Losing Nuka (Litmus Book 1) (12 page)

“But the woman you’re currently living with is? Really? The woman who gives you a bodyguard yet clearly has no problems with the fact that you’re bruised? Yeah, looks like you’ve found yourself a real winner there in the parent department. Can’t you see that Lia did nothing but protect you all these years? And how do you repay her? Running off the minute you could afford to?”

“Why are you suddenly defending her? Because she’s giving you a job?”

Declan shakes his head. “I knew you’d get like this. I’ve never told you what I really think because I knew you’d pull away from me, just like you did to them. I can’t handle the thought of losing you, Nuke, but I’m worried I already have.”

“Because I haven’t needed you the last month? Because I haven’t ran to your side for every little thing? Because I realised I was so dependent on you that I needed to do something for myself for once?”

“You won’t even tell me what you’ve been up to lately. You’re being evasive and you know it. I realise you have this new family and new life, and you need time to get to know them … but, I miss you. I don’t want to lose you. And you’re not exactly being forthcoming with the truth, are you? What’s with the eye, Nuke? Where are you actually working? Are you going to answer any of my questions truthfully?”

“I can’t,” I whisper.

Suddenly Brett’s at our table, interrupting us. “Hey, we need to get back,” he says to me, not even bothering to acknowledge Declan.

“Who are you, her bodyguard or her father?” Declan sneers.

“While she’s living in Cade’s house, I’m responsible for her.”

I can tell Declan’s pissed off, but I also know he’s not usually one to pick a fight. Not to mention Brett’s twice his size. Declan’s strong, but Brett…

“We have to go, Nuke. Right now.”

Declan glowers at Brett. I’m guessing because he called me Nuke. Until Brett, only Declan called me that. It didn’t occur to me to tell Brett to stop. It’s almost been a comfort, still hearing it.

“Okay. Fine,” I say, getting up out of my chair.

Declan stands and steps forwards for a hug.

I wrap my arms around him. Breathing in his scent, I nuzzle my face into his neck. When I pull back and look into his piercing blue eyes, they beg me to let him in, to tell him the truth. But that’s just something I can’t do. Especially now.
My best friend is becoming a cop.

Brett gently grabs my arm to pull me away. As we start walking towards the car, I can’t resist a glimpse back at Declan. He waves with one hand while placing the other in the front pocket of his jeans. It makes him look innocent and sweet.
I wish I could tell you everything,
I think as I tear my eyes away from him.

“You need to learn to lie better,” Brett says as we get in the car.

“I’ve never kept a secret from him. I don’t know how to lie to him.”

“You’re gonna have to learn if you want to keep seeing him. You know the rules.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sigh. “How do you do it? How do you keep it from your nanna, from Paddy?”

“I’m pretty sure Paddy knows. Litmus is kind of well-known in the Estates. But he also knows not to bring it up or ask about it. With Nanna, it helps I don’t see her all that often.” His voice is laced with guilt. “She knows Cade and Jonas are my owners, but she doesn’t know what they have me do. She thinks they’re just my bosses and I run their security.”

“I still find the term ‘owners’ weird,” I mumble more to myself than him. “How’s the Paddy situation going? Did you get the money?”

“It’s all sorted. I’m just scared Paddy’s going to go right back to them as soon as he can. Or find a different crew.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I just want to get him out of there.”

There’s a lengthy silence, each minute passing casting even more doubt over what I’m trying to do.

“I’m doing the right thing … right?”

Brett shrugs. “I know I wouldn’t be doing it if I had a healthy trust fund to take care of me. But I admire you for what you’re wanting to do with the money.”

“Am I stupid to think I can actually do this?”

“Wanna go home and train some more?”

I nod. “Definitely. Kicking your ass will make me feel a whole lot better,” I say with feigned optimism.

Brett actually manages to smile at me. A real, genuine smile. That hasn’t happened in weeks.

***

“Are you ready to go?” Brett asks, standing at my bedroom door.

They offered me a different room a few weeks ago, but I’ve strangely become accustomed to my small and simple room. It’s comfortable. Sasha’s room upstairs is ridiculously big … and bright pink. I’m surprised she doesn’t get a headache from being surrounded by so much brightness. It looks like a fairy threw up in there. But my room has a certain charm to it, so I decided to stay down here.

“Nuka? Are you ready?” Brett asks again, snapping me out of my trance.

“Uh … yeah. I guess.”

“Nervous?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

“You could say that. I mean, it’s kind of hard to get excited about getting beaten up.”

“Nah. You’ll do great. Besides, it’s only one of the other team members today. I’ll tell them to go easy.”

“Well that’s not really the point of this test, right? Isn’t it to see if I’m really ready to go into the arena?”

“Yeah, but for your first real fight, you’ll be facing a less experienced fighter. You’ll probably have to go easy on
them.
We don’t want people to be too scared of volunteering.”

We start making our way to the garage and to his car.

“Why do they do the whole volunteering thing, anyway?”

“People
love
to root for an underdog. It usually brings in big bets, and they nearly always lose. It’s money making. And not to mention highly entertaining. No one really knows what they’re getting themselves into until it’s too late, and the looks on their faces are priceless.”

“But they do sometimes win?” I ask, dumping my bag in the back of his car and getting in the passenger seat.

“It happens occasionally. I sometimes wonder if it’s rigged, though. Not many of the winners stick around for too long afterwards. None of the current fighters are Wild Card winners.” He shrugs as he starts the car. “I dunno. I’ve never been asked to throw a Wild Card fight, but that doesn’t mean it’s not happening. And if you think about it, if no one’s qualifying, people would give up trying.”

“So it doesn’t matter if I lose?”

“You won’t lose. You’re ready.”

“Well you’ve certainly changed your tune since yesterday.”

“Yeah, because you beat the crap out of me last night.”

He sounds annoyed but when I look over at his face, he’s smirking like he’s proud.

We pull up fifteen minutes later to the industrial area of the city.

“Why are we here?”

“Showing you another entry,” Brett says, getting out of the car. “Drake told you there were four, right?”

“Yeah, but he didn’t tell me why.”

“Simple really. If we were ever to be found out, there are three other escape routes to use so we don’t get arrested,” he says, unlocking a door to a naked warehouse. There’s no sign on the outside, no markings, just a plain white warehouse. He closes the door behind us as we head inside.

“I guess that makes sense. Does everyone know about the four entries?”

“Just employees.”

“So what you’re saying is: everyone who attends Litmus only knows of one entry, meaning if we were to be raided, the cops would most likely find them and not us.” My tone is accusatory, even though I didn’t mean it to be … okay, maybe I did a little.

Brett shakes his head with a huff. “I wish I could’ve grown up in the world you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, following him into an old, rickety elevator at the far end of the warehouse.

“In the real world, where everyone else lives, it’s all about survival. Everyone’s in it for themselves. You take what you can get, and you don’t give anything away for free. Should I feel bad if people—who are betting on me getting my ass beaten—get arrested while I take the chance to escape? No. And you shouldn’t either. I can guarantee that not
one person
in there will do anything to help you if that situation was to arise. Remember that, ‘kay? No matter what, get yourself out.”

“What about Cade? You don’t think she would at least care what happens to me?”

Brett rubs his temple. “Believe me when I say, she’s the worst of them all. Self-survival, Nuke. You need to learn it.”

Before I can question him further, the elevator doors open to one of the backstage corridors of Litmus.

“So we’re right under the industrial area of the city?”

“Pretty much. There are two nightclubs in the city with underground tunnel entries that bring you to the other side of Litmus. Then there’s the warehouse, and the last entry is what the patrons use, which is in the old train yards—the only remaining entrance to the old underground rail.”

He leads me to a door labelled “Deakin Fighters” and punches in a code, opening the door to a waft of body odour and man scent.

Eww, gross.

“Code is eight-zero-zero-eight-five, by the way,” he says leading me in.

Watching the numbers light up on the keypad, I can’t help laughing. “Boobs? Really?”

“Five numbers is hard for a bunch of guys to remember,” he says with a shrug. “We made it easier.”

I hear laughter coming from a group of four guys waiting for us as we enter the locker room.

“Okay, guys,” Brett says. “Meet our newest. Everyone this is Nuka, Nuka—everyone.”

I shyly lift my hand and give a little wave, which is met with head nods and quiet hellos.

One of the guys, a tall, lean, redhead, steps forward to shake my hand. “Nuka, hey? That’s a pretty cool stage name. What—”

“Uh … it’s my actual name. But … thanks. I guess.”

“Sorry, I just assumed. I’m Palmer, so I know what it’s like to have a weird name. Stage name’s Inferno.”

“Oh, fireballs, right?”

Palmer looks to Brett, “Been talking about me? I didn’t know you were so sweet on me,” he says, winking.

“It was Sasha, actually,” I say.

“Oh. Damn. She’s not exactly my type.”

Another guy steps forward. He’s scrawny compared to the others and shorter than I am.
How is he a fighter?
“I’m Ryker, also known as Psych,” he says, shaking my hand.

“Ah, that explains it,” I say, realising he’s the one who can hurt you without even touching you.

“Explains what?” he snaps, scowling at me.

“That you’re a short-ass with no muscles and you’re a fighter,” Brett answers, playfully punching him in the arm before turning to me. “But trust me, you’ll be thankful he’s on our team. He’s almost undefeated.”

“Damn straight,” Ryker says.

“’Sup. I’m Colton,” a guy with jet-black hair and who’s almost as big as Brett steps forward, also shaking my hand.

“He’s like me. Crap ability, great fighter,” Brett informs me.

“What’s your ability?” I ask.

He lifts his arms out to his side and floats off the ground a couple of feet. “I can’t go very high, but it does give me an advantage over my opponents. I can attack from a high position, and defying gravity kind of helps pull off some difficult manoeuvres.”

“Cool. What’s your stage name?”

Colton laughs nervously. “Uh … Archangel. It’s sucky, I know. Most people have started calling me Archie.”

I chuckle. “It’s not too bad. We’re struggling to come up with one for me. They all sound lame.”

“What’s your ability?” Colton asks.

“I can—”

“Why don’t you wait and find out?” Brett cuts me off. “Which one of you four is going to fight her today, anyway? Any volunteers?”

None of them says anything.

“Come on, you can’t be scared of a girl this size, can you?” Brett taunts, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. “Going to be pretty embarrassing if she can kick on your asses in front of the other teams, right?”

“Wait. Other teams? I thought it was just going to be us?” I ask.

Brett shrugs. “At some point or another throughout the day, we’re all here practicing. Most of the others are great, they’ll even spar with you and help you out. Most of them … but not all.”

“Like Taser?” I ask.

“Don’t ask Taser for favours,” Colton says with conviction.

“So …” Brett says looking back to the group. “Who’s it going to be?”

“I’ll do it,” says the guy sitting on the bench beside the lockers. The only one who didn’t stand to meet me.

“Thought you might, Steve.”

Steve disappears out of sight, and a few moments later, there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn to see who did it, but no one’s there.

“Call me Ghost,” Steve whispers as he reappears next to me. “This is going to be fun. Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on ya,” he says with a playful grin, walking out of the locker room.