JJ crosses the room and goes to a wet bar, then pours himself a drink. My heart rate increases, and I can feel my pulse throbbing in my neck. With every passing second, I’m becoming more feral, angrier, and more agitated. After he sips his scotch on the rocks, he grabs a slip of paper and a pen from the counter and scribbles. He walks toward me and folds it in half before handing it over.
“Losing isn’t an option if you don’t wanna die,” he warns, and I snatch it from his grasp and walk toward the door. Tyler follows me.
“I fucking hate that guy,” I seethe as we step onto the elevator and go to the bottom floor.
“Me too. I’m sure there’s a club we can join. He’ll eventually cross the wrong person,” Tyler suggests with a shrug. “Guys like that usually get what’s coming to them.”
“We can only hope.” We step out and go to the truck. Once inside, Tyler programs in the address. Tyler starts the engine, and instead of putting it in drive, he turns and looks at me.
“If you’re gonna back out, now is the time.”
I tilt my head at Tyler. “They’ll never let me be free if I do that.” I’ll always be on the run, and that’s no life for Maddie.”
“You’re right, but just giving you the option,” he says, shrugging.
“This is my only option,” I tell him assertively.
During the drive, I text Maddie, wanting her to know how much I love her. Losing means losing her forever, and that thought will be what drives me forward tonight. So much rides on me being able to walk away from all of this. After twenty minutes, we turn into an area with rows of metal buildings. It looks like it’s a bunch of old storage warehouses in an industrial area. Tyler parks as close as he can but is still a distance away.
“Every single person who walks through the door is being searched, so no guns get inside. We should probably try to enter another way so no one sees you beforehand.” He unbuckles, pulls his cell phone from his pocket, and checks it, then tucks it inside.
“They’re just going to let us walk in, no problem?” I ask, confused.
He grins, grabbing the duffel bag he packed with extra towels, tape, and water. “Everyone knows who you are, Liam. They’re expecting you.”
A chill runs down the length of my spine, and I swallow. “I guess they are.”
We get out of the truck and walk the distance. On the other side, there’s an entrance that’s being guarded by a dude who looks like he could crush bones with his bare hands. I’m a big guy, but compared to him, I’m small. After a rough pat down, we’re allowed inside, which is nothing more than a long, low-lit hallway with doors on either side. Tyler leads us forward, and I can’t help but randomly turn around and check behind us. It’s creepy as fuck being in this building that smells like engine oil and dirt.
Voices travel down the hallway, and soon, the noise from the crowd becomes more audible. We continue forward until the hallway opens to a large arena. The lighting is still shit, and puffs of smoke from cigarettes linger in the air. I see the ring that’s protected by crowd-control barricades to ensure no one gets in the ring who isn’t supposed to. Folding chairs surround it, while most of the room stands, giving the onlookers the perfect view to watch someone die.
Tyler scans the crowd and lifts his hand in a wave. A minute later, a guy with blond hair and green eyes comes over to us. This must be who Tyler has been getting intel from. He looks Irish like he’s related to the O’Learys.
“Lance,” Tyler says, giving him a hard pat on the back.
The guy shakes my hand, then looks back and forth between us.
“What have you found out?” Tyler asks.
“Not much. I’ve heard rumors,” he informs.
My face contorts. “About what?”
“Who you’ll be fighting,” Lance confirms.
“Why?” I shake my head. “Does it matter?”
Lance shrugs. “I guess it doesn’t since you’re prepared to fight anyway. But apparently, a nickname was used, so those who were betting would know who your opponent was.”
“When will we know for sure if it’s him?” Tyler asks, and I suspect he has an idea who I’ll be up against, but I don’t give a fuck. It doesn’t matter because I’m already committed.
“Right before the fight starts, we’ll know. I gotta go, though. Good luck,” Lance says, then walks away.
I can tell Tyler is annoyed by this fact, but I’m not at all shocked.
“Do you want me to tell you what I know?” he asks.
“No,” I tell him, not wanting anything to mess with my current mentality. When it comes to the O’Learys, they can’t be trusted anyway. They do what benefits them, lying and manipulating people, treating them like puppets. But my patience is steadily waning. I check the time and notice we have a little over thirty minutes before this party gets started. Tyler leads me to an empty room and unzips his duffel bag, then pulls out tape and water, forcing me to drink.