“You want to?” he asks, sounding a little more serious than he should.
“Run? I was joking.”
“Yeah, well. We’re not fucking getting anywhere, and he might…” Zach trails off, and the ball of dread already sitting in my stomach only grows.
“Just turn around and try another route. If that fails then we’ll run,” Biff says, sounding a little more rational than the two of us. “Danni, have you messaged Spike?”
“Y-yes. He said he was finishing his client and then coming to meet us.”
“Okay, good.” The fact that Zach thinks we’re going to need Spike makes my stomach turn.
“What about D?” Biff asks.
“No, don’t tell him. Not until we know what’s actually happening. He’ll lose his shit if Titch is fighting again.”
Silence fills the car as Zach turns around and tries another way.
Thankfully, other than a few temporary sets of lights to keep the traffic moving, we manage to make some progress, albeit slow.
The sun is starting to set by the time we get to the other side of the city. Zach reassures me that the fights usually start late, so there might still be a chance of catching Carter before he does something stupid.
“Well, this looks ominous,” Biff says as we drive over the giant potholes of the industrial estate the GPS directed us to.
She’s not wrong. With the sun now very low in the sky it casts a daunting orange glow over the seemingly deserted place.
“Which one is it?” Zach asks, prompting me to look at Carter’s phone once more.
“Keep driving.” He follows the track around a little until a couple of dim lights catch my eye. “There.”
It’s so weird to know that there are probably a ton of people inside, yet there are no cars or signs of life.
Zach pulls the car to a stop and the three of us jump out.
“Maybe you two should wait here.”
“And maybe you should shut the fuck up, asswipe.”
I storm past my brother towards a set of double doors that are slightly ajar.
Pulling them open, I find a single flickering bulb hanging from the ceiling. The stench of sweaty bodies and blood hits me along with a cheering crowd somewhere in the distance, and I know I’m in the right place.
I take off into the building, not knowing if Zach and Biff are behind me but equally not caring. I need to get to him. I need to stop him doing something he might regret.
I need to tell him how I feel.
My steps falter, the magnitude of those feelings slamming into me. I reach out to the wall to stop me from losing my footing.
I’d fallen for him when he was just a face online. But with one look at that real face today, I realised he was right. That photograph was the only trick; the person I was speaking to was purely Carter. It was his words, his dreams, his ideas that I fell for. Not the appearance. And although there are similarities between them, mostly their eyes, there are so many differences, and not just in appearance. Carter is kind, thoughtful and compassionate, whereas Logan today was just cruel. I could never be attracted to anyone who speaks to someone they’re meant to love like that.
The realisation of what I should be doing right now has me pushing from the wall. At the same time, Zach comes up behind me and takes my upper arms in his hands.
“Wait outside, I’ll sort this.”
“No. No, I need to do it.”
I struggle out of his hold and race forward, ignoring whatever it is he mutters at me.
As I move down the empty space, the crowd gets louder, but it does little to cover the loud thunder of my heart at not knowing what I’m about to walk into.
“I’m sorry, miss. You can’t just walk in there,” a guy I didn’t even notice hovering at the door announces. He’s huge, his wide shoulders almost filling the entire doorway.
“Uh… m-my husband. I-I t think he’s fighting.”
“Even more reason for you not to go in.”
“No, I think you’ll find that’s every reason why I should be inside.” I step up to him, wanting to prove that I’m not intimidated by his sheer size.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, only approved members are allowed in.”
“This is bullshit. Get Mickey.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Zach asks.
“He won’t let us in.”
“Zach, man. How’s it going?” I look to the Hulk’s arms. Full of ink.
“Not great, we really need to get in there. Do us a favour, would ya? I’ll do your next tat on the house?”
A conflicted look passes over his face before he glances behind him and into the chaos.
“Fine. But if I get caught, you’ll be doing more than one!”
“Thank you,” I cry, squeezing through the small gap he leaves and entering the giant space beyond.
The noise of the crowd is almost unbearable. I walk around the outskirts and I lift up onto my tiptoes in an attempt to see what’s going on in the centre, but there are too many bodies.
It’s not until I get around to the other side that there’s a gap in the sea of people and I get the briefest of glimpses of what’s going on in the centre.
“Noooo,” I scream, although I doubt anyone hears me.
I blink and he’s gone, swallowed by the crowd cheering him on.
The image of his bloody face fills my mind and tears sting my eyes. If I thought last weekend was scary, then it’s nothing compared to right now.
My legs move without me realising until I can see him once again.
I climb onto a box, a box I probably shouldn’t be on, but I don’t give a shit. I’ll do anything it takes to get him out of the ring.
My eyes find him immediately as he lays into his opponent. It’s immediately obvious how tame the fight last weekend was. This is vicious.
Both of them are covered in blood and darkening bruises as the crowd screams for more.
“Carter,” I cry, feeling totally helpless.
There’s no way he can hear me, yet not two seconds later when his opponent stumbles away, he looks up and our eyes connect. They hold for the briefest of moments, but it’s enough to see his confusion and shock before his momentary lapse of focus means he’s at a disadvantage.
His opponent crashes into him and they stumble away. Carter takes too many punches to count before he somehow manages to get control of the situation.
He moves with such intensity, such passion and determination. Even more so I’m sure since he’s seen me, and he doesn’t stop until the other guy is rolling around on the floor.
A guy steps into the ring with them and lifts Carter’s hand, announcing him as the winner. A weird sense of pride washes through me that’s he’s won, but it only lasts for the briefest of moments because Carter drops to the floor.
“Noooo,” I scream, jumping from whatever it is I’m standing on and fighting my way through the crowd.
It’s takes forever to force my way through. Everyone is too intent on watching the fallout from the fight to pay any attention to me.
When I finally get to the front after a lot of elbowing people in the ribs and standing on their toes with my heel, I run to Carter’s lifeless body.
The other guy is nowhere to be seen. It’s just the MC guy and Mickey who are standing over him, looking concerned.
I drop down on my knees, my fear ensuring I don’t notice the pain as I connect with the concrete floor.
“Carter, come on, baby. I’m here. Wake up.” I gently touch his face, taking in all his injuries before looking down to his chest and stomach. The bruising and swelling is already showing itself, but it’s the amount of blood that worries me more.
I take his wrapped, bloody hand in mine and squeeze gently as my first tears fall.
“Don’t do this, Carter. I need you. I fucking need you.”
When his voice breaks through my panic, it’s rough and barely a whisper. To start with, I think I’m imagining it.
“I’m
okay.”
“Carter, I—” My sob cuts off whatever words might have been about to fall from my lips.
Mickey says something above me about the next fight, and red hot anger fills my veins.
“You,” I say jabbing him in the chest. “What the fuck were you thinking, allowing him to do this?” I screech. “You knew he wasn’t ready for this. This is your fucking fault. If anything happens to h-him—”
“He’ll be fine.”
The flippant way he says it while Carter is flat out on the cold floor astonishes me. I guess in order to run this kind of thing, you need to be a cold-hearted bastard.
“Do you even care about any of these guys? Is this just all about money for you?”
“Dan, that’s enough,” Zach booms from behind me. “Titch needs your energy right now.”
I blow out a long breath. He’s right. Mickey doesn’t matter.
Turning my back on him, I look down at Carter, who’s staring back at me with total disbelief in his eyes.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I bark at him. My words might be harsh, but when I reach for him, my touch is anything but. “Fucking hell. I thought you… I thought you were fucking dead, Carter.”
“I’m okay,” he repeats, but the weakness of his voice doesn’t support the words in any way.
“We need to get you out of here, man,” says another voice, and when I look up, I find Spike standing behind Zach. His muscle are pulled tight, and there’s fury burning in his eyes. “Are you okay if we lift you?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
It’s a barefaced lie, we all know that, but it doesn’t stop Carter from attempting to get himself to a sitting position and for both Zach and Spike to reach down for him. The three of them are like a well-oiled machine, and it makes me wonder how many times this has happened before.
I stand back and allow them to get him to his feet.
“He’ll be okay,” Biff says. I’d forgotten that she was here, but the sound of her voice is exactly what I need.
As I turn to her, she opens her arms and I sob on her shoulder.
“You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”
“I… I…”
“It’s okay.” Her hand rubs up and down my back in support. “Come on, lets help them out.”
Biff and I hold the doors open, and finally we leave the crowd behind. Zach and Spike are carrying all of Titch’s weight by the time we’re out in the car park, and his head is hanging on his shoulders. I’ve no idea if he’s passed out or what, and it makes me panic.
“Be careful, you don’t want to hurt him more,” I snap.
“I’m okay, doll.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but I hear it loud and clear in the silence of the car park. The hustle and bustle of London might only be a few minutes away, but none of that can be heard right now. It’s eerie, and it only makes this situation seem worse.
I snort, because Carter quite clearly is anything but fine.
“Get him in the car,” Spike demands, and Biff runs around them to open the door.
I climb into the other side and gently place his head into my lap once they’ve managed to manoeuvre him inside.
My fingertip trails down his cheek. His eyes flicker open as much as the swelling will allow, and my breath catches when we connect.
“You came,” he whispers.
My heart slams against my chest as realisation of what he means floods me.
“Oh, Carter.” I run my fingers lightly over his sweat-damp hair. “You’ve no idea, do you?” I hesitate, trying to put into words just how I feel about him, but when I look to find his eyes again, they’re shut. “Carter?” Nothing. I panic, I’ve no idea if I should be allowing him to sleep right now or not, but I’m distracted when both the front doors are pulled open and Biff and Zach climb in.
“How is he?” Zach asks.
“He’s fallen asleep. Should I wake him? He probably has a concussion.”
“Leave him until we get back. Just keep an eye on him.” I nod, a huge lump forming in my throat.
Zach starts up the car at the same time the loud roar of an engine comes from beside me. When I glance out the window, I find Spike pulling on a motorcycle helmet and gunning his engine.
Zach sets off behind him and we head back into the city.
“Where are we going?” I ask when the turning to the nearest hospital comes and goes.
“Your place.”
“Zach, he needs to go to a hospital. Look at him.”
“Dan, it’s okay. We’ll get him looked at. I won’t let anything happen to him. You’ve gotta trust me.”
“Trust you? He’s passed out on my lap and covering my legs in blood.” I can only assume the last part, but there’s something suspiciously damp down there and I know it’s not from me.
“I know, I know. This freaks me out as much as it does you, I assure you. But we know what we’re doing.”
“How many times have you done this before?” I’m not sure I want the answer, but the question falls from my lips anyway.
“Too many.”
“Fucking hell,” I sigh, my head falling back for a few moments before I remember that I should be making sure Carter is still with us.
I dig around in my small clutch to find a packet of tissues so that I can attempt to stop him bleeding quite so much. I press one to his lip and the other to his eyebrow that’s once again split open, but there’s not much else I can do, and I feel totally useless.
Running my eyes down his body, I take in the emerging bruises that seem to cover his entire torso. There’s blood there too, but I’m sure it’s just sprayed from his face and probably from the other guy’s fists.
My stomach turns over at the thought of another man slamming his curled fists into what’s mine.
Mine.
I find his face once more, and for the first time since I met the real Carter, I allow everything I feel for him out. A sob bubbles up my throat, and I fight to keep the words in that I want to tell him.
“Is he okay?” Zach asks in a rush from the front.
“Y-yeah. Nothing’s changed.”
“Why the sudden tears?”
“It’s… nothing. I’m just a bit emotional.”
I notice Biff’s hand come out to rest on Zach’s thigh, and I’m grateful that she’s stopping him from asking any more questions. I might have admitted to Biff how I’m feeling, but the first person I need to tell is Carter, not my brother.
Silence descends on the car. It’s heavy and oppressive, but at least it means I can hear Carter’s low breathing loud and clear.
I keep my hands on him, hoping that he can feel my presence. Feel my support. My love.
Before too long, we’re pulling up in front of my flat. Thankfully, there’s a space right out the front and Zach parks quickly before killing the engine.
There are lights on in Harrison’s house above, and dread sits heavy in my stomach. I hope to God that they don’t look out of their window in the next ten minutes. That is not the way I need them to be reintroduced to Carter.
I breath out a sigh as the rumble of Spike’s bike comes to a stop behind us somewhere and Zach and Biff step out.
Their muffled voices filter into me for a few seconds before the doors open and we somehow manage to get Carter from the car.
With Carter’s body hanging limply between Zach and Spike, we slowly make our way down to my flat. Thankfully, no one comes rushing from upstairs, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The last thing we need right now is our older brother getting involved.
“Danni,” Spike barks halfway to my bedroom. “Open Titch’s phone. Find Doc and call him. Tell him what’s happened and give him your address.”
“Uh… okay.” I pull his phone from my bag and do as I’m told. It’s not until the call connects that I question who the hell I might be about to talk to.
“Yes,” a deep male voice says down the line.
“Um, hi. I’ve got C-Carter… um… Titch
Wright. He’s been in a fight and—”
“Motherfucker. Where are you?”
I rattle off my address. “I’ll be there in twenty.” The line goes dead before I get to say any more.
“Who was that?” Biff asks.
“I’ve no idea, but we’re going to meet him in twenty minutes.”
“Right.”
Putting his phone down, I rush through to the bedroom. The guys have Carter laid out in the centre of my bed. They’ve removed his shoes but are otherwise just standing and staring at him in total disbelief.
“What happened, man?” Spike asks softly, in the hope that Carter will wake up and explain, but sadly nothing happens. His chest is still rising and falling evenly, so I guess there is that.
“I’ll get my first-aid kit then. Start cleaning him up.”
Zach nods as he takes the chair in my room. Spike falls on to the edge of the bed and drops his head into his hands. I might not know all that much about Carter’s previous roommate, but it’s becoming more than clear how much Spike cares for him.
I retrieve the box that until Carter moved in was mostly untouched and fill a bowl with warm water. When I re-join them in the bedroom, the scent of coffee floats through the air and I glance into the kitchen as I pass the door to find Biff busy getting mugs down from the cupboard.
Crawling onto the bed, I place everything on the bedside table and come to a stop beside him. I dip a cotton ball into the warm water and begin gently wiping his face. In only seconds, the bowl of water is pink with his blood, but at least he’s starting to look a little better.
None of us say anything—we’re too lost in our own heads—but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel the weight of their burning stares as I clean their friend up.
When Spike’s voice breaks the silence, it’s so loud it makes me startle.
“You’re really good for him,” he muses.
“I’m not so sure that’s true. Look at him.”
“That wasn’t because of you.”
“Wasn’t it?” I can’t help wondering if it was the fear, the shame from his brother’s words that led him to this more than it was the words themselves. He’s clearly been hiding that part of his life, his struggles, from me. He didn’t want me to know, and the second I found out, he ran and did this.
Trick You: A Brother's Best Friend Romance (Rebel Ink Book 2) Page 22