I ignore him, shut the door, and lock the truck just like Cole does every time. Then I walk toward the old warehouse while my heart begins to beat faster.
When I reach the entrance, I notice that the gate is only ajar. Cautiously, I stick my head through the crack and look around.
It’s pretty dark, but I quickly realize that this building is similar to the one Cole lives in. The first floor is open and empty, and at the far end, I spot what looks like a staircase leading down. Like Cole’s warehouse, this one seems to have a basement. And like four days ago at his place, light and voices are drifting up from below. Lots of voices. Loud ones. Angry ones.
My legs move on their own.
As I reach the staircase, screams, whistles, and the bawling of several men become clear. Since I still can’t see what’s going on down there, I gather all my courage and take the first steps downstairs.
The moment I can finally get a glimpse at what’s happening in the dimly lit basement, my heart freezes in my chest.
In the middle of the large room, a good three dozen men have gathered. They all crowd around a circular area, shouting, howling, and cursing. None of them seem to notice me as they are far too focused on what is happening inside the circle they have formed in their midst, where two men are moving around each other. One of them wears a light-colored T-shirt on which Ican make out several red stains. The other’s upper body is bare, and although I can only see his muscular, tattooed back, I know immediately that it’s Cole. Cole, who just lunges with his right arm to hit the other man in the face, so that blood spurts out of his nose.
The two men are fighting.
Is that what he was doing the other night while Jules and I were watching movies, laughing, and just having fun? Beating someone and getting beaten?
I’m paralyzed with shock. Unlike a few moments ago, my legs won’t move anymore. I don’t even know whether I want to run away from the scene or toward it.
Cole and his opponent circle each other once more as the crowd goes wild. Both men have their fists raised, and their sweat-covered bodies glisten in the dim light coming from the few working lamps on the ceiling. Suddenly, Cole feints an attack with his left. His opponent dodges, but Cole rams his right fist into his face again a split second later. His knuckles are already red, and I wonder if it’s his own blood or that of his rival.
The other man lunges as soon as he has regained his composure and almost lands a hit, causing the bystanders to yell and whistle loudly, but Cole reacts instantly. He does a half turn, locks his arm around his opponent’s neck, and pummels him as if he were out of his mind. They stumble and spin until Cole’s face is turned toward me. He’s bleeding, too—not from his nose, but from a gash on his upper cheek. His dark hair is damp with sweat and clings to his forehead as he struggles to keep the other man in his grip.
Suddenly, the man rears up, throwing Cole slightly off balance, and then everything happens at once.
Cole’s gaze brushes over me, and he instantly freezes. His rival takes the opportunity to break free, and when I see him lunge, I call out Cole’s name loudly.
He turns around, grabs his opponent by the collar and punches him again before pushing him so hard that the man stumbles backwards and falls. At the same time, some of the surrounding men turn to me, and shouts rise, but I hardly notice them because my eyes are locked on Cole as he whirls to face me.
TWENTY-FIVE
COLE
No, no, no, no.Fuck no!
I can feel the other guy coming at me from behind again, but fight him off with another swing of my fist before stepping out of the ring and rushing toward Sophie. As soon as I reach her, I grab her by the upper arm. "What’s so hard to understand aboutjust wait here?"
She looks at me out of wide eyes and grimaces, but I can’t worry about how I look or whether I’m scaring her now. Especially not as Steve’s voice booms through the basement and makes me falter.
"Would you please explain who the hell this girl is and what she’s doing here?"
He sounds completely calm, which makes it perfectly clear how fucking stupid it was to bring Sophie here. I learned early on that this calmness in a voice can be many times worse and, above all, more dangerous than a roar or cursing could ever be.
Slowly, I turn to him and see him coming toward us. He stops at the bottom of the stairs and looks up at us, waiting, his expression revealing nothing.
Steve may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but one shouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him. What helacks in brains, he makes up for with his henchmen and his brutality.
When I don’t reply because every word could be wrong, he tilts his head a little and looks at Sophie. "What’s your name, sweetie? And what are you doing at my place?" At that, he spreads his arms as if this rat-infested shithole were a palace.
Sophie’s frozen in place while his words fuel my anger.
"Leave her out of this," I growl in Steve’s direction before I turn away from him.
He lets out a sneering laugh. "Oh no, Walker. You brought her here, so you’ll introduce her to us, too."
I ignore his words and the murmurs of agreement from the others and drag Sophie up the stairs.
"This isn’t over, Cole!"
