ring!” He laughed, then turned for the door and gestured for me to follow him. “Everyone parks in the back or down the street. I figured you wouldn’t know where to go since it’s your first time.”
The heavy metal door creaked as he pulled it open, but when we stepped inside the warehouse, I grabbed his shoulder. “Thanks, man, I appreciate it.” Then I lowered my voice. “You can go now.”
He dropped the bravado to give me a rare serious look. “Nah, I think I’ll stay.”
Stupid petty criminal. I sighed, but he was already walking away before I could say more. I was trying to save him from getting arrested, and he was sticking by my side out of some misguided sense of loyalty? Fine, his problem. I had to stay focused.
I texted Donna, knowing my phone would probably be taken at any moment.
Heading in now.
Shady led me past rows of dilapidated, rusting machinery and sagging conveyor belts. The rest of the space was bare, covered in dust and grime. Broken windows high above our heads let in beams of weak light as rats scurried in the shadows.
We rounded a corner, and several floodlights set on high stands flared to life. I pulled up short and squinted, my eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.
Two figures stood in the middle of the starkly lit area. Two men, and no one else.
My whole body tensed, hands curling into fists at my sides. Something had gone very wrong.
The space did indeed look as though it was set up for a fight. A rough circle had been painted on the dirty concrete floor, plenty of space around it, and there was a balcony overhead on one side with what looked like empty offices behind the railing. But clearly, I was the only one who’d come here expecting to see an illegal fight ring.
“Hendrix Hawthorn.” The man standing next to Will had the same brown hair, the same build, the same sneering mouth. They even stood in the same pose. Will’s dad had his hands in the pockets of his long coat, worn over a suit and tie, while Will’s were in the pockets of his Fulton Academy varsity jacket. “I’ve been told you want to settle a score with my son.” A pause, a cold grin. “Have at it.”
Will rolled his neck, his full focus on me.
I gritted my teeth and threw a murderous look at Shady.
He just flashed me that stupid grin. “You’re a cool dude, but business is business.”
That spineless son of a bitch. He retreated to lean against the staircase leading up to the balcony, whipping his phone out as if he was already bored.
“You see, the thing about dealing with criminals is you have to remember they’re self-serving at their core,” Mr. Frydenberg explained to me as if he were giving a lecture. “They’re always going to do what’s in their best interest. And Shady here is going to prosper greatly from our new mutually beneficial arrangement.”
Shady just gave him a thumbs-up, hardly even raising his eyes from his screen.
“Criminals and businessmen both,” I said, rolling my shoulders.
He laughed low. Will took off the varsity jacket and draped it over the railing next to Shady, loosening up too.
I was going to beat his ass into this disgusting concrete until his every breath was a gurgle. His dad looked as if he’d hardly stepped foot on a treadmill in a decade, his gut poking out of his coat—it wouldn’t take much to get him on his ass either. Shady would be running by then; that’s what rats do. But I’d catch him. I’d chase him down and . . .
And . . .
Austin’s face flashed in my mind, his eyes wide but unseeing, blood slowly pooling around his head. For a split second, I was back on that street in New York, once again realizing what I’d done. How irrevocable it was.
I had so much adrenaline pumping through my system, so much rage and outrage, my body practically screamed at me to start throwing punches. But I also felt sick to my stomach. All three of the men standing before me were the lowest kind of trash, but I refused to take another life. I couldn’t have that on my conscience. Not again. Not ever again.
I forced myself to take a deep breath, flex my fingers and not curl them back into fists. I knew I’d walk away from this broken in more ways than I could count—if I even walked