Page 93 of Shadowed With Fear

He spits on the concrete, and looks at me again, winking with a smirk before standing and charging Ethan.

I think I’m in love.

Grayson jabs and throws another right hook, making Ethan stumble back, tripping on the rope that separates them from the crowd.

Ethan grabs a hold of Grayson as he falls, dragging them both to the stone floor.

They roll around before Ethan finally wins, straddling Grayson, punching him over and over and over.

A horrified gasp leaves me, my hand gripping onto Brahm tight.

“Yeah, not really good at all,” Henry mutters, and I see his arm disappear behind his back. Adam places a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head slightly.

“One more round,” he states as the bell rings again.

Alex’s excitement from before is gone as he tends to Grayson’s split lip and the bruises forming around his cheek and jaw.

But a cry erupts from the back of the crowd, doors slamming against the concrete and metal walls.

Flashlights flicker over the heads of spectators, and people begin pushing and shoving, rushing past us.

“What— “

“Cops!”

“Raid!”

“Everyone fucking RUN!”

Hundreds of bodies rush around, looking for a quick escape, stepping over people, knocking them down.

“Dahlia!” Brahm shouts over the crowd, but I get swept away in the masses running for the back of the building.

“Brahm! Grays!” I claw at the wall of people surrounding me.

“Let her fucking go,” a cold voice seethes, parting the bodies. Red lights gleam off something in his hand, a sharpened tip pressed against the throat of a guy who had kept pushing me away from the guys.

The guy swallows, raising his hands in surrender.

Grayson steps around Henry staring down the tip of his knife at the guy. He grabs my hand, pulling me to him, wrapping me in his arms. The guy runs off and Henry drops his head to his chest, inhaling deeply. His hands fall to his side, shaking as he lifts his head to Grays.

I look to Grayson, “Is— “

“Shh, not now. We gotta get out of here.” Grayson calls for Henry, nodding to the locker room. They sandwiched me between them, working through the panicked patrons, and the cops rushing through trying to catch people.

When we reach the locker room, Henry goes to a window and begins prying it open.

Grays is grabbing his duffel bag, shoving all his stuff into it hurriedly. A small ping comes from inside one of the pockets. Then immediately after another comes from Henry.

They both pause, pulling out their phones. Grays sighs in relief.

“It’s Brahm; him, Adam, and Alex got out. They didn’t see Alex.”

“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay good, thank god.”

Henry chuckles, smacking the glass of the window.

“That’s not fucking all.”