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And sure as shit, not two minutes into the fourth round, Joker goes down and taps out.
The entire room goes crazy as Xander is announced as the winner, including Emmie, who screams bloody murder in my ear.
Although the shrieks of excitement soon turn to those of fear when a series of shots ring out before a loud explosion on the other side of the room makes the entire building shake around us.
My heart jumps into my throat as chaos ensues.
I’ve never seen people move so fast in my entire life as those not used to this kind of violence run full-speed to the only staircase to escape.
“Come on, let’s go,” Seb shouts, dragging me from the crate.
My heart is pounding in my ears as I reach for Emmie, but she’s already moving.
“Window,” Seb booms, taking my trembling hand and running in the opposite direction to everyone else.
Smoke fills the room faster than I thought possible as Seb drags us straight into the thick of it.
“I fucking hope you know where you’re going,” I scream at him, my eyes stinging and my lungs burning as I fight not to breathe it in.
“Don’t I always?”
Gunshots somewhere dangerously close behind us cut off any kind of response I might have had.
I look back, but we’ve been engulfed by smoke. The only thing I can make out in the distance is the bone-chilling sight of huge orange flames.
“Emmie?” I scream, realizing that she’s no longer beside me. “Seb, we’ve lost Emmie.”
He comes to a stop and places his hands on my waist.
“I’m getting you out, baby,” he says firmly, his voice rough from the effects of the smoke on his throat.
“No, we need to—”
“No,” he barks in a tone that stops me from arguing. “I’m going to lift you. There’s a window, crawl through it, take my car and go home. Lock yourself in.”
“I’m not leaving you here.”
“Do as you’re told, Hellion.”
His eyes hold mine, and I know I’ve got no choice but to comply—if for no other reason than we’re going to suffocate if we stay here any longer.
Shoving his keys into my purse, he lifts me until I can place my feet on his shoulders and locate the window he mentioned.
It’s fucking tiny, to the point that I have no idea if I’ll actually be able to squeeze through it or not.
Reaching for the latch, I try to wiggle it free but it doesn’t budge.
“Fuck. It won’t open,” I shout.
“Smash it. Do anything.”
My hands tremble and my head begins to spin from the smoke inhalation, and it’s only getting worse being higher up.
Black spots appear in my vision as I fumble with my purse, trying to grab my gun.
I can barely grip it hard enough, but I aim in the right direction and shoot, the glass instantly shattering before me.
“What the fuck?”
