Page 48 of All That Glitters

“The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”

Chapter twenty-three

Goldilocks

Jameson Sinclair

If I didn’t know Marigold in a way that I could find her while blindfolded in a room of a thousand people, I wouldn’t have recognized her as she hurried out of the front door of her building a little past eleven.

She’s wearing jeans, which she rarely, if ever, does. And she’s paired those with a gray Thrashers sweatshirt that makes her look like the average college student. To top off her disguise—as I have a feeling that’s what this is—she’s donned a ball cap and put her red hair in a low ponytail.

“You look the definition of nondescript,” I tell her as she approaches.

“That’s what I was going for. If something happens, I don’t want anyone pointing me out in the future.”

My stomach turns at the idea of anything happening that would require Marigold to be undetectable. I’d rather us not go at all tonight, but I’m grateful she’s allowed me to come at least.

We start in the direction of fraternity row. The campus is fairly quiet; our only company are the stars and the occasional security officer riding around on a golf cart. None of them stop us. There’s no rule against walking the campus at night, so as long as we don’t draw suspicion, we should be fine.

“Do you have a plan for tonight?” I ask her. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Earlier she seemed intent on me being silent, but she looks a little more relaxed now. Maybe she realized that I don’t want to steal anything from her. A man can hope.

She shrugs. “I plan on showing up, taking some photos, and asking a few casual questions. The photos alone, paired with Carson’s words, will be front-page material.”

She’s not wrong. An underground boxing ring is the kind of thing that gets national recognition.

“Charlie might bow down and name you editor in chief after this,” I say, and Marigold laughs.

“The man has an ego as big as the solar system. He’s not bowing to anyone. I’m just hoping he crowns me the favorite and gives me a good recommendation letter when the time comes.”

I chuckle at her apt description of Charlie.

“I doubt you’ll need any letters from him. There’s no way this article doesn’t spread like wildfire. All the major news organizations will be banging down your door.”

I catch a glimpse of her smile as we pass under a streetlamp.

“Either way, I just need to get evidence of this place existing, and then we can leave.”

I breathe a little easier at her words. The less time we stay there, the less danger she’s in.

The rest of our walk through campus is quiet. I don’t want to push Marigold to talk if she doesn’t want to. I’ve got to keep my momentum and not get greedy. Just the fact that I’m here with her is a step in and of itself. She could have kept everything a secret and gone on her own.

As we approach Alpha Pi, the yard and house are unusually quiet. The windows are dark, and there’s no indication of any kind of gathering going on.

“Carson said it’s held in the basement,” Marigold whispers as we walk to the front door. “Maybe we just head inside? I doubt they want people to draw attention by knocking.”

My instincts are screaming at me that this is a terrible idea, but I nod anyway, and I’m the first to open the door. It’s unlocked, and we walk in to find a darkened living area, with a trail of LED lanterns. The lights lead us to a door. I can feel Marigold’s excitement. She’s practically vibrating next to me. Upon opening the door, the first burst of sound punctures the silence.

There’s a group of three giggling women in mini skirts at the bottom of the stairs. Staring them down is a tall, broad-shouldered man with an intense scowl.

“No phones or cameras allowed. Bets are made with cash only. Don’t start fights you can’t finish,” the man intones. Then he waves a handheld metal detector over the front and back of each of the women.

The no-phones rule is going to be a problem. Marigold looks at me with wide eyes that say she agrees.

“Take my phone,” she whispers, holding it out between us. “Once he passes the metal detector over me, I’ll put my hands behind my back and you can give it to me again.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work,” I say in a low voice.