“Attention, everyone. Please start leaving now through the back as calmly as you can,” he said, folding his hands over his cane. “I’ve just been informed there are two detectives out the front.”
The room went still.
He didn’t wait for anyone to ask questions and left with Roxy, heading back up to The Den to somehow distract those detectives long enough for the rest of us to get out. Even so, the fight pit had no one to dismantle it. His cleaners, who specialized in making things disappear, hadn’t arrived yet.
Antonio would get caught. Maybe not be charged right away, but he would be questioned.
Seb and Dean, along with everyone else, headed for their lockers to clear them out as fast as they could. The latter of the two moved carefully, wincing with every movement of his arm, or twist of his middle, until Seb stepped in and did the rest.
I lingered by the stairs with my bag over my shoulder, waiting anxiously and shifting on my feet as one by one the fighters left the basement with their duffel bags and backpacks full.
Dean slowly and painfully pulled a black hoodie over his head.
“That’s all of it,” Seb said, hastily zipping Dean’s bag closed before throwing his own over his shoulder.
Dean took the bag, looped it over one arm, gritting his teeth through the pain, and marched for the stairs with Seb in tow.
Marched for me.
His hand slipped into mine in passing, sending a foreign shock through my system before he led me up the stairs with the gentlest of tugs. His breathing was shallow as he held his other hand to his bruised side. That unreadable expression on his face remained.
I followed him closely, clambering up the stairs just to keep up.
We were the last to leave the basement, possibly for a long time, and were quickly greeted by the storm outside. No police were in sight, which meant the detectives were keeping it as calm and casual as possible.
The rain soaked our clothes as thunder clapped across the atmosphere with a flash, paired with fat raindrops splattering across the parking lot gravel.
“I’ll see you guys when I see you,” Seb said, pulling on his riding jacket as he squinted through the rain. He jogged to his bike before we could respond, though one look at Dean told me he had no plans on speaking at all.
His jaw was set as water dripped from his hair, sticking it to his forehead in dark wavy strands. When we got to his car, he pulled the passenger door open for me but was looking elsewhere as I climbed in.
I couldn’t fight off the gnawing feeling that maybe I did something wrong. Or maybe, as Roxy said so long ago, he was bored.
I sucked in a deep breath as I watched him walk around to the driver seat, keeping his head down as the rain pelted harder. When he climbed in beside me, dropping into the seat with a hiss, he pushed the keys into the ignition.
“Should you be driving?” I knew I should’ve asked this earlier but my mind had been preoccupied. It still was.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, unable to so much as glance in my direction before he started the car.
The engine kept the silence at bay, but things continued to feel wrong the entire drive back to my apartment. I didn't know what to say to Dean and wondered if he wanted to speak at all.
But he could still say something. Anything.
The Cadillac pulled up outside the apartment too soon, where the path to the front doors shimmered with a stream of running water.
I hesitated before getting out, but not because of the miserable weather outside. Dean had left the engine running.
He made no indication of doing much else but stare ahead through the rain-spattered windshield. A fresh bruise bloomed on his right cheek, just below his eye, and blood was already blotting through the bandage on his arm. I couldn’t help that my eyes drifted to his shirt — to what lay beneath it across his ribs.
My voice was quiet when I spoke. “You could come inside...if you want.”
Dean’s eyelids fluttered in a blink as he broke his stare, slowly bringing his attention to me. It was the first time since before the fight he had actually looked at me; was seeing me.
His eyebrows pulled together, and he glanced at his hand resting on the steering wheel. “I don’t think spendin’ the night together is a good idea... The cops will be lookin’ for fighters, and probably anyone with a connection to us. Or The Den.”
“Oh... Right.”
He was talking now. That’s all that mattered.
