Even if a monster is on the receiving end.
People around me start wincing at how brutal Creigh’s blows are. Some girls even look to be on the verge of vomiting.
Then, in the middle of all the noise, cheering, booing, and utter chaos, Killian reaches out for Creigh’s face and taps. Twice.
The crowd is stunned to silence, and then ours roars at the news of victory. But some release a breath of relief.
Nikolai curses, Remi curses, and even the announcer curses.
“Damn. That’s the end of that, ladies and gents. The King wins!”
Killian turns with ease, even though his whole body is bruised.
Creigh grabs him by the arm. “Don’t fucking tap out. Let’s continue.”
“If we continue, I’ll kill you.” He levels him with a glare. “Back. Off.”
Creigh seems bent on his decision, but I’m thankful for Remi, who grabs him and forces him to calm all that excessive adrenaline.
My heart hammers as Killian slips from the ring. I don’t wait for him to come and find me, so I mumble an intelligible “I gotta go” to Ava, then bolt out of there.
Creigh is fine, so that bastard has nothing to threaten me with.
And I sure as hell am not going to stick around to witness his craziness in full glory.
I wrap my sweater around my middle and hasten my footsteps out of the fighting club.
As soon as I’m above ground, I breathe in a harsh intake of air. I’m still shaking and I don’t think I can stop that reaction.
It’s not until I’m in the car park that I realize we came in Ava’s car and unless I’m ready to go back in there, I have no ride.
Whatever, I’ll call an Uber.
I’m ready to lay my head on Cecily’s lap and let her tell me all sorts of psychological shit just so I can forget.
Or maybe I can paint something.
An engine revs behind me and I step to the side to give way to the car. But it swerves in front of me and I yelp as it comes to a sudden halt.
It’s a bright red Aston Martin that appears to be a custom—something my uncle would collect in his motor collection.
The driver’s door flings open and a larger-than-life shadow staggers out of it.
My heart stops when he drags his fingers through his hair, his jaw clenching. “Last I checked, we had a ride to go on, didn't we?”
9
GLYNDON
Red drips onto the concrete.
Dark.
Ominous.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I follow the direction from which the blood is pouring and pause.