Bet Your Life (15 page)

“You’d still think it was horrible.” Ella took my other hand, which was awkward as I actually really needed to blow my nose again.

“It’s starting,” someone called from the corridor, and there was a rush for the door. Claudia reached over and patted my arm before she went, which both surprised me and actually made me feel slightly worse.

I looked at Darcy. “Do I have to go?”

“It’s going to happen anyway, whether you’re there or not.”

“Come on.” Hugo pushed me sideways so I fell off the stool. “Toughen up. If it’s your fault they’re fighting, you have a moral responsibility to watch. Besides, I don’t want to miss it.”

“Who do you think is going to win?” Ella asked him.

“I’m not wasting my money. It could go either way.” He came round behind me and took hold of my elbows, then propelled me out of the kitchen with main force as I squirmed.

“You can watch. Why do I have to?”

“You’re our ticket to the best seats in the house.”

I didn’t know what he meant, but as we pushed our way down the hall and into the living room, people stood aside to let us pass. I got to the front of the crowd remarkably easily. Everyone knew who was fighting, and everyone knew why. Like it or not, I was part of the show.

Harry was standing in the middle of the living room, where no one was dancing now. People lined the walls, five or six deep, and stood on the stairs, and leaned over the side of the walkway above. Anything to get a good view. The music was off but the room was still noisy, conversations buzzing on all sides. Harry clapped his hands above his head and got something like silence. “Is everyone ready?”

A cheer. I wondered if I was going to faint. Then I wondered if that would do anything to stop the fight going ahead.

“Remember,” Harry said, “you can change your mind about who’s going to win until I say the betting is over. Then that’s it. You’re stuck with whoever you picked. Blue for Ryan, red for Will.”

There was a rumble of conversation around the room. For the first time I noticed that most of the guests were holding strips of paper, some red, mostly blue.

“Harry’s the bookie,” Hugo murmured in my ear. “His mates give out the tickets and keep track of the bets. It’s a fiver a time but you can double your money if you’re right.”

I wasn’t the best at maths, but even I could see the numbers didn’t work. “If Ryan wins, Harry’s going to lose a lot of money.”

“He doesn’t care. It’s nothing to him. He’s got more money than you can imagine.”

“OK. Let’s do it.” Harry was literally jumping up and down with excitement as the crowd cheered. Heads turned as a door opened upstairs and the two of them filed out. They stood together for a moment at the top of the glass stairs. They were much the same height. Ryan was a shade broader in the shoulders and across the chest, but they both looked ultra-fit, and strong, and determined. Ryan moved first, running down the stairs without acknowledging anyone who spoke to him or patted him on the shoulder. A couple of steps behind him, Will had his head down, in a world of his own. The two of them came and stood in the center of the living room, flanking Harry, and there was a flurry of activity with red tickets changing hands. Will had taken off his shirt. His T-shirt showed off his body, and people were reassessing their choice as they noticed he was actually built. I looked at them both hopelessly, and realized that I really wanted Will to win—not because I preferred him, but because he was so thoroughly underestimated most of the time. Ryan got plenty of attention, but Will was only known for being the copper’s son. It didn’t make him particularly popular, and he deserved more.

To my left, there was a mild commotion. Lucy Blair had fallen over and was lying on the floor, eyes closed, a wide smile on her face. Two of her friends knelt beside her, squeaking with horror.

“Can someone give her a hand?” Harry called.

The two bouncers pushed through the crowd and one of them checked Lucy’s pulse. “She’s fine.”

“She’s been having a bit too much fun, that’s all,” Harry said. There was general laughter at Lucy’s expense. I didn’t find it funny.

“Take her upstairs,” Harry said. One of the bouncers scooped her up and started up the stairs. Lucy’s friends scrambled to follow.

“Ladies, she needs to sleep it off. There’s no need for you two to go.” Harry smiled and the edge had left his voice when he added, “You’d miss the fun.”

They faltered and stopped, then turned back. I watched as they disappeared into the crowd. The two of them looked worried, but no one seemed to notice, or care.

“Shake hands, boys.” Harry stood back to let Ryan and Will share the briefest of handshakes. Ryan turned back and scanned the crowd until he found my face. He held my gaze and for just a second his stern expression softened. It looked as if he was going to smile, but then Harry spoke again.

“No more bets please, ladies and gentlemen.” He hopped up onto a coffee table, out of the way. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Will and Ryan said in unison.

Harry threw his arms up in the air. “Fight!”

The roar from the crowd was deafening. Will’s head came up and he scowled at Ryan. The two boys circled, eyes locked on one another, and I cringed as Ryan made the first move with a short, vicious jab. Will twisted so that it landed on his arm rather than his torso, and swung back with a right hook that connected solidly with Ryan’s midsection. Ryan winced but barely faltered, and the noise level went even higher as he went on the attack. The two of them traded punches as if it was nothing, as if they couldn’t even feel pain. I couldn’t bear to watch. Nor could I bear to see the excitement on the faces all around me, the lust for blood.

“They’re so well-matched.” It was a guy I didn’t know, talking to his friend. “I can’t work out which of them has the edge.”

“This could go on for a while.”

I shut my eyes. I really hoped they were wrong. But neither would back down. And Harry was enjoying it far too much to let them stop. A roar made me look up in time to see Will’s head snap back as Ryan socked him on the jaw. Will took a second to get his balance back, and Ryan waited, on his toes, even as the crowd shouted at him to finish Will off. It was like Ryan to fight fair, even when he was angry. I wished he had been fighting anyone but Will, so that I could have wanted him to win. He was good too: as soon as Will was ready to fight again, he punched him in the side, and Will doubled over, holding onto his ribs as he winced.

“I think Will’s in trouble,” Ella said, hanging onto my arm so tightly I knew I would have bruises to show for it.

“Don’t count him out yet.” Hugo had his hands in his pockets and looked about as ruffled as someone watching two flies crawl up a wall.

“How can you be so calm?” I asked him, and he grinned.

“Watch.”

I looked back and saw Ryan swing wildly, missing Will, who grabbed his hand and pulled, using his momentum to flip him over. Ryan landed on his back with a thud that got a groan from the crowd, but somehow he managed to drag Will with him. The two of them rolled around, grappling with one another. Will ended up on top, hammering Ryan with blow after blow as he held his arms up to try to guard his face.

“He’s going to hurt him,” I wailed.

“That’s the general idea of fighting.” Hugo was looking thoughtful. “I wonder, though.”

As he said it, Ryan heaved Will off him and jumped to his feet. Will scrambled up as well and the two of them went back to circling, disheveled now, their T-shirts torn and marked with sweat. As smoothly as a dancer, Ryan stepped forward, and in the same movement landed a blow, out of nowhere, just under Will’s left eye. It spun him round and he went sprawling on the ground.

“That’s it,” said the guy behind me. “He’s not getting up.”

Slowly, painfully, he did, though, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. Ryan stood back, waiting, breathing hard.

“This’ll be the end.” Mr. Know-it-All again, though I agreed with him. Harry had just checked his watch. Both boys looked utterly exhausted. Will’s cheekbone was grazed and starting to swell already. He threw a punch that Ryan dodged, and another.

“Slowing down.” The guy behind me cupped his hands around his mouth and roared, “Finish it. Put him out of his misery.”

As if he’d heard him, Ryan moved forward again with a left hook that Will avoided by what looked like sheer luck. If it was luck, he was lucky again a second later, as his right fist smashed into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan staggered back, one hand to his face. He took it away and looked at his palm, which was suddenly, shockingly red. I couldn’t see exactly where he was injured but he was certainly bleeding from his mouth, and badly. Will stood back, side on to him, still with his hands in fists, still watchful. Rightly, because Ryan looked up at him with pure rage in his eyes. Before he could attack again, Harry waved his hands above his head and jumped down. “That’s it! Enough.”

Around me the crowd were chanting the fighters’ names.

“I’ve got to pick a winner,” Harry said. He stood between them again and held onto their wrists like a real boxing referee. “And I choose…”

The room went almost silent.

“Both of them.” He yanked their arms in the air as everyone roared their approval.

“Does that mean Harry has to pay out on all the bets?” I asked Hugo.

“Yeah. He won’t miss the money.”

People were flooding in to congratulate Will and Ryan, thumping them on the back. Ryan was laughing, exchanging high fives with his friends. He’d stripped off his T-shirt to staunch the flow of blood from his mouth, and his torso, lean and rippling with muscle, looked like a Greek statue come to life. Will put up with the attention too, grinning at a remark that someone made, bending to let a random girl in a low-cut dress kiss his cheek. I was absolutely not going to humiliate myself by fighting through the crowd to do the same, for either of them. Now that it was over, my fear had turned to anger—with both of them.

Eventually Will detached himself from his admirers and started to make a move. I had five or six things ready to say, but I wasn’t going to get the chance. He wasn’t walking toward me, as I had expected, but to the door.

“He’s leaving?” Ella looked surprised.

“So it seems.”

“He should stick around. Enjoy the attention.”

Hugo laughed. “Will doesn’t care about that kind of thing.”

“Well, what about Jess? Doesn’t he want to say anything to her? He just had a fight over her.”

“If it
was
over her,” Hugo said. “Like I said, this argument goes way back.”

“And now he’s gone.” I watched him disappear through the door without so much as glancing in my direction. He hadn’t looked at me once, in fact, the whole time. And I’d been standing at the front; it wasn’t hard to spot me. Feeling deflated, and not a little tearful, I turned back and found myself being swept off the ground, thrown over someone’s shoulder. I held on, afraid of falling, but equally afraid of my skirt riding up. It didn’t take me long to work out who had grabbed me, since he was half naked and wholly sweaty.

“I would kiss you,” Ryan said as he lowered me to the ground, “but my mouth hurts too much.”

“Are you all right?”

“I’ll live.” He grinned at me, then stopped with a wince. Up close I could see a gash in his lip; it was still oozing blood.

“That looks painful. You need to put some ice on it. Or frozen peas.”

“There’s loads of ice in the kitchen,” Ella said.

“Who wants to be nurse?” Ryan’s eyes were on me.

“I think I’m going to go home,” I said.

“Jess…”

“No, Ryan.” I pulled myself free. “I hate what just happened. I hate what you did. Both of you. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Wait, Jess—”

“No.” I felt the tears stinging my eyes again and I turned away from him. “I’ve got to go. Ella, will you be OK with Hugo?”

“I can come with you.”

“No, don’t. You haven’t even been here that long and you’ve spent the whole time looking after me. Enjoy the party. Dance. Look at the view. Kiss Hugo.”

“Shh! He’ll hear you.” She was laughing, though her eyes were still troubled. She held onto my hand. “There’ll be other parties, Jess. Let me come with you. Make sure you get home all right.”

“It’s fine. I know the way, which is more than you can say.” I hugged her, glad she was there but needing to be on my own. “I just need to get my head straight.”

“I’ll see you later, then.” She stood with Hugo, the two of them watching me with very different expressions as I headed for the door. Ella was all doubt and concern, Hugo as sardonic as ever—proof if ever proof were needed that opposites attract.

I retrieved my jacket, which was fortunately unscathed, and one of the bouncers helped me into it.

“That’s my job.” Ryan let the big door swing closed behind him. He sounded slightly out of breath, as if he’d had to hurry to catch up with me.

“You look as if you’ve got your hands full,” I said. He was pulling his coat on while draining a glass of something clear. “Is that water?”

He shook his head even as he tilted the last of it down his throat. “Vodka, I think. I nicked it off someone. I wanted it for this.” He shook the ice onto a paper napkin and wrapped it up, then held it to his mouth.

“You should have gone to the kitchen. You’d have found any number of girls willing to tend your wounds.”

“I only wanted one.”

I rolled my eyes and glanced at the bouncers, who were pretending they weren’t listening. “I’m not really that sort of girl.”

He shrugged. “Never mind. Have you got everything?”

“I think so. But you don’t have to leave with me.”

“I came here with you; I’m leaving with you. End of story.” He dabbed at his lip. “I don’t think I was going to have much more fun than that anyway.”

“Yeah, that fight was a real high point for your evening.”

“It wasn’t my idea.”

“You went along with it.”

“The alternatives were worse.” He followed me out of the house and down the path. “Harry doesn’t like it when people say no.”

“Are you that desperate to stay in with the in-crowd? Really?” I shook my head. “I will never understand this place. Or all those ghouls in there, cheering and making money off the two of you.”