I nod rapidly. “I fucking hit him.”
“You did what?” he balks. “What the hell made you think that was a good idea?”
“I had no choice! He had me and Delaney at fucking gunpoint. If it wasn’t for someone taking out Paulo outside the door, we probably both would have died.”
Zayn chokes on air. “Okay, I need a beer.”
Grayson nods toward Delaney. “How much does she know?”
“Enough to ask questions.”
“Gray, what’s going on?” Savannah’s voice is calm, concerned even.
Delaney places a hand on her hip. “That’s what I’d like to know. What the fuck was that place? And why was my uncle there?”
I sit down on the couch, watching Grayson take the seat next to me. He’s made one thing very clear, one thing I can respect—we’re in this together.
“An underground fight club of sorts,” I answer. “And he was there because he owns the place.”
She takes a breath. “A-and you kill people there?”
“Wait, you’ve killed people?” Savannah’s disbelief is evident, but I don’t pay her much mind.
“Not intentionally. The fights I was in, they were the kill-or-be-killed type. Sometimes, it happened.”
“How many?”
I swallow harshly and look away. “Four.”
A strangled whine comes from deep in her throat before she composes herself. “In that room, he said five, ‘if you include the first.’ Who was the first, Knox?”
My eyes find Grayson’s and I raise my brows at him. The next words are his and his alone.
“Savannah’s dad.”
“I’m coming!” I shout. Jesus fucking Christ.
I pull the door open with a scowl on my face, but as soon as I take in the sight in front of me, it’s gone—along with my high. Grayson Hayworth—Pretty Boy, as I like to call him—is standing on my porch. His clothes are stained a deep red, blood covering almost every inch of him. Fury radiates from his body in waves as he grips at his brown hair.
“What the fuck happened to you?”
He shakes his head. “I need your help.”
“All right, let’s just take a minute to relax.”
“I don’t have time to fucking relax, Vaughn. Are you going to help me or not?”
I raise my hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. What do you need? Other than a goddamn shower.”
Turning around, he starts walking toward his car. “You need to help me find Craig Montgomery.”
Montgomery? Savannah’s dad? It all falls into place. The shouts I’ve heard coming from that house. The police and EMS that crowded the street earlier. The blood covering practically every inch of Grayson. Her dad beats her.
“Are you coming or not?” he questions impatiently.
I reach behind me and shut the door. This can only end in disaster.
I sit in the passenger seat while Grayson flies down the road. He’s completely erratic, though I can’t say I blame him. I just hope he knows what he’s doing.