Page 8 of Savage Salvation

“Yeah. Same thing he said happened to his busted lip.” Cruz’s chuckle confirms he knows I’m lying, but he drops it. “Well, I’m glad he convinced you to play with us permanently.”

“I told him I’m not officially joining. Nothing’s permanent. I’ll fill in until y’all find a lead”—and until I don’t feel indebted to Isaac for footing my car repair bill—“but I can’t commit long term.”

“Damn it. I knew it was too good to be true. But we’ll take what we can get for as long as you’ll hang with us peons.”

“Psh. Whatever.” I’m the peon here. They associate me with Sacred Creed and all the rich kids because I attend there alongside Isaac.

A short time later, Isaac returns with a to-go carton in hand. Placing the container on the counter, he says, “Peace offering.” His playful, puppy dog eyes know I can’t be pissed at him for long. Especially when the mouthwatering smell of what I’m certain is my favorite burger from Radon Diner’s (which the locals insist should be officially renamed RD’s) is enticing me.

“Just don’t involve me in your dealings with Gage again. Ever.” Because the little history we have together is enough to make me want to stay far away from him.

“Won’t happen again.” He gives me his award-winning smile, even though it’s tarnished by the swollen lip he received this morning when he was defending me.

“Thanks, Isaac.” Cease fire. Because I don’t want to be mad at him. Especially because of Gage Hawthorne.

The guys get caught up in an animated conversation for a few minutes before they all get ready to head out. It’s closing time, so thankfully I can lock up after they leave.

“We’re heading to RD’s, want to tag along, Kinsley? Hang with us for a while?”

“Or you could come out to the field.” Isaac refers to the football field outside of Sacred Creed where everyone hangs out. Like I’d actually be at school any longer than need be.

“Nope. I’m gonna hang out here.” I wave around my favorite, serene Friday night hang-out spot. I plan to enjoy the rest of my supper before quickly falling asleep.

“Come on, Kins. It’s Friday. Tomorrow is your birthday, and we won’t be able to celebrate since we have the show,” Isaac pleads, but I won’t give in to his baby blues this time.

“Nope. It’s just another day. And really, playing is the ultimate way to celebrate.”

He seems less than happy with my response but doesn’t argue before making his way out of the store alongside the other guys. As I lock up, I watch them go their separate ways, heading off to a different ideal Friday night of their choosing. The empty store might seem like the least appealing option to them, but to me, it’s the greatest. Grabbing what’s left of my food, I head to the back, put on some music, and eventually drift off to sleep.

6

Gage

“Why are we here again?” Memphis looks around as he accepts the whisky filled lowball, same as the one I bring to my lips, pointing to the stage. Memphis focuses in on the band, realization finally dawning on him. “Ah. Bet legwork. Attending her show should soften her a tad.” He laughs because he knows as well as I do there’s no such thing as softening Kinsley.

I’d have better luck taming an actual lioness in the ring than the one on stage. I watch her, eyes closed, fingers picking the guitar along with a booming rock song that I assume is tricky to perform, but she looks more at peace and tranquil than I’ve ever seen her before.

“You realize you have a fight.” Memphis holds up his wrist and points to a nonexistent watch. “In like two hours? Maybe you should be, I don’t know, getting ready for that so you don’t get your ass beat down.”

“I’m ready.” For the match tonight, that is. The one I need a game plan for is the one on the stage. And it’s evident when her eyes open, quickly skimming over the crowd until they lock with mine. She doesn’t miss a note—at least, to my untrained ear, I don’t think she does. I know her fingers don’t stop moving, but the hatred on her face verifies that she sees me, and she’s furious that I’m here. Thanks, Isaac. At the rear of the stage, her friend sits behind the drums, performing away like he didn’t tell me precisely where to find her tonight and where she’ll be afterwards.

It’s on him to ensure she shows up at the fight tonight. And he knows not to back out. He knows his place in all of this.

“She’s fuming,” Memphis shouts over the music as he lifts his glass to his lips, downing the contents before motioning that he’s headed back to the bar. I shake off his offer for another. I need to keep my mind somewhat clear tonight. Especially since the pissed off guitar player is occupying more of my attention than I care to admit.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Fuck. Why is he here? Turning around, I spot Ryan with a similar furious glare fixated on me, but I know his is for an entirely different reason than Kinsley’s. Both warranted though.

After I give him a welcome nod, I turn back to the stage.

“We don’t have time for this shit right now, Gage.”

“I’ve got time. Just head to the Den, and I’ll meet you there in a few.”

“No. You’re coming with me now. I know you’re determined to fuck her, but the bet can wait. The fight can’t. We need to win.”

“‘We’?” I let out a laugh as I shake my head, turning to Ryan. “I don’t recall ever seeing you in the ring, taking any hits, so we just doesn’t seem like the correct term to use.”