“I won’t get hurt. Neither of you will let that happen. I trust you.”
Letting out a sigh, I worry that I might not be able to keep that promise. Underground fighting rings aren’t exactly my scene. I’ve never been in a fight, thrown a punch, or had to brawl another person. But looking at her now, I know deep down I would do whatever I have to in order to keep her safe. And him.
When Lucien pulls up to the abandoned station, he turns back and looks at me with worry. “Faîtes attention à vous, monsieur.”
“We’ll be safe, Lucien. I promise,” I reply to him as I climb out of the car with renewed purpose. “Just stay here,” I add before shutting the door.
He nods at my request.
Then I put Freya behind me as I jog toward the Métro station.There are signs surrounding the entrance and tape across the stairwell that we have to climb under. Beneath the city, the commotion of voices cheering echoes through the stairwell.
Glancing back up at Freya, I’m surprised to find that she’s not wearing an expression of fear but one of determination. She is fearlessly marching into the underbelly of a criminal fighting ring for the man she loves, and it makes my heart pound with adoration for her.
That is my woman. And I love her so much it hurts.
Mentally manifesting my own courage, I run ahead of her, hoping to find Archer spectating instead of participating. This could be as easy as finding him and convincing him to leave with us.
But when I turn the corner into the dimly lit Métro station and I see Archer standing in the middle of the crowd with bare fists drawn and blood seeping from a gash above his eye, something primal and instinctual takes over.
“Hey!” With a roaring shout, I sprint toward the circle, and when I see the fighter with the wicked smile about to throw another punch at my man, I put myself between the two.
Without thinking, I rear back my fist, but before I can, Freya puts herself between me and him. I watch in shock as she assumes a quick fighting position, leading with her left foot and slamming her own fist hard against the man’s nose.
Blood sprays, hitting me in the face and neck, while the crowd around us gasps in shock, myself included. The man stumbles backward, grabbing at his face with surprise.
My chest heaves as I draw her toward me, adrenaline coursing through my veins. When someone reaches for her, grabbing her by the arm, I throw a fist at the stranger’s jaw, making violent contact with a hate-filled sneer on my face.
When the opponent recovers and lifts his own fist as if he’s about to swing, I pull back my arm again.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Archer says, grabbing my bicep and pulling me back. “What the fuck are you doing?”
That’s when the room breaks out in pandemonium. The men standing around us suddenly look infuriated. They are shouting in various languages, mostly directing their jeers at me.
“Chopper, what is going on?” the opponent asks.
Chopper?
Someone grabs at my arm, yanking me hard as if trying to remove me from the circle, but I refuse to leave Archer’s side. When a fist suddenly careens into my face, I realize this has taken a hideous turn.
The sting and ache from the punch cause my eyes to fill with tears, and I blink through them to see Archer’s rage. He lets go of my arm long enough to grab one of the spectators by the collar and shout in his face.
“Don’t you fucking touch him!” he bellows.
In the back of my mind, I think about Freya. The room has broken out in chaos, fists flying, people shouting, lights flashing. And she’s slipped out of my grasp.
Archer’s opponent, the man Freya punched, grabs me by the arm and drags me away from the squall. “We need to get you the fuck out of here.”
“Archer!” I shout.
Just then, the lights flashing through the stairwell turn blue. Everyone scatters in a panic, and I think only about Freya and Archer.
Archer’s face appears in my vision, terror-laced and frantic. “Run, Julian!”
I glance around with fear, looking for Freya, when I spot her petite form near the exit. She has her phone in her hand, and she’s waving toward us as we run for the stairs.
The man with the bloody nose is next to us as we climb the stairs in a hurry. I’ve never run so fast in my life. Spotting Lucien’s car in the distance and the approaching police down the street, the four of us sprint for the car.
Archer pulls open the door first, ushering Freya inside andme after her. His opponent climbs in the front, and Archer gets in fast.
