Page 26 of Emmy's Ride

I could feel Austin’s presence at my back, solid and unmoving, a silent guardian as we wove through the crowd. His hand found the small of my back, a gentle yet possessive touch.

“So what’s the play? Are we going to start asking around, approach anyone who looks…cagey?” I probably shouldn’t have chuckled at my own joke.

Austin sighed and ran a hand down his face. “See, this is why you shouldn’t have come. This isn’t a Sunday social. Around here, you don’t ask questions. That’s a sure way to get your ass handed to you.”

He pointed to the bar in the back, surprisingly not packed like the rest of the place. “Go sit at the bar and don’t move. I’m going to go talk to a guy.”

“Why can’t I come?” I really didn’t want to be separated from Austin. The place gave me the creeps, and to think my brother was a regular here, fighting to give me a better life. Frustration burned in my chest. I refused to believe Luke had been here and left no trace. Someone knew something.

My gaze went from the mob of screaming fight fans to Austin’s unwavering eyes. He didn’t need to say a word. I gave him a nod and headed toward the bar, choosing a seat by a woman, hoping to be left alone.

The woman’s blonde hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, a faded scar running from her eyebrow to her cheekbone. She sipped from a beer bottle, her eyes darting toward the ring as she spoke.

“You new here?” she asked, giving me a quick onceover.

“Something like that.” I hesitated before adding, “I’m looking for someone.”

The woman hummed, taking another drink. “Ain’t we all?”

Holding on to my composure with a death grip, I chose my words carefully. “I think he used to fight here. Years ago. And I heard he might’ve been back recently.”

The woman’s interest piqued slightly. “What’s his name?”

Before I could answer, my gaze drifted beyond her, landing on a man standing near the edge of the crowd. My stomach dropped. I knew him. I couldn’t place exactly how, but I’d seen him before. And then I did remember. I’d seen him with Luke several times, years ago, when I lived at home. He’d always made my skin crawl, and I’d asked Luke why he wanted to be friends with someone like that. He’d told me to mind my own business.

The woman noticed where my attention had gone and stiffened. “You don’t wanna be looking at him too long, sweetheart.”

“Why?” I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady.

“Because he’s Satan reincarnate,” she said simply. “And he don’t like people prying into his business. He’s been banned from fighting here. That should tell you something about a person when they fight too dirty for an underground operation.”

I swallowed, my pulse hammering. “Do you know his name?”

The woman hesitated, then nodded. “They call him Riker. He’s a nasty son of a bitch. Just last week, I saw him beat a man so bad he had to be dragged outta here. And it wasn’t even in the ring. I’d gone to the bathroom and saw them in one of the back rooms.”

Ice slid through my veins, and the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. I had that feeling.

I turned my phone on and pulled up a picture of Luke. “Was this the man he beat up?”

The woman’s lips pressed together as she studied the photo. “Yeah, that’s him. I remember now. Is this the guy you’re looking for?”

My breath lurched, and I nodded. “He’s my brother. Please. Do you remember when?”

The knowing look of regret on the woman’s face, like she knew the chances of finding Luke alive were slim, brought tears to my eyes. “A few weeks back, I guess. Bad fight. Riker was on him, and when it was over…” She shook her head. “Your boy didn’t walk out of here on his own.”

“Someone carried him out?” I whispered, barely able to get the words past the lump in my throat.

The woman nodded. “Yeah. Two other guys. Like a damn sack of potatoes. He was beat to hell.”

I barely heard Austin step up behind me, his body radiating tension. “Who took him?” he asked.

The woman looked Austin up and down before she shook her head again. “Don’t know. I turned away after that. Figured it wasn’t my business.”

Anger and fear twisted inside me like a storm. Luke had been here. He had been hurt. And someone had taken him away.

Before I could say anything else, a vicious roar erupted from the crowd as a brawl broke out near the ring, men shoving, swinging, shouting. The air shifted in an instant—what had been simmering tension expanded into full-blown violence. Bodies surged, fists flying, chairs scraping against the concrete floor as people scrambled to either join in or get the hell out of the way.

A big, woolly-looking man came flying through the air and would have landed square on me, but Austin reacted instantly, grabbing the man by the shirt and literally tossing him to the ground. Woolly jumped up quickly for a large man and started swinging.

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