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This is the kind of thing I usually live for. My dad used to bring me to fights all the time when I was a teenager, and Scarlett and I kept up the tradition when we got older, hanging out in gyms and underground fighting rings to watch people beat the shit out of each other for fun and prizes.
I love the thrill of watching and being in the ring myself, but right now, all I can think about is my dad and the bad memories this place has for me.
It’s like everything is layered over with a film of what happened before, and everywhere I look, there’s another piece of the shitty puzzle that got me here.
A tall man pushes through the crowd off to my left, and I remember catching sight of Levi that night, flanked by Sloan and Rory, back before I knew who they were.
Scarlett drooled all over herself at the sight of them, and even now, after everything, I can’t quite blame her for that. They’re still stupidly hot.
Red Hair aims a punch for Man Bun’s face, and it connects solidly, the sound ringing out even over the cheers from the audience.
It’s a clean hit, and it makes me think about how my dad was losing so badly at first in his last fight. I was so worried he was going to lose or get hurt, and I had no idea he was supposed to lose on purpose.
Clearly, he started with the intention to follow through on his promise to throw the fight, or maybe he just wanted it to look like he had, before he changed it up and came through to win.
And I was so proud when he was announced the victor. So excited for him, cheering and stomping my feet because my dad had come back from behind to turn the tables and win. Even though there was no way I could’ve known what was really going on, I feel stupid looking back on it now.
I was happy he won.
Happy about something that ended up blowing both our lives into smithereens.
I shake my head, trying to clear those thoughts from my mind. I don’t want to go down that path again. I don’t want the crushing weight of grief to slam down on me while I’m here, of all places.
Instead, I go back to watching the fight, tracking the movements and defense of both fighters.
“So what’s the deal with this fight?” I ask the guys, pitching my voice loud enough that they can hear me. I assume we’re not just here to watch a fight for shits and giggles. That doesn’t seem like how things work.
“We bet on this one,” Levi says. “It’s the first bet we’ve made with the Jackals since all that shit went down. And we need to make sure everything’s on the up and up. No cheating and all.”
“It’s not as big as the one for the church,” Rory adds. “But we’ve still got a vested interest in winning.”
I doubt anyone’s going to double-cross them this time. Hell, I still can’t believe my dad did it, and I wish there was a chance to ask him what the fuck he was thinking when he did it. He had to have known it was going to come back and bite him in the ass.
It’s a little hypocritical of them to be so worried about cheating from the Jackals when they’re clearly not above manipulating the outcome of a fight themselves, but I keep that thought to myself.
As the fight continues, a familiar face in the crowd catches my eye, and I turn my head to see Paul working his way through the throng to find a place to stand. He’s a good bit away from us, and I stare at him for a second before averting my eyes, kind of hoping he doesn’t see me.
I don’t know if I should point him out to the guys or not. I shouldn’t have any idea who he is, technically, so saying something could lead to questions that I don’t have any good answers for. It’s probably better to just leave it alone, even if it does get my guard up.
That little voice in the back of my head pipes up that something is probably going on here, but before I have to make a decision one way or another, Sloan swears under his breath.
We all look to him, and he nods his head in the direction of Paul, but a bit off from where I was looking.
“Jackals,” he mutters under his breath.
“Shit. What the fuck are they doing here?” Rory asks, looking over our heads like he’s trying to count how many there are.
I open my mouth to suggest that maybe they’re doing the same thing the Black Roses are doing and just trying to make sure the fight stays on the up and up, but then press my lips together before any words come out. Jumping to the Jackals’ defense is probably not the best idea here.
The fight is still going on in the ring, the two contenders doing their best to beat the shit out of each other, and pretty much everyone is focused on that.
And then gunshots ring out in the warehouse.
Several loud pops fill the air, and screams and shouts rise up immediately after. My muscles tense, adrenaline flooding my veins in a rush as I glance around quickly, trying to figure out exactly where the shots came from.
Another gunshot cuts over the noise, and the chaos intensifies.
It’s impossible to fire a weapon in a crowd this dense and not have people lose their fucking minds in panic, and it’s basically a stampede as hundreds of people try to squeeze out the doors at once, jostling each other and pushing to try to get to the front before more shots echo around us.
