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No response.
Pick up the phone right fucking now, McNeely.
Still no response.
He’d said he’d be free after the game. It was six o’clock. The perfect time to catch someone after their football game and before they betrayed their… whatever the fuck I was to him.
Sex partner? Situationship?
Didn’t matter what you called it.
Nobody got to touch Bett McNeely except me.
If I left now, I could be back in Tritt by nine. Dalton would save Bett for the last fight of the night, which wouldn’t start until closer to ten.
I started tossing my stuff in a bag, cursing my fucking uncle, my asshole roommate, and myself for trusting either of them.
When I got behind the wheel of the truck, I dialed Dalton.
“Hey, Ells. How’s the—?”
I cut him off. “You’re not putting up McNeely.”
He let out a laugh. “Uh, yeah I fucking am. McNeely’s cash money. You should see the take, kiddo. I’m talking enough to cover next semester’s tuition and plenty more besides. And I’m being smart about it. McNeely made me promise to confiscate everyone’s phones—”
“Dalton, I need you to pull him,” I said tersely. “As a favor. To me.”
He hesitated. “Ells, no. You’re not thinking. You hate this kid, don’t you? Good. Let him get his ass kicked. Spanner’s gonna put him down. My only hope is that he can stay up long enough to make it entertaining.”
My stomach curled into a toxic ball. “You do not want Senator McNeely’s kid in your cage, Dalton. Believe me. I don’t give a shit how many phones you confiscate, the news of this will get out. Why would you take that risk?”
“Honestly? I didn’t want to at first. But I had a couple guys in here last night when McNeely showed up. They were interested in seeing the senator’s kid fight. Said they’d make it more interesting by putting some action on it themselves.”
I gripped the steering wheel so tight it squeaked. “Who?”
“None of your business. You don’t want to know. Just… some guys I’ve done some work for. Guys with the kind of money that’ll cover us if we get too much heat on the Pit. And don’t worry that this will blow back on us. If we have to, we can close down for a bit and reopen when things cool off, okay?”
No. It definitely wasn’t okay.
“McNeely’s worth money,” I said, feeling reckless and desperate. “It’s not just about the media. The NFL is scouting this kid. What happens if he gets a serious injury? He’s the kind of guy whose legs get fucking insured, Dalton.”
“Chill out. It’s not our problem if this kid wants to get knocked around a little for cash. His body, his choice, same as anyone else who fights here. You weren’t worried about Wes’s wrestling career when you brought him in, were you?”
No. I hadn’t been.
But Wes wasn’t the son of one of the most manipulative and powerful men in the entire goddamn state of Georgia.
And Wes wasn’t the man I was—
Fuck.
“Please,” I repeated, voice wrecked with frustration. “Please reconsider. As a favor to me.”
“Elliot…” Again, Dalton hesitated before his voice firmed. “I’m willing to risk the heat. He’s the one willing to risk injury. What business is it of yours?”
Because he’s fucking mine!
Why couldn’t Dalton just give me this? I almost never asked for anything.
