“Because the guys in there would eat you alive. I know you don’t particularly like me, and I’ve never given you reason to, but Ineedyou to trust me.”
“Okay, fine,” I relent after a long pause.
One corner of his mouth lifts slightly. “Good girl.”
The second those words left his mouth, my brain short circuits and an image pops into my head of Killian hovering above me, those exact words falling from his lips as he moves inside me as he pins my wrists above my head. Liquid heat pools in my lower belly and the image has me feeling thingsin places I have no business feeling, especially when it comes to Killian Hunt.
I shake the thought away.
“You good?” he asks, his eyes narrowing as if he somehow knows where my mind just went.
“Fine,” I lie, swallowing thickly, hoping he can’t see the beet red blush blooming on my cheeks.
“Lock the doors behind me,” he says and without another word, he climbs out of the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition.
As instructed, I press the button that has all the locks clicking into place as I watch him head towards the barn, disappearing into the throng of people and vanishing from sight.
13
I sit in the truck for what feels like hours, getting more and more antsy as time passes. There’s no one else out here besides me and as the night draws in and it grows darker, I become more unsettled.
I’m not afraid of the dark, but sat all alone in a car in the middle of nowhere surrounded by trees that looks like something straight out of any horror movie you’ve ever seen, not my first choice of places to be right now.
And speaking of horror movies, you know when you’re screaming at the woman on the screen who’s been toldnotto open the door and then she proceeds to do so anyway? Andthen you yell‘I told you so’when something bad happens to her and you wonder why she was stupid enough to not listen to instructions?
Well, tonight, Iamthat woman.
Who the hell is he to tell me what to do?
“Screw this.” I pull the keys from the ignition and exit the truck, making my way towards the barn.
There’s a scary looking bouncer at the door checking IDs and I go to reach mine from my bag only to remember I left it in Killian’s truck.
Shit.
As I get nearer, my heart picks up speed, wondering how I’m gonna get inside without being seen. He doesn’t look like the type who would be easy to charm with flirting, not that I’d be any good at that anyway.
The bouncer is momentarily distracted by a rowdy group of guys behind him and he turns, allowing me to sneak past, blending in with a group of friends who were waved through just ahead of me.
I squeeze in tight behind them, pretending to be one of their number until I’m safely inside. I stick close to the group, using them as shield as they carve their way through the crowd. We’re packed in so tightly in here it’s almost hard to draw in a full breath of oxygen, which is just as well because the air is thick and humid which only enhances the pungent scent of beer, body odour and the distinctive smell of marijuana.
There’s got to be at least two or three hundred people in here, maybe more and as I head deeper into the crowd, what I’m met with is like a scene straight out ofFight Club. Everyone is surrounding a huge metal cage on a raised platform thatcommands the inside of the barn.
There are two men fighting inside the cage. One of the fighters has his back to me. He’s absolutely huge. He’s easily the biggest guy I think I’ve ever seen, at least six foot five or more. His muscles make Hulk Hogan look like a matchstick—slight exaggeration—but you get the picture. The other man is partially blocked from view due to the sheer size of his opponent. They’re both shirtless, I know that much.
The air is charged with some kind of electrical current, the energy is palpable as all eyes are fixed on the fight in front of us.
The crowd hollers and cheers with every hit the fighters manage to land on each other and I can’t bring myself to watch. I hate violence. Even the sound of a punch has me flinching.
Killian was right, I don’t belong here.
As I’m about to turn around, my eyes are drawn back to the spectacle in the cage, and I catch a glimpse of the other fighter, my heart skipping a beat. The dark hair. The beard…
Is that… Killian?
No, surely not.
Abandoning my plan to leave, I instead push my way further forward through the crowd to get a closer look, weaving in-between the mass of bodies. I’m so preoccupied, I don’t see the man moving towards me and I collide with him head-on.
