by Bella Jewel
When we reach him, he studies us. “Harold,” he says to Blondie, “got good money on Pax tonight. Hear he’s the favorite. Fuckin’ scumbag, but hope he takes it out.”
Good. They know each other.
“I’ve got a lot on him,” Blondie, who was clearly named Harold, mutters. “Got a fuckin’ lot of debts to pay off, so countin’ on it.”
“Who’s the ladies?” the big man asks, studying us with a deep narrow of his eyes.
“Ass, you know how it is. They’re with Knight, but we’re borrowing them for a few hours.” He winks, and I want to punch him in the balls.
“Knight, huh,” Bouncer mutters, “Been a long time since I’ve seen him around here. Not since his last fight, I believe.”
“Might be makin’ a comeback.” Harold nods, rubbing his chin as if that’s an utterly brilliant idea.
“Fuckin’ put money on him if he was. Man was deadly.”
I didn’t know Slater fought here. I mean, I know he fought with Lincoln, but not here. I guess his life was a little darker than people realized.
We keep moving, and I breathe a sigh of relief when we climb down into the hole without getting busted. Lucy gives me a sideways look, and we lower ourselves down into the arena below.
I was right, a basement, only it’s decked out with a massive cage, people standing all around it. Inside that cage, the floor is stained with blood, dark, red, covering the ground. Old and new. God. That’s disgusting. I want to vomit at the very sight, but I keep it together and follow the men, sticking close to Lucy and keeping my eye out for the other guys.
We stop in a dark corner, and Harold tries to put his hand on my ass. I want to smack him, but I know I can’t cause a scene, so I give him a sexy smile and purr, “Later, honey, let’s watch this first, get our blood racing.”
He gives me a very pleased grin. Hopefully that’ll keep his wandering hands at bay.
The place fills up, and I catch sight of the men over on the other side, currently talking to a few other guys, all leaning in close, clearly more interested in that then what’s about to happen inside this god awful cage. Haven’t they ever heard of a cleaner? Maybe someone to give the floors a little wash.
After about ten or so minutes, the crowd starts getting a whole lot more excited as a man walks out into the middle of the cage, he addresses everyone, and then introduces the fights for the night. Pax and Raptor. People are yelling out, god knows what, names mixed with other insults and profanities. I shuffle closer to Lucy, heart racing, feeling a little unwell if I’m being honest, and grab her hand. She squeezes mine and gives me a look.
She’s nervous too.
I’ve never been to a fight before.
I’ve always wanted to go see one of Lincoln’s, but they don’t like women down there. So, I guess this will have to do.
“You all know the rules,” the man yells. “You make your bets, you scream your fuckin’ lungs out, and you do not ever fuckin’ get in the cage. Any violence outside the cage will be dealt with, with a heavy hand. Now, stand up, start screamin’, and get blood thirsty. It’s time to die.”
Jesus.
That’s a little bit much.
Two men come out into the cage, one hand in the air, making the crowd go so wild it’s deafening. I want to put my hands over my ears, but I don’t, I just move closer to Lucy and watch, in horrified fascination, as the two men begin to fight.
It starts out like any other fight, fists flying, legs kicking, bodies slamming. Blood splatters from busted lips and split cheeks.
Then, the man they call Pax, rips the Raptor’s ear off. With his teeth. Just like that. Blood fills the arena floor, and I want to be sick. What the ever loving hell kind of fight is this?
It makes the crowd go wilder, screaming and chanting, “Kill him, Pax.”
Kill him?
Oh god.
I look to Lucy, and she’s just figured it out, too.
This isn’t a normal fight. This is a death match.
One of those men … they’re going to die tonight.
What the hell have we done?
~*~*~*~
“We have to get out of here, now,” I whisper yell into Lucy’s ear.
She nods, and her eyes dart around the room. How the ever loving fuck are we going to get out of this hell hole? The fight goes on, and the sickening sounds of bones snapping and skin splitting makes me want to vomit. I can’t look. I won’t look. Because I know what I’ll see over there will never be removed from my mind.
We need to get out, and we need to do it now.
My skin prickles with fear and adrenaline and pure horror at what I just saw. But I keep it together, I keep it together because I have to. One sign of panic, and people will know we don’t belong here.
They’ll know there is something off.
And we’ll be risking our lives.
“I’ve got a plan,” I tell her, “Follow my lead.”
She nods, and we make our way to the exit out, dodging people that are screaming blood-thirsty screams, throwing their hands in the air as they watch a life brutally ripped from another person. Sick, it’s sick. The very thought makes me want to vomit, but I hold it in. The sounds, I already know, are sounds that I’ll remember for the rest of my damned life. You don’t forget sounds like that.
Crunching bones.
Sickening splits of skin.
Blood splatter.
Agonized growls of pain.
Horror.
Pure, raw horror.
We reach the top of the entrance and climb out, but we’re immediately stopped by the huge bouncer dude that let us in. “What the hell are you two leavin’ for? Came to get the information you needed, did you?”
He thinks we’re cops. This can’t get any worse, right?
“My friend is going to vomit,” I slur, praying Lucy plays along. “Didn’t think you’d want us to mess the ground up in there, even more.” I giggle. “Pax is winning, by the way.”
Lucy, as if on command, starts gagging and dry retching, hanging onto me like she’s so drunk she can barely stand.
“Fuck, get that bitch out of here before I’m forced to clean her fuckin’ mess. Move. And don’t come back if you can’t hold your liquor.”
I purposefully scowl at him, and then we stumble out the door, Lucy still doing a damned great performance gagging. When we’re out in the open, we practically sprint to the car, both of us wanting to get the hell out of here. Honestly, I’m surprised we even got out of that fight without problems. I purely think it was because the people in there were so fixated on the death match in front of them, they weren’t paying any attention to anything else around them.
Monsters.
All of them.
When we get in the car, Lucy starts it and we get the hell out of there. For about ten minutes, we both just stare out the windshield. We fucked up following the guys, we know we did, but we didn’t honestly believe we’d find that. No, we thought maybe a fight, maybe something else a bit juicy, but not that. Never that.
“I feel sick,” Lucy whispers. “I keep swallowing to stop it from coming up, because damn it wants to.”
“I know how you feel,” I tell her.
“Death match,” she whispers. “I didn’t … I wouldn’t have ever dreamed that would be what we walked into. It was awful, I can’t stop hearing the sounds of human men being beaten to death, in the most horrific ways.”
“Me, too,” I whisper.
“What are we going to tell Ellie and Shania? I know they’ll be horrified to know their men went to a death match. Shit.” She glances at me quickly. “How do you feel?”
How do I feel?
About Finn watching a death match?
Sick.
Betrayed.
Mostly, like I don’t know him.
I don’t, do I? Not really.
He told me everything was fine—last time I checked, going to a fucking death match was not fine, far from it.
Is Finn a liar?
Have I truly been wasting my time with him?
“I don’t know,” I tell Lucy. “I don’t honestly know what to think. I don’t know why they were there, I’m not sure I honestly care. Either way, the fact that they can watch that makes me sick to my stomach. Worse, Finn lied about it. Not that I can imagine him telling me about something like that, but still, he lied and I don’t like the world he’s clearly involved in. So, I don’t feel very fucking good right now.”
“Do you think we should tell the other girls?”
I look at her. “Yes, I think we should tell them. They have a right to know.”
“You’re right, they do, I just hate upsetting happy relationships.”
“Their men attended a death match, pretty sure they made the choice to do that and not tell their girlfriends, they can suffer the consequences.”
Am I speaking out of anger?
Do I really think those men are bad?
Of course. I know they aren’t.
But, right now, whatever they’re involved with, it’s not good.
It’s so bad.
And it’s dangerous.
Everyone has a right to know if the man they’re seeing could potentially get them into a dangerous situation.
Everyone.
Sorry, guys, your secret is not safe.
Not anymore.
17
FINN
Fucking no.
Seen a lot of shit in my time, what I never expected to fucking see was the woman I’m seeing sneaking out of a fucking death match. She thinks I wouldn’t recognize her, because she’s all messed up and trying to fit in. I’d recognize her in a fucking crowded place with my eyes closed. Fuck, that’s how easy she is to see to me.
There she was, rushing out, Lucy by her side.
Followed.
She fucking followed me.
Rage, rage unlike anything I’ve ever felt courses through my veins. I told her this had nothing to do with her, told her everything was fine, but she didn’t believe me. She thought I was fucking lying, when all I was doing was trying to protect her. Now she thinks I’m into some sort of sick, twisted fucking shit, like this death match, but she has no idea.
She took this story and twisted it her way.
And I’m wild.
Fuck, I’m so fucking angry I want to explode.
We all saw them but were too far away to get out and catch them. By the time we would have pushed through the crowd, they would have been gone. Everyone is silent once the fight is done and we’re back in the truck. Everyone fucking furious, angry, but mostly fucking confused as to why they would decide to follow us all the way out here. What fucking purpose?
“Got a lot of things to fuckin’ say to those women,” Lincoln growls, “but mostly I want to rip their fuckin’ heads off, I’m so angry.”
A slight over exaggeration, but I can’t say I blame him.
The anger bubbling in my chest is going to explode, and I know exactly who will cop the blast.
Erin.
Fucking Erin.
She doesn’t trust me. She thinks I’m something I’m not.
If that’s the case, why fucking waste her time with me?
I don’t like being strung along as much as the next fucking man.
“Gotta wonder what the fuck was goin’ through their heads to follow us out here,” Slater growls. “What the fuck were they thinkin’?”
“Erin doesn’t trust me, would have been her idea,” I say from the back, my voice a low whip, my body tight with anger.
“Think Ellie overheard me on the phone, got a feelin’ she was close by when I heard a noise,” Slater tells us. “They must have all put somethin’ together and figured we were up to no good and decided to have us followed.”
“Shania better not be in on this, so help me fuckin’ god,” Lincoln snaps.
“We’ll find out, after we tear them a fuckin’ new ass,” Slater hisses. “Fuckin’ stupidity of them. How the fuck they even got in …”
“They’re smart,” I say. “They’re pretty. All they had to do was latch onto some of the men going in and they would have gotten through.”
“Still wouldn’t be that easy, death matches are usually highly monitored. They would have had to use a name …” Slater throws out. “Probably fuckin’ mine.”
“Smart if they thought that much into it,” Brody adds, his voice low. “Surprised they managed to get this far.”
“They’ll never unsee that,” I growl. “Goin’ to fuckin’ haunt them forever.”
“They made the choice to follow us,” Lincoln rasps, voice gone beyond anger.
He’s wild.
Can’t blame him.
He doesn’t handle his anger all that well.
Shania would want to hope she wasn’t involved, because if she was, she’s going to see Lincoln’s wrath in a way she’s probably not experienced.
And Erin … fucking Erin.
She and I, we’re going to have words.
Big words.
Fucking angry words.
Then … then, we’re done.
~*~*~*~
“So, what happened?” Damon asks as we all sit around after the fight, drinking beer.
Trying to unwind.
Trying to calm down.
Trying, very fucking hard, not to lose our shit.
“What happened is fuckin’ Lucy and Erin followed us, no doubt saw somethin’ that scared the fuckin’ life out of them, and now we’re trying to work out how not to lose our shit.”
Damon’s eyes widen. “Lucy went there?”
“You and Lucy a thing?” I ask him, raising my brows.
Didn’t even know they were fucking friends, let alone a thing.
“No.” He shakes his head, casually. “No, we’re friends. I’m not lookin’ for a woman, clearly it’s provin’ they do nothin’ but cause problems.”
I snort. “You’re right about that.”
“Outside of all this shit,” Lincoln says, taking a long drink of his beer, “what did we find out tonight? Anything?”
“Got a start,” Brody says, lighting a cigarette and taking a long draw before continuing. “Not a name, like I wanted, but did get the name of someone who would know, so I’m goin’ to start on findin’ that someone.”
“Looked up your man’s old name,” Damon says. “Did some research. Disappeared off the face of the earth about seven years ago. Just fuckin’ magically vanished, which would be right in line with him changin’ his name. Got some family members, if you’re interested in talkin’ to them.”
Brody nods. “Fuck yes I am. Send them to me.”
“Be nice,” Slater mutters, “Don’t want to fuckin’ cause a shit storm in your wake.”
“He’ll find out I’m comin’,” Brody says, voice hard. “Mark my words on that, but I won’t hurt anyone else gettin’ to him.”
“So when you find out, you’re honestly goin’ to challenge him to a death match?” I ask, still fucking pissed at the stupid idea.
“Yeah,” Brody says, as if it doesn’t bother him at all that he’s going to fight someone to the death.
Did he not fucking see the horror there tonight? The cracking bones? The blood splatter? The brutal way Pax took that poor fucker down. It was fucking gory, and I have a strong stomach. I’d never want to experience that shit again, let alone fight in one. We did walk away with a fucking lot of cash, I’ll give it that much, but it’s not enough to risk your life, not in my opinion.
I don’t think Brody cares. That’s the scary part.
Money. No money.
He just wants vengeance and he’ll stop and nothing to get it.
Fucking nothing.
“What about the money?” I ask him, staring down at my phone when I see Indi’s name flash on the screen.
Fucking not now.
“What about it?” Brody asks.
“Said you need it.”
“I do.”
“What for?”
“Personal reasons.”
My guess is for whoever Melanie is that’s tattooed on his finger. He wants it for her, probably in case he dies. Fucking poor woman, she’s probably sitting there right now, terrified out of her mind. Hell, that’s if she even knows where he is. Maybe they’re not even together anymore. Who fucking knows? All I know is she obviously meant, or still does mean, something to him.
She isn’t what’s driving him, though.
He’s fighting this fight for someone else.
Someone else important to him.
He wants this man dead, because he wants peace for another ugly part of his life.
“You goin’ to answer that?” Lincoln asks, nodding at my phone.
I glance down to see Indi calling again.
“Fuckin’ no.”
“She’s pregnant, bro,” Slater says, giving me a hard stare.
“She says she’s fuckin’ pregnant. With Indi, who knows what’s fuckin’ true. I’ll call her back soon.”
“Should learn to keep it wrapped,” Damon says, giving me a grin to say he’s joking.
He knows I’m safe.
Knows me better than anyone.
“You should try getting some, period,” I throw back at him.
He chuckles. “Could get fuckin’ plenty, Finn. Don’t doubt it.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“Because,” he says, leaning back and crossing his ankles, all casual and happy, like he always is, “I like a life drama free.”
“Smart man,” Brody mutters. “Gotta make a call.”
He stands and disappears outside. When he’s gone, Lincoln looks to me. “You sure you know what you’re doin’ helpin’ him out?”
“Fuck no,” I admit. “Don’t know what I’m doin’, all I know is he needs help, or he’ll get himself killed. He’s a good man—broken, but good.”
“I’ll do the best I can to get him ready for a fight like that,” Lincoln says. “But gotta know, brother, I stand by my word when I say I’m not fuckin’ watchin’ him fight. That shit tonight made my stomach fuckin’ twist. It’s inhumane.”
“How’d you spend so many years watchin’ it?” Damon asks Slater, sort of changing the conversation.