“Come on, Wes,” Noah calls, and Wes breaks the kiss. “Down here.” Noah’s stopped at the entrance to an alley. He waves his hand, and we follow him into the darkness.
There’s nothing until halfway down, then we stop at an unmarked steel double door with a dim light above. Noah knocks, and the door cracks open.
I give a quick glance to the bouncer who’s holding the door for us and take in a sharp breath. He’s big, like the guy in Boston, but looks like a fighter. Split lip, black eye, crooked nose. Rougher. Meaner. Like he’d punch someone for looking at him funny.
This place feels so much worse than the fight club in Boston.
Maybe because I know Shane’s inside.
Noah talks to the bouncer in a low voice and hands him money. Then we head through another set of double doors. Once down the cold, dimly lit hallway, there are echoes of angry, excited shouts and cheers. I follow the men down a few concrete steps into what feels like a basement, the air damp and charged, the room filled with people.
A crowd of men and the occasional woman are packed deep around the ring. They’re screaming and shouting and waving their fists in the air at the pair of men fighting in the center of the room on a raised platform. The room is easily three times as big as the Boston fight club and even louder. No windows, only flickering wall sconces in cages and some overhead lights on high ceilings with exposed pipes.
“Don’t leave my side,” Wes says into my ear, his hot breath tickling my neck.
“Obviously not.” I shake my head. A pair of rough-looking men on the outskirts of the fight crowd give me a long stare until Wes turns his steely gaze at them. They look away reluctantly, but I wouldn’t want to be caught alone inthis place. I’m not looking for a repeat of what happened in Boston when Jones shoved me into that bathroom. There will be no sneaking away this time.
I turn into Wes and let him lay his arm over my shoulders. I wish we didn’t have to be here. I’d much rather spend the night tangled up naked with this man, not looking for Shane, who is still technically my husband.
Because that’s what Shane still is. I give my head a little shake and look around at the messy hordes of people. I’m not sure how we’re going to find anybody.
Noah disappears into the crowd, and we follow the place where he got swallowed up by people.
“Keep an eye out,” Wes says. “We’ve seen pictures of Shane, but you’ll recognize him faster.” Wes’s eyes are darting all around us. He’s on high alert.
I scan the room. There’s a lot of drunk, angry-looking men. Tattoos. Sweat. Danger. No one I recognize. I start to lose faith—what did we think was going to happen here? We would walk in and Shane would be waiting to sign with a fresh pen and my ring in a pretty little box? There’s no way this is that easy.
Wes tugs my hand and nods. Noah’s talking to a man who looks sober and like he might work here. The man is shaking his head, and I hear him sayI don’t knowas we walk up.
That’s when I see the woman standing next to him. It takes my brain a few for the recognition to process. She’s watching the fight with a hungry smile on her face. Tall and thin and blonde, pretty, with heavy eye makeup and bright red lipstick.
I haven’t seen her in so long. And here? Why is she here?
A pang of regret stabs me in the belly, and as if she feels my stare, the womanfinally looks at me.
“Holy shit!” Her face morphs into joyful surprise, and my half-sister leaps across the group and throws her arms around my neck.
“Meadow,” I say with a laugh. “What the fuck? What are you doing here?”
“Working.” Meadow takes a step back and smirks, letting her hands slide down my arms. I can sense Wes shifting on his feet next to me, watching our interaction carefully.
“Here?” I study her face and gnaw at my lower lip.
Dad never let Meadow work for him. It was almost insulting that he gave me shit for not wanting to work at a fight club, but Meadow was forbidden from doing so. As if he were trying to protect her, but he’d given up on me. Maybe he just wanted to keep his two lives separate. Meadow was the result of an affair my father had when I was a baby, and he kept her away from us. My mom knew all along. And in high school, Jake and I found out.
Meadow and I hardly know each other. She got a third of Dad’s estate, and I saw her from a distance at the funeral, but she fled before we talked. Her being here now feels bizarre. Sure, our father is dead, so she can do what she wants, but still. She’s here, working in the same place as Shane.
Shane, who was furious about me not wanting to share my inheritance.
“Yeah, only for a few weeks so far. And you’re finally here!” Her eyes flit to Wes as I process her words. She examines him with open curiosity. “Who are you?”
Wait—did she sayfinally here?
“Meadow, this is Wes, and this is Noah.” I gesture toward the brothers, my line of thinking interrupted. Meadow looks at me expectantly, maybe waiting for more of an explanation. I’m not gonna give it to her. The guy Noah was talking to slinks away, and both men watch his departure.
“Nice to meet you.” She nods at Wes, her gaze shifting to our connected hands, her forehead crinkling. “Hmm.” Then her gaze settles on Noah, and an interested smile lands on her face.
Noah looks grumpy and impatient, his arms crossed, his foot tapping the ground. But he’s staring at Meadow intently.
