Behind These Refuge Walls

"No way!"

"I can't believe this!"

"I'm telling you, it's her!"

"Ha ha! Tell ya she was fucking back!"

"What's she doin' 'ere?"

"Back the fuck off!" Ryan's vicious bark seemed to strike all their heads at once. The blond male beside me put his hand around my shoulders in what seemed to be a protective gesture - I found myself enjoying his touch, but hating the action altogether.

His demand was met with several ignorant laughs, while others (those who seemed to be locals and younger) turned away. In the next five minutes that followed, conscience seemed to be coming back to me. As I regained my composure, Ryan had already started pulling me to the back rooms through the mass of angry bodies.

Every warehouse or arena used in the underground business have hidden rooms, that only the privileged fighters get to enter. Initially, the bouncers that stood by the doors tensed up as they laid eyes on me, but relaxed when noticed Ryan.

A group of four or five Stratford students all stood around, laughing and splitting the cash. Out of them all, only one of them seemed familiar. The lean boy with dreadlocks sported a pair of baggy army pants and a cliché Bob Marley t-shirt. The instant he turned around, he gave me a once over and began rubbing the beginning of what seemed as a beard.

"Ah!" he exclaimed. "I know you." As soon as he pointed out the fact, the others turned around to glance at me.

A shorter boy scowled in my direction. "Yeah, she's that dike from--"

"Clive!"

All of their eyes turned in Ryan's direction, who looked rather annoyed with the turn of events. I could only wonder if he knew what was really going on back in the arena.

"What's she doin' here?" Dreadlocks questioned.

Ryan patted my shoulder as if we were best buddies. The overall feeling I got was far from friendly. It was only a little while ago that him treated me like an ice bitch. I pulled away from him and although the gesture was discrete, he did notice and he did sent me a short glance that I couldn't decipher.

"Clive, put down my money," Ryan ordered, then nodded as he received all the attention. "Meet Jinx."

I couldn't help my gaping mouth. I positively looked like a dying fish, staring at him like I did. But Ryan didn't look at me yet. Instead, three sets of eyes fell on me. Dreadlocks seemed to be in deep thought, Clive frowned, slightly amused, while the other guy (who looked a year or two older than us) nodded firmly.

When I finally grew tired of the silence, I turned to face Ryan. He mimicked my action, watching me with the calm, yet slightly thrilled blue eyes. "You knew?" I barked out.

"Not until people began talking," he replied. "You seem angry."

"Oh, I can't fucking believe this! Did you set me up? Did you want to see if they'll skin me alive or something?! You're sick!"

"Jinx, chillax." I looked back at Dreadlocks almost disgusted. "No one knew you were even in town."

"Besides," Ryan intervened, stepping closer to me, "what did you expect? It's the beginning of the season. All sorts of people are here. And what the hell, Charlie? Why are you so pissed?"

"Because this wasn't supposed to happen! I did not want to be recognized!"

Clive snorted. "Guess it wasn't meant to be, doll face."

"Call me doll face again and I'll snap your throat, midget!" I was close to seething and the only thing that did calm me down was the guys' laughter at the sight of Clive gaping at me.

"Charlie, that dickhead is Clive." Ryan smiled briefly in my direction. I didn't return the gesture. "That's JoJo." Dreadlocks raised his hand and grinned. The memory of the boy hit me like a speeding train.

"You're friends with Damien," I blurted, eyeing him up and down. He sensed my uneasiness, resulting in the fall of his grin.

The older guy laughed shortly. "We're all friends with Damien." With three long strides he placed himself in front of me and extended his hand. "Lucian."

Lucian's smirk demanded to get laid, while his eyes sparkled with mischief. He wasn't a lot taller than myself, but he made up for the lack of height with the gain of biceps. He had dark brown hair, cut short and sporting some sort of pattern on the right side of his skull. He didn't lack the looks and what gave him a plus were the tattoos sticking out of his sleeveless shirt and going up the side of his neck and down his arms.

I shook his hand, but the only thought that demanded my attention was that these were all Damien's friends. Ryan was Damien's friend. And Damien was my arch enemy, along with the other hundreds of students going to Stratford.

Lucian cleared his throat, his seductive smirk not leaving his face. "Damien's affairs aren't our business." Which was a clear way of telling me that he couldn't care less if Damien and I killed each other.

Glancing at Ryan, I saw him watching us blankly, then, as Lucian spoke, he nodded. The air around us seemed to grow easy and I silently jumped in joy. I suddenly remembered I was holding Ryan's black t-shirt and instantly tossed it in his face. He stared at me in shock at first, then as he realized what he was holding, he laughed.

"Oh, come on, don't tell me you didn't like holding that." He winked, making Lucian smirk in my direction.

"In your dreams."

"Was it a good fight?" JoJo asked, appearing by our side.

I smirked, eager to poke at Ryan's pride. If they really knew who I was, they'd know I had seen plenty of fights up until that point. "It was alright. Can't say I was very impressed." It was a lie. I was impressed by the fact that Ryan was capable of fighting like that.

"Oh! Burn!"

Ryan shrugged. "Can't say I had a very good opponent, but whatever. Next time you'll see better." Then, as an idea popped in his head, a mischievous grin grew on his face. "Or maybe next time you'll show us better."

There was a sickening silence that might have made the fall of a needle seem loud. I blinked twice, distracted by the looks of thrilled children everyone around me had.

"I don't think you got the memo," I began (my tone obviously cautious), "but I don't fight anymore."

"Really?"

"Really."

Lucian took a seat on an old chair by Clive's side. The three newly met testosterone bags seemed to be taking in every detail of me. Ryan headed in the direction of a bucket full of ice and began tending to his bruised jaw. I was left standing there, looking away.

"I can't believe it," Lucian breathed. "You know, I expected you to be taller. And wider. And ugly as fuck."

"Yeah. Sorry, girl, but what do you bring to the ring? You're skinny as hell." An exaggeration, I decided, but I suppose to them, female fighters had to have a neck the width of their thigh. "How do you even knock 'em out?"

"She jinxes them." JoJo grinned, as though remembering something.

Again, silence. Ryan put down the ice and pulled his t-shirt over his bruised abdomen.

"So you really are the Jinx Sanders from Miami?" I nodded. "The one who had everyone talking and shaking?"

I laughed sharply and disbelieving. "Yeah," I breathed, running a hand through my mass of black hair.

Ryan grabbed his bag and gave everyone their high-fives. "Got a ride home?"

I eyed him, curious by nature. "No. Why?"

"Come on."

The goodbyes I received from Ryan's three friends were no less than friendly, yet I could only force myself to nod and act like a civil stranger to them. Lucian seemed the most ambitious to have me on his good side (mainly because somewhere in that disgusting mind of his, I was a proper candidate for a good fuck). Ryan seemed somewhat distant as he led the way to a back exit and then to the parking lot. The black Escalade waited patiently for its owner to open the driver's door. He nodded in my direction to get in the car.

"Where do you live?" I hesitated in giving him my address, but did so nonetheless. He only nodded in response and turned on the engine. I was somewhat annoyed by his ignorant behavior. Wasn't I supposed to be the one with the bitchy mood?

"So what now?" I turned my head towards him, confused. "What now that everyone knows Jinx is back."

"I'm not back."

"Might as well be," he grumbled. I narrowed my eyes in his direction and he took notice. "Come on. The championship is soon to start. Former feared brawler is seen in the undergrounds near the beginning of one of the busiest championship ever. How does that sound to you?"

I cursed loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough for my thoughts to be unperturbed.

"This is all your fault," I decided. He snapped his head in my direction, staring at me with amused shock.

"How is any of this my fault? You're the one who keeps stepping in holes from one day to another." I frowned; he gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"I have no idea why you're so fucking pissed about that party. Thanks to you and your lovely friends I have to down all sorts of pills." The second I caught his confused frown and open mouth, I laughed sardonically. "Oh, don't give me that look! You know what I'm talking about! All that shit about me being a good pal to you is bullshit! You set me up that day just like you set me up tonight!"

The car came to an abrupt halt in an abandoned parking lot somewhere near my apartment. If anything, I could just run away and get home in twenty minutes tops. Ryan turned his entire body in my direction and glared at me like I had never seem him do before. He looked not only angry, but confused.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Mirroring his emotions (something I seemed to be very good at), I grabbed the door handle. "I'm talking about that tiny drug Damien slipped in my drink. That detail that made me lose it completely and gave you and that fuckhead the opportunity to mess with me! Oh, and please, lest we forget the Havoc Twins, Danielle and Paige."

We fell in abrupt silence, him staring at me in utter shock, me glaring at him with pure rage. As more details came to my mind, I let the words flow.

"Oh, and not to mention your pal, Sean Pierce! That scumbag who apparently hooked up with me, but hey! I can't remember shit!"

"You're talking shit."

"Oh, yeah, play that card, why don't you. You son of a bitch!"

A loud slap resounded throughout the stillness of the car. My palm did sting, but I assumed his right cheek stung even more. I expected him to fight back, bark some insult in my direction, but none of that came. Instead, I was met with a pair of regretful blue eyes and a low tone.

"I didn't know."

"Yeah. Go figure. You must have been drunk off your ass."

He frowned. "No, I was not! Damien said you had told him you couldn't handle alcohol. They all said you were drunk. What the hell? And Sean Pierce? Sean Pierce tried to fucking kiss you and grope you, but some guy pulled him away."

"Doesn't--"

"And I was not drunk because I thought we were having a good time without drinking our asses off. Your actions told me otherwise."

"Are you fucking retarded?! I just told you--"

"And I'm fucking sorry!"

We fell back in silence. I sat back in my seat, letting my nerves calm down. Ryan started the car again and began driving. His anger never diminished, not even when he stopped in front of my house and I apologized for yelling at him.

"You should have told me." I gave him a sorrow-filled look. He looked up at me, his eyes firm. "You should have. I mean, fuck, Charlie, you let Damien touch you like you were his fuck buddy." I shuddered inwardly as his eyes travel led back to his steering wheel. "I told him not to do shit like that. He promised." He seemed to be talking more to himself rather than to me, so I cleared my throat.

"You fought really well tonight." He looked back at me, a glint of amusement in those blue orbs. "Yeah, but don't expect me to give you an award or shit. You ain't that good."

Thanking him for the ride and slamming the door shut, I walked back to my cozy apartment, leaving all the events of the night behind me and in that speeding Escalade.

For a moment, I considered giving Ryan the benefit of doubt. I don't think he knows, Charlie. Max had been right about one thing: Ryan didn't know. Either that, or he was an incredible actor. No. Ryan McCarthy was no actor. If there was something he didn't want to say, he'd just be silent. He wouldn't cover it up with something else.

That meant Damien, Danielle and Paige were the only responsible ones. I needed to throw the blame at someone.

I also needed to figure out how to calm down the spirits surrounding the arena. If they thought I was back, they'd be demanding explanations. But I wasn't back. Then why did I want to be in that ring, too? Wasn't I done with all that?

Gerry had given me a job, claiming that it would keep my mind off things. Normally, I would have refused, but for once, the man's way of handling things didn't bother me. A job also meant money. So I didn't have to fight some overweight, overzealous repulsive man in a smelly arena to win some cash.

I knew why I wanted to be back there, but I couldn't force myself to think about it.

When I finally relaxed my muscles with a shower, I pulled out a notebook and finally wrote down all the details that had been swimming in my head, sometimes showing up, other times hiding. I came up with the solution after reviewing the entire picture.

"Revenge plans? Do we get to rob the National Museum, now that we're at it?"

I failed to notice Nathan as he looked over my shoulder at my notes. I closed the notebook quickly.

"Whatever you like, dork."

"Dad called." I looked up at my younger brother struggling with a box of cookies. "About your car. Said he'd be sending some guy next week with it. They fixed that bent."

"Amen!"

He looked at his phone and informed me that another classmate of his (particularly a girl) called and asked him for his homework.

"You are such a wuss. Can't you just tell her to do her own homework?"

"Come on, CJ. It's Katie. You know how she gets." Yes. Crying is the way these girls get what they want. Later on they will resort to making guys like my brother jealous, then they'll threaten to wander off and have an affair and take the kids with her.

Nathan Sanders will probably be the woman in the relationship. I always criticize my brother for that. Although he is messy, just like any other male, he goes all gooey when it comes to women. At some point, I would have praised that. I would have told him 'Congrats! You're a gentleman', but seeing him grow up and act around the opposite sex, I can only express my despair. He cannot tell a woman off. He cannot deny her anything. He will not deny her anything. He's a tough cookie on the basketball field and around his friends, but when he's around a girl, he'll do anything to look good in her eyes. Well, he hasn't met many normal, friendly, shy girls. That, too, could be a problem. I don't think he would know how to act around one.

You'd think having a bitch of a sister would teach him how cruel women are, but truthfully, my character comes nowhere near the diabolical and manipulative minds some girls have nowadays.

As the kitchen was yet again drowned with silence, my brother silently making his way to bed, I reopened the notebook and pulled out a blank page.

To Do List. Or better yet, Things that need immediate attention. I crossed out those that I had already taken care of (i.e. setting crazy Nazi dog at Damien) and frowned at the remaining ones. The Ryan situation needed time, I decided. It was only logical that I gave him peace for a while.

I pointed the tip of the pen at the first line of my list.

***

"Morning, Charlie." I grinned at Jake and allowed him to hug me. "You look good. Someone's in a happy mood today."

"Absolutely, Jake. I have plenty of things to do."

"Already got a to do list?" Max piped up, slamming his body against the two of us. He then pointed an accusing finger at me. "My fucking dog misses you. I swear, it's like causing the world pain is something incredibly amazing."

Jake rolled his eyes at the drama queen, I played dumb. "So what's first thing on your to do list?" Farris questioned.

I scanned the parking lot carefully, waving in the meanwhile at Janice, who was rushing in our direction. It was amazing how the memory of our conversation hit me right in the pit of my stomach. Seeing her brought up the subject of Massey High and its students. I felt my stomach clench.

I looked around for a dark blue baseball hat and scowled when I saw it. "First thing that needs my attention is Sean Pierce."