9. Gavin

NINE

gavin

I COULD ONLY stare as the door slammed shut, reeling in Daire’s wake. I’d come home from my date feeling good and wanting to clear the air with him, only to somehow make things worse…again. My mind raced, replaying everything he’d said, but it was the image of him half-naked when I walked into his room that wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t that Daire had an incredible body—I already knew that much.

No, it was the multitude of bruises all over his back and torso that joined his many tattoos, including a particularly nasty one the size of a baseball on his ribs.

What the hell had he been doing to get those? And where was he going now?

Curiosity and worry got the best of me, and it took a split second for me to decide I was going after him. I thought he’d been going out for a booty call, but unless he was into getting the shit beaten out of him as foreplay, I didn’t think that was the case anymore. And I couldn’t see Daire willingly letting someone put their hands on him without retaliating.

My heart hammered as I threw open the door, just as the elevator Daire had stepped into closed. I swiped my card for the other elevator, cursing when it didn’t open immediately.

“Come on,” I said, shifting my weight from foot to foot and watching his lift descend. But it didn’t stop on the main floor. It stopped in…the basement?

“What the hell?” My elevator chose that moment to finally arrive, and I hurried inside, not wanting to lose him. Though I couldn’t imagine where he could possibly go from the basement or why that would be his destination at all. I’d only been down there once by accident, and it was nothing to write home about.

If I hadn’t seen those bruises, it would’ve crossed my mind that he’d found a hidden place to hook up in secret, but I didn’t think that was what I’d be walking into. All I knew was he was hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

When the doors opened to the basement, I stepped out into the darkness to utter silence that was only interrupted by the sound of something clicking shut. I whipped my head to where the noise had come from—a door that was marked DANGER: DO NOT EXIT.

Now if that didn’t scream Daire, I didn’t know what did. Leave it to him to go places he shouldn’t.

With only a barely lit path to guide me, I made my way to the non-exit, listening for any indication that Daire was still down here.

But the room was empty. I could feel it.

So where the hell was he going?

I hesitated at the door, my blood pumping and my mind racing. He would be so pissed to know that I was following him, but what did I have to lose? What if he was in some kind of trouble and his stubborn ass just wasn’t saying anything about it because he refused to reach out for help?

I had to know. He was the one who thought he’d been doing me a favor with Joey, right? I hadn’t taken it that way, only focusing on the fact that he’d gone against my wishes, but…he’d been protecting me in his own way. So I owed it to him to do the same.

Pushing the door open softly, I peeked out to see a small platform and set of stairs, leading down into some kind of…subterranean tunnel?

What the hell?

I tightened my fingers around the handle as warnings flashed inside my head, matching those on the door I was leaning against.

Warning.

Do not exit.

Run.

But the sound of footsteps echoing in the distance caught my attention, and I quickly shoved them aside. Daire was on the move, and I needed to get going if I didn’t want to lose him.

Gathering all the courage I could muster, I slipped through the door and into God knows where. I headed down the concrete stairs to a crumbled platform, and zeroed in on the drop-off to what looked like⁠—

Wait, was that a railroad track?

I scanned the dilapidated brick archway that curved overhead, the scattered debris on the platform at my feet covered in dirt, then pulled my phone out to shine the light around my immediate area. I was standing in some sort of abandoned railway tunnel.

At least, I hoped it was abandoned.

A sound to my left—where the cavernous tunnel disappeared into nothing but darkness—caught my attention, and I turned my light in that direction and saw the outline of Daire up ahead.

He was hugging one side of the tracks and walking with a sure stride that told me this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. He’d been here before. He was familiar with this tunnel and wherever it went.

I glanced down to the right of the tunnel and was happy to note there was a bunch of wood and bricks lying piled up across the tracks, which would impede any oncoming train, should one come hurtling through there. A relief, to say the least, since the last way I wanted to be taken out was death by train.

Instead, all I had to worry about was death by unsavory characters or disease-infested rats. If Daire was merely skipping out on having to interact with humanity above ground, I was going to give him a piece of my damn mind.

I jumped off the platform and down on to the tracks, and even knowing I wasn’t going to come face to face with a train car, my heart still hammered erratically in my chest. My phone lit the way for my feet as I hurried in the direction Daire had gone, keeping close to the wall like he had and doing my best not to flinch at every little sound I didn’t recognize—which was all of them. It wasn’t like I spent my days in underground Manhattan. Who knew if the scurrying sound to my right was people or rodents?

I shivered at the thought, my mind conjuring up all kinds of nightmare scenarios, from radioactive lizards to mutant turtles. Was Daire doing drugs? Was he buying them down here? Did he owe money to bookies? I had no idea what could have him venturing into the bowels of New York City, but if we both somehow survived this, I just might kill him.

There was a sound up ahead, and I swung my light that way just as Daire’s form disappeared through some sort of opening. I picked up the pace, jogging in that direction. As I got closer, the muffled sound of people filled the once-silent tunnel, and I found myself standing at a small opening in the thick brick wall.

It wasn’t a door, per se, or another tunnel. It looked more like a crack in the wall that someone had taken a sledgehammer to so people could climb through.

I came to an abrupt halt as I peered inside the hole in the wall, then looked down at my pressed grey pants and jacket and grimaced. My shoes were already a lost cause after stepping in God only knows, but was I really about to climb through what looked like a demolition site?

This was crazy. Clearly I’d lost my damn mind. But just as I was about to do the smart thing and turn around, a loud, raucous cheer reverberated from inside the opening, and I went through.

“And Jackhammer’s down for the count!” a man shouted from on top of a jagged boulder several feet above the crowd, like he was the host of whatever was happening below. The horde was several people deep, though, and I couldn’t tell what was going on without getting closer.

I definitely didn’t belong here. The vibe was wild and feral, dirty and with an air of violence.

No, not just an air. This whole scene was about violence.

As casually as I could manage without sticking out like a sore thumb, I moved deeper into the crowd, searching for any sign of Daire, but it was the man knocked out cold on the concrete in the middle of a circle that caught my attention.

“Oh, come on, get up.” A towering figure stood above the guy, who still wasn’t moving. When he kicked at the man’s hips, there was a groan.

He wasn’t dead, whoever it was. But he wasn’t in good shape.

“I said get up,” the man standing growled, and that was when the host on the boulder jumped down and forced the big guy back.

“All right, that’s enough. You win.” He lifted the big guy’s arm and turned him to face the crowd. “Another notch for Shane the Destroyer.”

There were shouts mixed with more than a few boos as the Destroyer smirked at his victory.

“Who’s next?” he shouted, his teeth smeared with blood. He spat by the feet of the man he’d defeated, and I shrank back as his gaze moved over the crowd.

“How about me, fucker?”

My stomach dropped all the way down to my feet as Daire stepped into the circle. I’d seen the scowls and glares he’d given off for years, but never had I seen the menacing look on his face as he shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it aside. Then he lifted his shirt, and all those well-defined muscles came into view—along with the bruises that had sent me down here in the first place.

What the hell was he doing? Actively looking to get the shit beaten out of him? Was he crazy?

The host climbed back up on the rock and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“We have a challenger, and this one ought to be a bloodbath.” A sinister smile crossed the man’s lips, causing several in the mob below to whistle in approval. “You’ve all seen what the Destroyer can do, but can he survive…the Reaper?”

Daire sauntered around the circle, keeping his eyes on the man they called the Destroyer, as the one on the ground was pulled away by his arms. That was when the tattoo of the word “Reaper” scrawled across his upper back came into view, and it clicked.

Fuck. That’s what that meant?

The roar of the crowd echoed off the cavernous walls, all eyes on Daire…the Reaper? Was this for fucking real? Daire was going to fight that monster of a man who’d all but killed the other guy?

No. No way this was happening. I just had to get to him, knock some sense into him before he ended up six feet under.

But then I heard the voices of those around me, saw the money being exchanged. They were placing their bets on the winner, and it was Daire’s name on their lips.

“Bloodbath my ass. I bet Reaper has him on the ground in less than a minute.”

“Destroyer’s got a death wish. Reaper’s fuckin’ psychotic. I know where my money’s goin’.”

“That asshole should forfeit now.”

Wait a second. They thought Daire was going to win against the huge guy?

“Just a reminder of the rules,” the host shouted. “There aren’t any. Just no weapons, and don’t fucking kill each other. First one to knock out or get the other to concede wins.”

Daire was singularly focused, his dark eyes never leaving the man standing a head taller than his six-two frame. His tattoos and the angular cut of his jaw somehow made him look even more dangerous under the harsh overhead light, and for a moment, I believed he could take the Destroyer down.

And then the big guy swung, his long arm easily able to cross the distance between him and Daire. Fear clenched my stomach as I watched in horror, but the man’s fist never connected. In the time I blinked, Daire had dodged out of the way, landing a blow of his own to the Destroyer’s ribs, and then continued to pummel him, one strike after another.

A booming roar escaped the man as he pivoted back to face Daire, his anger rising at not getting in the first hit. But if Daire felt threatened, you couldn’t tell. His lips curved into a cruel smirk.

Destroyer lunged then, his meaty fist soaring through the air toward Daire’s face. But before it made contact with any part of him, Daire sidestepped the blow and kicked his leg out in a sweeping arc that connected with the back of Destroyer’s calves and knocked him clear off his feet.

The crowd went batshit crazy, and as the circle seemed to tighten on the two under the spotlight, a thunderous chant began to echo around the space. It wasn’t until it was repeated over and over again that I realized they were chanting, “Reaper! Reaper! Reaper!”

I pushed forward in the crowd, trying to get a better look of what was happening now that shoulders and heads were blocking my view, and when I finally found a clearing, my heart raced.

Daire was straddling his opponent, landing blow after blow to different parts of the guy’s body.

From somewhere behind me I heard, “The deathblows,” and I almost turned around to ask them what the hell they were talking about. But it was clear, so painfully and blood-red clear, that Daire’s nickname was because of this move. The swift kick to the legs, the gaining of the upper hand, and then, finally, these continuous blows…the deathblows.

It was shocking, an eye-opening scene to witness, as I stood there absolutely paralyzed. It wasn’t until someone bumped into my shoulder—hard—that I realized Daire wasn’t the only one people were now looking at.

“What do we have here?” the thug who’d just knocked me around jeered. “Looks like preppy boy got lost on the way home.”

I swallowed as he looked over my suit, his shaved head and tattooed face making me take a step back until I ran into something solid behind me.

“Or maybe he wanted to slum it for the night. Place a few bets on some rabid dogs.”

My pulse pounded as sweat popped out on my brow. The fight-or-flight response started to kick in as I realized the biggest danger was no longer in the center of the crowd under a spotlight, but was circling around me.

“Is that it, Preppy—got some money you want to throw around?” The guy behind me grabbed my arm and spun me around, his bloodied nose telling me that he’d been one of tonight’s earlier participants. “Or maybe I’ll just take this fancy watch of yours.”

He held my arm up, shoving the sleeve of my jacket out of his way. Total fear had my words stuck in the back of my throat, and just as I was about to try to yank my arm free, I caught sight of something dark and ominous coming my way, right before I heard a bone-chilling snarl.

Then all hell broke loose.