Taking out my phone, I scroll to the one contact I had hoped I’d never have to call. It’s dangerous, and bound to eventually leave us worse off than we are now, but it’s my only option. I reluctantly hit the call button and bring the phone to my ear.
“Yeah?” the man answers.
“It’s Vaughn. I’m going to need your help. It’s urgent.”
WE PULL UP BEHIND the seedy dive-bar, where a black Town Car already waits for us. Four men stand around, and there isn’t a single doubt in my mind that all of them are armed. That’s why they chose this place—it’s vacant enough for them to dispose of us with ease if needed.
“Let me do the talking,” I tell him. “You have a tendency to say and do the wrong fucking shit.”
Thankfully, he seems to finally understand the severity of the situation and keeps his mouth shut as we get out of the car. I nod at the men and stand at the front of the car. Grayson comes up beside me, his hands clasped behind his back. Being as I sent him away when everything went down, this is the first time he’s seeing any of these guys face to face. It’s clear to even a casual observer that they’re anything but friendly.
The back door of the car opens, and a man in his early fifties steps out. Despite his somewhat young age, his gray hair makes him appear older. The charcoal suit he’s wearing is perfectly tailored to his body and must have cost a fortune, not that money bears any meaning to him. He’s as rich as he is powerful.
“Mr. Vaughn,” He greets me.
I nod respectfully. “Cal. Good to see you again.”
He chuckles. “You’re a lot of things Knox, but you’re no liar. Don’t start now.” His attention turns to the moron next to me. “And you must be Grayson Hayworth. Quite a conundrum you got yourself in, son.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is murder a hobby of yours? Should I expect to have more messes to clean up?”
“No, sir. He was going to kill my girlfriend. I did what was necessary to protect her.”
Cal processes his words for a moment before answering. “Very well, though I’m not sure a judge would have agreed with you based on what we cleared from the recording that night.”
Of course he fucking watched before getting rid of it. The piece of shit probably got off on it. He seems like the kind who would get hard watching someone die. Sick bastard.
“I agree with you, and I appreciate everything you did to make it go away.”
“Yes, well, nothing comes for free, son. It’ll do you some good to remember that.” He leans back against the hood of his expensive car and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure if Knox told you, but I own an underground fight ring over on the east side of town.”
Grayson seems intrigued by the information, but he shouldn’t be. “He didn’t mention that.”
“Good,” Cal says, pleased with his answer. “The only reason it stays a secret is because people don’t speak about it. First rule of fight club and all that.”
He was trying to trick him. Give him a reason to take my ass out. My stress level reaches new heights, and this meeting can’t end soon enough. Thankfully, he seems to get bored of fucking with us rather quickly and gets to the point.
“Recently, one of my best fighters met an unfortunate fate, and I need to replace him.”
My brows furrow. “Who was it?”
“Ashton.”
The instant the name leaves his mouth, my body goes ice cold—and it has nothing to do with the weather. There are two different levels in The Underground. The first is the kind I fight in. They’re standard, with three rounds, and, while people get hurt, everyone makes it out alive. The second, however, is the higher, more intense level. I’ve always stayed away from them because while the bets are more than twenty times what the lower level pays, they’re vicious. Kill-or-be-killed kind of fights. The amount of lives that have been lost in that ring are immeasurable.
Ashton fought in the latter.
“With all due respect, Cal, regardless of what you may have seen in that video, Grayson is nowhere near ready for those fights.”
He lets out a deep laugh, making the guys around him follow suit. “Don’t be ridiculous, boy. I wouldn’t risk my money like that.” He smirks, and I dread the next words that come from his mouth. “You will be replacing Ashton. Grayson will replace you in the regulated brawls. This way, I cash in on both levels. It’s a win-win. Well, for me, anyway.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. If I wasn’t afraid of being seen as weak, I would—all over his leather shoes that probably cost more than my fucking house.
Every inch of me wants to protest.
To refuse.
To punch Grayson in the face for getting me into this shit.
But I can’t.
Anything other than agreeing will get me killed, though I may end up that way anyway, with the shit he’s making me do. I have no choice but to obey and hope to hell I make it out alive.
Cal nods to one of his henchmen, and I’m handed a packet. “Inside is the name of a gym. You are to be there tomorrow night at eight so Jackson can train you. He’s the best around, and I need you two in impeccable shape.” He fixates his eyes on me. “I’ve also given you some information on your first opponent, though that’s not a luxury you should get used to.”
“Understood,” I say briefly. The only thing I want right now is to get the hell out of here.
As if he can sense my discomfort, he smiles victoriously and nods once. “Very well, boys. Your first fight is three weeks from today. Be ready.”
Grayson and I don’t need to be told twice. We get back into his car, and he backs out of the alley as I try to keep myself from vomiting in his precious car. Once we’re out of sight, I punch the ceiling with full force.
“Motherfucker!”
Pretty boy stays quiet in the driver’s seat as he navigates us through town. To be honest, it’s probably better he stays that way. Anything that comes out of his mouth may cause me to snap, and I take no responsibility for what I’ll do if that happens.
I put Zayn’s address into his GPS, silently telling him to take me there instead of home. The whole drive, the only thing running through my mind are the guys I’ve seen get carried out of The Underground for being in those fights. That ring is known around the circuit as The Death Trap due to the number of people who have died in there. It’s no fucking joke, and now, I have no choice but to be a part of it.
Grayson pulls up to the house, and I can hear the music pulsing before I open the door.
“Thank fuck,” I murmur, relieved.
Not even saying goodbye, I get out of the car and slam the door behind me. I’m bound to find something at this party to take the edge off. Just as I’m halfway to the porch, however, Grayson calls out for me.
“Knox, don’t do anything stupid.”
My body tenses. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He raises his hands in a sign of peace. “I’m just saying, don’t do anything that will make it hard for you to train tomorrow night. You heard Cal. We need to be in good shape.”
“Don’t try to tell me what to fucking do.” I storm back over to him and shove my finger into his chest. “You are the reason for this! I’m in this mess, have to risk my goddamn life, because of you! You don’t get to have an opinion on what I do!”