“You ready?”
She nods, swallowing again.
When I open the door, I get the urge to close my eyes in case something comes flying my way, but there is only one person standing behind it. There’s a man, at least six foot tall, with tattoos all over his arms and face, and he’s right in front of me. His arms are folded, and he smells like hasn’t bathed in years. On his shirt are the words ‘Alpha Psi.’
“Tickets,” he says gruffly.
Loud cheering and yelling comes from behind him. It sounds like there are at least a couple hundred people in this place. I peek over his shoulder, wondering what’s up there. He blocks my view.
“Tickets,” he snarls.
“Uh, yeah,” I say, fishing them out of my pocket.
He snatches them from my hand, his fingernails scratching my skin. Dang, that hurts. He brings the tickets so close to his face, I swear I think he’s sniffing them.
Inspecting them, his eyes sometimes flick to me, then to Evie, and then back to the papers in his hands. He squints, grumbling.
Shit.
Unexpectedly, he gives them back. “You can pass.”
For a moment I just stand there, baffled, while he moves to the side.
“Well?” he says, his voice growing impatient.
“Thanks!” I grab Evie by the coat and drag her with me.
We enter what looks like a giant warehouse, but there are rows and rows of bleachers forming a circle around the center. In the middle of it all is a cage.
We’re on a lowered part of the warehouse, so I can only see the top of the bars. It echoes with screams and shouts, people who are cheering for something. Or someone.
It gives me the chills just listening to their chants.
Killer, Killer
Make him be the spiller
The floor will flood
With all of his blood
Killer, Killer
I swallow. The horror that fills my heart unsettles me. Everything about this screams danger.
Still, I press on.
Evie and I hold hands as we walk to one of the bleachers. Angry men with tattoos and piercings glare us down. Evie squeezes my hand. We slip past them, up the bleachers. There are a couple of spots left in the middle, so I set my gaze on those and make my way toward them, ignoring everything and everyone around me.
Groans and thuds are coming from the center of the room, the cage, and I recognize the sounds to be human. The audience cries out in enthusiasm. Shivers run down my spine hearing them roar at the sound of someone’s bones cracking.
I close my eyes as we sit down. Sweat drops roll down my shirt. My fingers are tingly, and I’m not sure if it’s because Evie’s squeezing the life out of them, or if it’s because I’m going to faint.
“Can you look?” I ask.
“Why? You have eyes,” she scoffs.
Neither of us are remotely interested in watching, but I want to know what’s going on.
“Please? I’m scared.”
She sighs. “Fine.”
It’s quiet for too long, so I ask, “What do you see?”
“Oh. My. God.”
“What?” I say.
“You have to see this for yourself.” She lets go of my clammy hand.
I feel left in the dark. I know I have to open my eyes eventually, but I’m scared of what I’ll see.
Breathing out slowly, I gather the courage to look.
And what I see shocks me so much, I think my heart temporarily stops beating.
The guy in the cage getting beaten to a pulp is none other than Hunter Bane.
Chapter 26
Brawl or Die
I stare in complete and utter abhorrence at the cage in the center of the warehouse. Hunter is going all out in a fight with a guy twice his size.
They’re punching, jabbing, thrusting their whole bodies at each other as much as possible. Every second a quick jab is thrown out. I can’t even follow their movements, they’re so fast. They’re like two raging bulls storming at each other, continuously beating each other up.
So this is what Hunter has been doing all this time. Each time he came to my room all busted up, he’d been in a fight just like this. In a cage, beating up his opponents until they passed out.
I’m trembling in my seat, trying to make sense of it all.
Evie’s equally as terrified as I am; she hasn’t spoken since we both saw Hunter fighting.
Is this what they make him do? Fight people for money?
And how long has he been doing this? Hours? Days? Has he been locked up in here ever since he left after Scarlet’s death?
I can’t believe he would let them do this to him. That he’d agree to something this horrible.
It’s hard to watch.
Hunter’s nose is bleeding, his jaw is purple, and his eye is swollen. It looks like he’s already taken quite a beating.
He wipes his nose with the back of his hand, which from a distance looks covered in bruises. The look in his eyes is bloodthirsty, murderous. Clenching his jaw, he runs toward his opponent and rams him down with brute force.