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CARTER
Itried to concentrate on the different turns with the blindfold on, but I couldn’t keep up. Nikolai and the guy up front, whose name was Wheeler, talked about football the entire time. Wheeler was only a couple of years older than me and Nikolai and had closely shaved blond hair and a thick British accent. I was hoping they’d talk about something important, but that didn’t happen.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, but I couldn’t look at it yet. Hopefully, it was Emma saying she was at the gym. Scar might have said he’d leave Emma out of this shit, but I didn’t believe a fucking word that came out of his mouth. I didn’t trust that she was safe or he wouldn’t use her to get something out of me.
The vehicle stopped, and Nikolai got out. “We’re here.” The back door ripped open, but he didn’t touch me. Smart man. “Get out and take the blindfold off,” he grumbled impatiently. I stepped out and slid the black cloth off my eyes. Nikolai glared at me, clearly annoyed by the scowl on his face. “Start walking, Reynolds.”
Keeping my head forward, I walked toward the front door of the white brick mansion with Wheeler to my right and Nikolai close behind. When I stepped inside, it was the same house as last night. Instead of going down the left hallway to the study, Wheeler motioned for me to follow him down the opposite hall. We walked past the kitchen and down a service hallway to a door. Wheeler opened it to reveal a set of stairs that descended into a basement.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the air, and I already knew what I would see when I took the last step. The room was darkly lit with concrete walls and tiny slivers of windows, and was designed as a fighting gym with weight benches, punching bags, and treadmills. There wasn’t a fighting ring, but in the middle of the room was a large mat where the two suited guys from last night were sparring each other. Scar—dressed in another expensive suit—looked on from the other side of the room with another man covered in head-to-toe tattoos from what I could tell. There wasn’t a single inch of his skin that didn’t have ink on it.
Scar noticed us and walked over. “Good. You’re here. We can get started.”
“On what?” I asked blandly.
He smiled. “Your contract. Follow me.”
Nikolai and Wheeler stayed back while I followed Scar over to the corner of the room set up like a tattoo shop with a table and all the equipment. The tattooed guy sat down in the chair by the table and turned on the power supply to his machine.
Scar pointed at the table. “If you still want to do this, take off your shirt.”
I peered over at the two men sparring, and on their backs were dragon tattoos. Lifting my shirt, I tossed it on the table before lying down on my stomach. “I’m good. Let’s get this shit over with.”
The tattoo guy prepped my skin and got to work, the needles piercing my skin like tiny jackhammers. I loved the feel of it; that was why I had so much ink to begin with. However, I knew I’d be on the table for hours so he could mark me with the large dragon.
Scar leaned against the wall and watched his men spar on the mat. From what I could tell, they were good brawlers, but they lacked longevity and endurance. Nikolai watched them from across the room before taking off his shirt and joining them; he also had the dragon tattoo on his back.
“When do I fight?” I asked.
Tilting his head to the side, Scar pursed his lips. “I’m starting you off with in-house fights next week, the same kind of fighting your buddy Rushing organizes at his club in Vegas. You’ll be in the ring every single night.” He smirked and side-eyed me. “Unless you want to recruit your friends.”
Clenching my fists, I shot him a fiery glare. “Not gonna fucking happen.”
Scar shrugged me off. “Hope your body can handle the stress.”
I wasn’t worried about it. Even if I had to fight for hours at a time, I wouldn’t let them beat me. “So, no fighting to the death?” I wondered.
He let out a throaty laugh. “Not yet. That starts next weekend for you. Nikolai has the main fight tomorrow, and I want you there. I’ll have someone come pick you up. It won’t be here.”
That was where he’d gotten smart. When he ran the Dark Side, it was in one location. Now with him holding the fights in different places he’d be less likely to get busted. Turning my attention to the mat, I focused on Nikolai and how he moved. He was quick on his feet and a hard puncher, his technique aggressive and bold.
“Is he your best fighter?”
Scar followed my line of sight and nodded. “He is. His family are the kind of people you don’t want to mess with. They’re the ones supplying the men you’ll be fighting against.”
And now it all made sense. “Basically, your fighters do the dirty work for them.”
Scar pulled out his phone and then slid it back into his pocket. “Guess you can put it that way. They do their part, and I do mine.”
I went back to studying Nikolai’s style. “Am I fighting him at some point?”
“No,” Scar barked, his tone hard. I looked up at him, and he shook his head. “You two are not to step in the ring together.”
Eyes narrowed, I stared at him, wondering why he was so adamant. “Why?”
Scar huffed. “Because you two are the best I got. I can’t have one of you taking out the other.”
“Who’s better?”
He peered down at me and lifted his shoulders. “That’s why I can’t let you fight. I honestly don’t know who would win.” His phone rang, and he walked away.
Nikolai continued to spar with the two men, and his tactics were brutal. One day, he and I would take the mat; it was inevitable.
One thing was for certain. I can’t lose.
