FIGHT

Chapter 26

The butterflies in my stomach are raging full force as we approach the massive venue, my forehead pressed against the cool window of the Range Rover, watching all the buildings pass by as we flow through traffic. Of course, on the day I wish for traffic, it relents, giving us a smooth ride.

We arrive way sooner than I was hoping for.

As Holden drives around to the back, I catch of the glimpse of people loitering in the parking lot. Some groups are there for tailgating, but the majority of people are gathered in a massive line to enter the building. There are other matches tonight besides Holden and Eli's, but none of them have as much hype about them. Holden Samuels vs. Elliot Samson is the main event for tonight.

My gut feeling tells me that all of the people are here just for the chance to watch those two men fight, specifically. As great as other boxing matches are, tonight has been classified as the "fight of the century."

Like I wasn't nervous enough already.

I tug at the light shirt swaddling my body; it's not tight-fitting, but my whole body is so clammy that the fabric clings to my skin anyway. A slight smile crosses my face as I get a glimpse of the picture of Holden plastered across my chest, but it quickly fades when Holden pulls into a spot and officially parks the car.

This is it.

Before getting out of the car, I wipe my sweaty hands on my black jeans, ridding myself of the nervous moisture. My whole body is shaking and we've still got at least an hour before Holden actually has to get in the ring.

When I was younger, I used to do theatre. It was my way of becoming something different, of living in a world contrasting to my situation at home. Though I was never a shy person, I shook like a leaf every time I got on stage because I couldn't control my nerves.

That is nothing compared to how I feel now.

I can hear the trunk of Holden's car close as he grabs his large duffel bag, walking around the car to grab my hand in his. After interlocking our fingers, he tugs lightly, a soft demand that I move with him.

Since we woke up this morning, he's been unreadable. I don't know what he's thinking or what he's expecting to happen during this fight. Holden's been in the zone all day, ready to come and fight. I know that's what I told him I wanted, but I can't help the doubt coming back to nip at me. I wish I could go into the future to see the outcome of the fight so I could encourage it if he wins and pull him away if he loses.

Elijah doesn't fight fair. He never has. Even when we were kids, he never let me win at anything and he always made sure to have the upper hand. It's impossible for me to imagine what "unfair" fighting can turn out to be in this situation.

I'm so lost in my own thoughts that I don't even realize when we enter the building, winding down a series of long hallways before coming to a stop at a large, red door. Holden releases my hand to dig out a small key out of his pocket, easily clicking the lock open and pushing the door forward so I can enter.

Lockers surround the walls, as if multiple people are going to be using this room. If this match is anything like Holden's last one, the only other people entering will be the ones on his team.

I search the wall until I find the light switch, flickering it on and making the fluorescent lights come to life. My eyes follow Holden as he walks to one of the wide benches, plopping his heavy duffel down before seating himself. Today has been odd with the mixture of our personalities. I never question what to do around Holden, but I find myself scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.