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“Depends on whether Theo is the one getting his head kicked in,” she deadpans, making Seb snigger beside me.
“Probably not, but I can offer you two randomers going at it.”
“I guess I’ll have to take that, then. So what is this, some underground mafia shit?”
“No,” Seb answers. “You ever heard of The Circuit?”
“Holy shit, we’re going to a Circuit fight?” she asks, suddenly sounding more excited than I’ve ever heard her. “You guys get invites?”
“Sure do.”
“Lucky arseholes. I’ve been trying to get on the list for-fucking-ever.”
“Clearly you have the wrong contacts.”
Emmie’s eyes meet mine in the mirror. Her gratitude for me not telling Seb who she is is clear in her eyes.
The ride to the venue is short, and seconds after parking in the makeshift lot out the back of the derelict hotel, the three of us climb out of the car.
“Are you okay leaving it out here?” I ask, looking around at the beat-up cars and bikes around us.
“Yeah, no one would dare touch it.” Other than him. Seb doesn’t need to say those words. I hear them loud and clear.
“There are a lot of bikes here,” Emmie comments, her eyes scanning the array of models.
“The Circuit pulls in fighters from the local MC as well as us and a few other organizations.”
“Organizations?” Emmie asks with a raised brow.
“Fine. Gangs. Better?”
“Much. Let’s just call it as it is, yeah? So, a room full of bloodthirsty bikers and mafia. What could possibly go wrong tonight?” she asks lightly as we make our way to a door that’s being guarded by a couple of leather-cut-wearing scary dudes.
Seb goes on ahead, clearly recognizing them, and Emmie steps into my side.
“This might have been a really bad idea,” she whispers, pulling the hood up as if she feels the need to hide.
“How many members of the club do you know?”
“Not many, but a lot know me.”
“Shit,” I hiss, realizing that I might not have thoroughly thought this through. “You want to be here though, right?”
“Hell yes! I’ve been begging my uncle to come for ages, but apparently, I’m too young and innocent or some bullshit.”
I can’t help but snort a laugh. “Does your uncle know you at all?”
“I think it’s more that he’s scared of my dad’s reaction, to be honest. Dad doesn’t know I’ve been hanging out with Cruz, and he’ll kill me if he finds out.”
“If?” I ask.
“Okay, when. I just… ugh… I want to know who I am. My history.”
“Trust me, I get that. So we spend the night in the shadows.”
“Or I just man up and tell the guys who I really am. Do you really think they don’t know?”
“Seb clearly doesn’t,” I whisper.
