I scan the darkened audience below, fear filling me. “Is my brother here?”
“Doubt it,” Jagger says.
Asher winks at me. “Your brother had to take a quick trip back home, some urgent media business to tend to.”
My pulse races. “What did you do?” I whisper, half in awe, half mortified they set all this up. “What was the lie?”
“The lie is none of your concern, flower. I did my job, and after tonight, we will have one less threat to worry about,” Jagger growls, his heavy hand landing on my thigh, making me nearly jump out of my skin. “Now be a good girl and sit back and enjoy the entertainment.”
These cocky bastards are actually insane. Who comes up with evil plans like this? Part of me feels like I’m stuck in some action movie, it’s just all too unbelievable. But as Leone lands the first blow to Cruz’s cheek, the fear choking up my chest tells me it’s very real.
Cruz throws his head back, laughing. He looks psychotic, and that only makes his groupies cheer with more enthusiasm. Cracking his neck, his piercing gaze fixes on the powerful man standing in front of him. He mutters something with an evil cackle, but we can’t hear what. When Leone’s face pales, Cruz lunges, his feet moving with lightning speed and his hands with precision. The first hit disorients Leone, the second has him swaying on his feet.
He tries to get one back, but Cruz is too swift, blocking him then following up with a quick upper cut that knocks Leone flat on his back. His head flies back, and he cracks his skull.
My hand covers my mouth to stifle a scream. This is too much. As I watch, Cruz beats the shit out of his now knocked-out opponent. With no sign of anyone stopping the horror, my anger rises. I don’t know what it is, maybe the violence of it all or how hopeless I feel trapped in this situation, sitting in between the other two brothers with no voice. But the same sensation I felt in the days after my operation comes over me. I don’t want to just be stuck in limbo, taking orders from the guys. I want to forge my own path. Living the life I dreamt of. Demanding my family respect me and let me live my own life. I want desperately to be back at work with the new friends I was making, feeling like I’m living my life to the fullest. But not like this.
This, this is crazy. Are they really going to let him beat him to death on a stage in front of all these people?
Jagger’s grip on my thigh tightens, and he lowers his lips to my ear. I’m so on edge I damn near jump out of my skin.
When my angry eyes lock onto him, he raises a curious brow. “Relax, flower, I was just going to say this is the best bit.” A psychotic grin spreads over his face. “Cruz has had enough toying with his prey, now he’s going to end him.”
My eyes go wide as saucers. “You mean win?”
“Yeah, that’s what we mean,” Asher agrees, but his voice isn’t convincing.
I sit forward, pushing out of their possessive holds on me, my ass only just balancing on the edge of my seat. I don’t want to see this, but I can’t look away either. The scent of smoke hits my nostrils, but it’s not cigarette smoke. It’s something thicker. My heart kicks up a beat as I glance back at the boys. “Can you smell that?”
Jagger’s eyes go wide. “Fuck.” His realization hits as a commotion erupts in the audience.
“Fire!” people shriek as the audience scatters.
Asher grips my hand, pulling me back by his side, and we’re standing before I can think. I glance back to Cruz, and he’s hustling out a side door with a couple of security by his side. Leone’s body lies motionless and bloody in the ring. He’s not a good man. In fact, from what I had seen in the past, he was an evil motherfucker, but this is too much. He shouldn’t die here like this over me.
“Come on, princess. We have to get you out of here, before this old piece of shit falls apart completely.”
The boys are at my sides caging me in as we move quickly down the stairs and into the bottom floor. The security is gone, must have taken off as soon as they got a whiff of the fire.
Jagger coughs, and I cover my mouth as the smoke gets thicker and the walls in front of us get harder to see.
“Keep moving, Jagger, it’s not like last time,” Asher calls to him with a cough.
The burns on his chest. I find his hand and lace my fingers with his. But he’s right there with me hustling through the frantic screams and sea of bodies trying to escape.
We head in the opposite direction to the masses trying to squeeze through the double doors at the front entry, and instead, head back in the way we came in through the back.
“Fuck, the door is blocked,” Jagger cries, and I feel his whole body tense. He grips my hand so tight it hurts.
My head spins, and my body feels weak as I try to suck in breaths.
“Help me,” Asher shouts as he tries to move the beam restricting our access to the door.
I give it everything I have, but it’s so damn heavy I can’t budge it.
“Jagger,” Asher yells. “If you can’t do it for yourself or me, fucking do it for her.”
Jagger seems to snap out of his daze, and he shoves forward, the three of us pushing the beam aside with a thud. We scramble for the door. The moment Asher pushes the door handle, we’re plunged into the cool night, gasping and spluttering for fresh air.
