Caged: Cellar Door Series by K. Pars Read Free Book Online Page B

didn’t wish it was too. Kylee didn’t use curse words, she got her point across without needing those kind of adjectives. The fact she’d use any was a testament to the asshole I’d been.  I’d really hurt her, way more than I’d realized.
    I knew back then it would probably bother her for a while but banked on her cutting out a new life. I figured she’d find someone else to fill my vacated spot to shower attention on. No matter the cost to me it was what I’d felt was best for her. She deserved way the hell better than I could offer her even as a friend. She didn’t need to spend her lift constantly worrying about me. The fact she’d almost changed her mind about college because of me was more than enough proof that I was a danger to her.  At the time it had made perfect sense. So why now all of a sudden I felt like the lowest form of shit, the kind of shit that other shit looked down on caught me off guard.
    What was my motto....oh yeah… drink. I raised my beer to my mouth and poured a healthy amount down my throat barely tasting it. I just wanted to get it down, get another and find my happy place. The place a good buzz took you; that numb spot where you were too foggy to even try to make sense of the damage that was your life; where you were able to block out what you felt about other people. I was fucking golden at finding that place.
    I shocked the shit out of myself when words tumbled out my mouth as I lowered my beer. I for damn sure hadn’t conjured them up, they just fell out. Stupid fucking mouth.
    “My bad Ky. I was just…shit I was just trying to do the right thing for you. You deserve better than a self destructive prick for a best friend. You deserve the kind of person that gets you. The kind that can help you along in a better life, not drag you down to a level that someone like you should never see, never even know about.” I finally plugged the hole in my head that kept spewing out shit that I had promised long ago never to say to her. It was my load to carry and I was going to.
    Kylee had a savior complex, it had been her mission to save me for as long as we’d known each other and that was only going to cost her so I’d opted out of the program by shoving her away.
    Kylee didn’t know the half of what I’d been up too and she surely wouldn’t get why I was fighting, why I purposely put myself in a position to take a hit and give hits when I had done nothing but try to get away from that when I was a kid. No point in taking her down that path. Down to the type of people who dwelled in the lower level of Cellar Door, to the drugs that got passed around like candy, to the people that would bet everything they owned and chance a beating, risk everything at the thrill of making a quick run if they bet just right. Down to the dumbasses that made cash betting on themselves to lose. What the fuck kind of reject bet on themselves to fucking lose? There were fighters that were owned, that had bet and lost so much that they had “promoters” that got them fights, fights that could get them killed if they were paired up with the wrong opponent. Yeah, the more I thought on it, the more I remembered why I let Kylee go. It wasn’t her scene but it damn sure was mine and I wasn’t going to drag her into it even if there were some decent fighter that fought there too.
    Another forkful of Kylee’s salad was stabbed and shoved in her mouth like she was barricading her words. She chewed violently, like the salad had offended her before she swallowed. Low and behold I was saved again by the waitress as the rest of the food arrived. I dug into my cheese steak like I hadn’t eaten in days.
    Honestly I hadn’t had something this unhealthy for me in ages. I drink to excess, oh yeah me and the alcohol gods had a long standing arrangement. I drank from them and they provided me the shelter I sought. But food, I actually ate fairly damn decent, a fact Matt loved to point out and laugh at. Still, I had