Page 27 of Emmy's Ride

I barely had time to register the movement before Austin easily deflected his blows. Then he lunged, his fist colliding with the man’s face in a sickening crack. The guy went down hard,crumpling against a table, knocking over drinks and scattering chips from an illegal betting pot.

Another man, bigger and meaner looking, took the opportunity to swing at Austin, his knuckles grazing his jaw. The hit barely fazed him. Austin moved like a predator, fluid and precise, dodging the next swing before delivering a brutal uppercut. Blood sprayed from the guy’s mouth as he staggered back, eyes rolling.

My instincts were screaming at me to back away, to put distance between myself and the chaos. But I couldn’t—not when Austin was in the middle of it, fists flying, body a blur of raw power.

It was a brutal dance, a whirlwind of movement—men grunting, cursing, grappling for dominance. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh echoed through the warehouse, but Austin never hesitated, never faltered.

Then I saw it. A flash of silver. A knife.

“Austin!” I screamed, shoving forward.

Everything slowed.

Austin spun just as the blade slashed through the air, barely missing his eye but cutting across his forehead. A thin line of red appeared almost instantly, blood trickling down his temple.

But Austin didn’t stop. With a growl, he grabbed the bastard by the collar, slamming his skull against the concrete wall with a loud crunch. The man went limp, sliding to the ground, unconscious.

Austin panted, chest heaving with deep, controlled breaths. He turned, his eyes locking on to mine, and something fierce passed between us.

“Let’s go,” he ordered, voice tight.

He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the pandemonium.

People were still fighting, beer bottles smashing, the crowd surging and shifting like a violent tide. My pulse pounded in my ears as I gripped Austin’s hand tighter, following his lead as he navigated through the mess.

The cool night air was like the answer to a prayer when we finally burst through the exit. Austin didn’t stop until we were far away from the warehouse, his grip on my wrist still firm but not painful.

He turned to me, eyes dark, wild, still high on adrenaline. “You okay?”

I could only nod, my throat too constricted to speak.

He exhaled harshly, running a hand through his blood-streaked hair. His fingers came away red, but he didn’t seem to care. He was still watching me, his features schooled, but the concern was there.

And maybe something else too. Something that made my chest ache.

I didn’t resist when Austin led me to the car, his hold ever present on my hand as if he expected me to break apart at any moment.

Because I was breaking.

Not from fear. Not from the fight. But from the truth I could no longer deny.

I still loved him.

The ride to the clubhouse was quiet. Too much time to think. There was something else, something more personal that I needed to know. It had been bothering me since I found out. Ishifted in my seat, glancing at Austin briefly before looking back out the window. “Did you know about Luke fighting?”

The question hung there in the air, punctuated only by the sound of the engine and the swish of tires on pavement. I hadn’t really meant to ask it—not like that anyway—but the words felt like they’d been waiting inside me. Since I’d found out from Candy, I felt betrayed by Austin for not telling me back then.

He didn’t look at me, eyes straight ahead. He exhaled slowly as though considering whether he should speak or just let the silence stretch on. When he finally answered, it was reluctantly. “Yeah.”

I forced myself to stay calm. “So, you knew he was putting himself in danger? All this time? And you didn’t tell me?”

Austin’s grip on the wheel tightened, but his eyes remained glued to the road. “Luke asked me not to tell you. I didn’t feel it was my place to tell you, Em. He was trying to handle it his way. He didn’t want you worrying. He didn’t want you worrying about him.”

“Worrying about him?” I spat, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “I was already worrying about him. I was afraid every damn day something would happen to him. But I didn’t know he was out there, fighting in those... those underground rings, risking his life for money. For me.”

“The world isn’t clean, Em,” Austin replied. “Sometimes, people do things they don’t wanna talk about. And I get it... I know why he did it. He wanted you to have the best he could provide. He wanted to protect you.”

My eyes stung, and I quickly blinked back the moisture building behind the lids. “Did you think ‘protecting’ me meant keeping me in the dark about everything?”

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