Page 132 of Broken Blood Ties

Standing, I follow Callum through the hyper crowd, all swaying in time with the punches and jabs thrown between the two fighters.

Callum glances back at me, and I note the look. Is he nervous?

He walks ahead of me, but there’s something off about the way he moves. I can’t seem to place it—maybe it’s the subtle lack of urgency in his steps, or the way his shoulders seem too relaxed.

We move out of the arena and down the narrow hallway along the backside.

“Did ye put him in the training room like I asked?”

“Yeah,” Callum says, and I slow my steps, seeing his fist tighten at his side. The unease twists in my gut, tighter.

I’m being paranoid. He’s one of my men and likely had a few drinks. Maybe this takes him away from his chick for the night. Or the idea of standing up to Riku frightens him. Well, bleeding tough.

He glances back at me. Another quick, casual look, but he seems guarded. I force a half-hearted smile.

We near the door to the training room. The area is quiet for the turnout we have tonight. Finn stands farther down the hallway, seemingly on guard. When he notices me, his brow furrows, and he glances between Callum and me as Callum reaches for the door handle.

Finn’s confusion morphs deeper and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge as he jogs down the hall.

With an eerie silence, Callum pushes open the training room door and I stride in seeing Riku sitting in a metal chair. The door slams behind me, and I jump, turning to see Callum shamefully lock it.

My mind races as Riku’s laughter slithers off the walls and around me. All the while, a shadow near the window moves, crossing the worn hanging bags, and rippling over the scuffed floors marred with nicks from jump ropes. The air is thick with the metallic tang of old blood—no, wait, that’s teeth sinking into my cheek as the man I didn’t expect to see for another two weeks steps into the light.

The dull thud of my heart fills the space. Bleeding hell.

“Ah, my future son-in-law.”

Chapter40

Summer

Iglance down at my phone before I scan the crowd. Kieran’s been gone for over forty minutes, and I am one more fight away from demanding Cormac go search for him. What is taking so long? He wouldn’t detain Riku longer than he needs to, right?

Blood appears, trickling from a cut above one of the fighter’s brows as he’s pressed into the floor. His dark skin is wet with sweat as it drips down the sides of his sideburns and farther into his beard before splashing off his chin. His eyes narrow, and in the short time I’ve been here, I know that look. The fight is nowhere near over.

They’re relentless. Pushing each to the limit, swinging, dodging, and swinging again. I wonder what it would be like to see Kieran in a fight. Utterly terrifying I suppose, but also, with the air charged with competition, the possibility feels riveting.

Each round seems to blur into the next, and my heart pounds when one of the men is knocked out cold. The raw primal energy that hackles up from the crowd is unnerving, but I can’t seem to tear my attention away.

I lean into Cormac without straying from the fight. “Don’t you think he should be finished by now?”

Cormac shifts. From my proximity or my question, I’m not sure. “Probably. Why? Worried about him?” He winks at me.

“Aren’t you?”

A woman in a short cocktail dress walks past, lingering around Cormac. He adjusts his tweed sport coat and rolls his shoulders. I cast him a weary look, pulling my phone back up and typing out a message to Kieran.

Where are you?

Nothing. No response.

Just then, the referee yells out, “Tap out!” and the crowd jumps into the air, shouting and screaming. Even the leather sofa groans as it’s jostled across the concrete floor by those surging forward.

When I glance up?—

Wait …

Riku slinks on the opposite side of the ring. He’s hard to miss with his tightly shaved head and tattooed face.

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