Page 76 of Pulse
Chapter 23
Ren
Standing in the darkness outside The Underground, I clutched Ash’s hand.
People passed us on their way inside, casting glances our way, and I shifted nervously. It’d been well over six months since I’d set foot inside the run-down warehouse that had changed my life. I’d floated through the few months afterAsh’dgone with blinkers on, hardly noticing the people around me, but now it felt different.
Hammer was inside. Hammer was here. Hammer was fighting.
I felt sick.
“Okay?” Ash asked, pulling me against him.
“Nervous,” I admitted.
“You’ll be okay. I’m with you.” He stepped forward, practically dragging me with him. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Rip it off like a Band-Aid?”
“Exactly.”
Taking a deep breath, I tightened my grip on his hand and we walked into the warehouse. It was filling quickly for that night’s bouts, even though the new season hadn’t even started yet. Through the dull lighting, I could make out a banner hanging on the top of the cage that read ‘Exhibition Match’. Which was just code for ‘fighting for fun’ until the real game began.
I couldn’t help but notice the stares as we weaved through the throng of people. The din seemed to mellow as we made a beeline to the referee’s office out back. It’d been much longer sinceAsh’dbeen here and that was the fight that he’d almost beat that guy to death. The one who’d tried to force himself on me out in the change rooms. I cast my gaze down, feeling more isolated than I had when I’d been here on my own.
Ash squeezed my hand as the noise around us began to raise again.
“Don’t let them see that you’re worried Spitfire,” he murmured into my ear. “They can smell it.”
“How are you so calm?” I retorted.
He grimaced. “I’m not.” He tugged on my hand. “I know what they’re thinking and I definitely know what they’re saying behind our backs, but they’ll see.”
I hoped so because right now I was feeling overwhelmed.
We walked through the crowd, trying our best to ignore the whispers and the gossip that was beginning to spread like wildfire, and disappeared into the fighter only area. Security eyed us with caution, but let us pass into the hall.
Ash knocked sharply on the door that I knew was the referee’s office before opening it. I’d never been inside, and it was a stretch calling it an office, because it was just a room with a desk, a couch and a fridge. It looked more like a break room at some dirty construction site than anything else. A slap dash attempt at looking legit.
The head referee was sitting behind the desk, a beer in front of him and a whiteboard covered in messy scrawl. It looked like the draw for the opening round of the new Championship.
“Fucking hell,” the ref drawled when he laid eyes on Ash. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“Nice to see you too, Max.”
I rose an eyebrow. The guy’s name was Max? Nobody gave their names out here, except for Ash, but he’d had a death wish. That could only mean that the two men had been on good terms once. Well, at least good enough for real names to be exchanged.
I stepped back and closed the door, trying to get my head on straight.
“We thought we lost you for good,” he went on, nodding at me. “Are you coming back?”
“Yes,” I replied, glancing at Ash.
