smile emerges.

Torren laughs about something, and Gabe covers his mouth, suppressing his own laugh.

He never speaks, but the expression on his face while he listens to Torren makes me seethe with jealousy.

Torren tousles Gabe’s hair—all cute and endearing—and continues talking.

Everything else in the room fades away as my gaze zeroes in on Gabe, looking the happiest I’ve seen him since coming back home.

Torren treats Gabe like he’s a little brother, and Gabe stares at him with stars in his eyes.

My fists clench.

Look away, Jason.