“Fucking, yeah!”
Zuri and Leo peeled away from me as I walked around the entire ring while Sunglasses opened the door.
The adrenalin, the energy, it all flowed through my blood, charging it up so I was ready to fucking tear the place down. I felt the beat of the crowd, along with my heart, pulsing around my body. I looked up and scanned the faces, but there was no way to pick anyone out. A curl of dread formed in my stomach as I realised that I wouldn’t know even if Grace were here. I’d been so confident she would show, but as I looked for her in the crowd, panic started to overtake me, driving my heartrate through the roof.
A movement distracted me, and I turned to face my opponent for the first time. He was a big motherfucker, heavyset with muscles wrapped around his neck and shoulders, and his legs look like fucking tree trunks. Getting hit by him would bloody hurt.
A spotlight came on, lighting us up, and I risked another glance up to the crowds all around. Still no Grace. I couldn’t see shit now. It was like being on a fucking stage.
We came together and tapped knuckles.
Tree trunks gave me a slow smile and the perfect view of his skull gum shield.
“I’ve got a message for you, boy.”
“Oh, yeah?” I pushed my face into his, ready to get this fight started.
“No one plays Mikey Kenner.”
Fuck.
Chapter 30
Grace
“What do you mean we can’t speak to him, that’s why my name’s on the list,” I pleaded to the guy barring our way, as I ignored the queue of people appearing behind us.
“Look, he’s my brother. We always see him before the fight. He told us to come here, and we’d meet him.”
“No can do. You can either come in or go. No one sees the fighters before the bout unless they come in with them.” He crossed his arms for emphasis, and I knew there was no getting past.
I turned away, my heart racing at the thought of not getting to him in time. Maddison had asked me here for a reason. He’d reached out, and I had to find a way to help him. I’d come too far to let it go now.
“What do you want to do?” Oliver asked, his eyes sad.
No.
I wouldn’t be dictated to by a bouncer. We’d get in and find some other way to get to Mads. I mustered all my courage and spoke from my gut. “Let us in.”
The guy moved aside and let us through. We entered a huge warehouse space, done up in a fashion—concrete floors, low, dull lighting that was probably there to disguise the dirt and grime of the place, and exposed brickwork with cracks and dents running all over. It wasn’t pretty and made The Club look positively sparkly.
Crowds of people milled about, creating a heaving pulse of activity. There was no music, instead, anticipation filled the air, which churned my stomach with dread. They were all here to watch Maddison, and I clung to that, knowing I needed to find a way to stop this.
We looked around and saw the ground floor where the ring was located with hordes of people already gathered around for the main event. There was no way we’d be able to push our way through to the front, but I had to try. Oliver’s hand reached for mine, and I locked onto it, not wanting to lose him in all the people. We pushed and jostled but got nowhere fast.
I scanned the area, which felt more like a gladiator arena. Big screens hung down around the warehouse, suspended from the iron beams overhead, all with a picture of the shadowy ring. It was empty, so we still had time.
“Oliver, how do we find him?”
“Listen,” he had to shout to be heard over the noise. “We have to accept we might not get to him.”
I shook my head, refusing to admit we’d let him down already. The fight hadn’t even started. Maddison needed me, and I wouldn’t accept it was over until I saw him stand in that ring. My eyes scanned around the room as I looked for another route.
There was a balcony of sorts overlooking the ring. “There.” I pointed and started to move back towards the steps that led upward.
Once again, a mountain of a man barred our progress. His grim expression told me he wasn’t the friendliest of chaps. With a deep breath and a shot of confidence I faked, I walked towards him like I belonged up there.
“Excuse me, miss.” He stopped me.
“I’m here with Maddison. He assured me I’d be let through,” I bluffed, pulling myself up tall and keeping my eyes focused dead ahead on him.
“Hold on.” He turned away, fiddled with something on his collar and talked into an earpiece or something. “What’s your name?”
“Grace Shaw.”
“Boss, I have a Grace Shaw,” he paused, “Okay.”
The mountain moved aside, and I hurried up the stairs with Oliver in tow. The balcony opened up into what appeared to be a VIP area. There were a lot of suits sipping from fluted glasses, not the same as the riff-raff downstairs.
Oliver led me farther through the area, my hand still in his until space opened up at the edge looking over the pit below, the ring visible but still in shadow.
“I’m sorry.”
“He has to know we’re here, Oliver. He can’t think we left him.”
“I know.”
I gripped the edge of the barrier, trying to ward off the sickening feeling that was rising, threatening to overtake me, sucking all the faith I had in Maddison into a black hole.
Movement caught my eyes, and I saw three figures appear from the far end of the building and walk towards the ring. The crowd parted before them as they strutted through into the clear space circling the ring. Two figures peeled off to one side as the third made his way to the ring.
It was Maddison.
People started to take notice, moving in closer to take a look and the din started to gather momentum. It was nothing like the cheering and support at the fights I’d witnessed at The Club. These spectators expected blood—sizing up the victims below.
“Oliver?” I asked, not sure of what question I needed answering.
“He’ll see us,” he replied confidently.
Maddison stood, looking out and scanned the faces in front of him, the same routine as when I’d been to watch other fights, but we were too far away. His eyes moved back and forth over the hoards in front of him. A bright light beamed down above him, illuminating the cage, but it didn’t help Mads find us, and he wouldn’t all the way up here. The screen repeated the image in close up, and I saw the look of hope on his features.
He was looking for me, and he wasn’t going to see me unless I did something.
“He can’t see, Oliver. We have to get closer. Come on.”
I tore off back the way we’d come, down the stairs and past the mountain. People stood shoulder to shoulder, all edging closer now the action was building, but I found a way through. I barged and pushed, and with determined steps, forced a path. Oliver kept a hand on my shoulder, lending me his strength. We knocked people and shoved past until we were closer to the ring, but Maddison had turned away from the crowd and wasn’t looking for me anymore.
“Maddison!” I screamed through the noise and jumped up and down, making myself as big as possible in the masses.
It was no use. Maddison was looking the other way—right at his opponent who’d joined the ring. The man was a monster. Legs twice as big as Maddison’s, his neck like that of a bull, chorded with muscle. He made Mads look like a boy.