Chapter 16 Yulian #2
I jog out of the room and into the tunnel.
The crowd’s chants turn deafening as I head toward the ring, many of them reaching hands out to touch me in between the vigilant shoves of my guards.
This place is a nightmare for my security and Cy, but everyone knows I live down here, in the underground, amongst monsters, pummeling my way to the top.
Some people do it for the glory, the power, the title of champion, but I do it for the journey itself—the actual act of violence.
The screams and shouts heighten at the sight of my opponent. Nikolai.
Of course it’s Nikolai. He’s always around here. Not as much as me, but close enough.
As adrenaline junkies, we love the fuck out of this place.
He jumps into the ring, hopping in place and punching the air. All of his weird tattoos are on display, and his long hair is held in a bun. Nikolai and I are about the same size, both muscled and big, so it’s often a close match, depending on who’s feeling more murderous.
“Ready to go down, bitch?” he taunts, circling me as soon as I jump over.
“That’s what I should ask, little bitch.” I grin.
“Oh, you’re fucked. You’re so fucked. Totally coming over and raiding your mansion later tonight.”
“Uh, just in case no one pointed this out, you kind of, sort of shouldn’t reveal your plan.”
“Well, I’m telling you, and it’ll still succeed.”
The referee announces the start, and he comes at me full force, but I put my guard up, because I’m used to Nikolai. I love how he has zero hesitation about anything. His friend could learn a thing or two from him.
Yeah, no. I’m not thinking about Vaughn when I have an eighty percent chance of being pummeled to death by this brute mountain-like man.
I hit back and we exchange some blows in the midst of the crowd’s shouts and chants.
See, I live for that fraction of a second when fists clash and bodies slam together in a beautiful manifestation of violence.
“So who will come to raid my mansion?” I ask when I hold him in a guard position.
“Me and everyone in the Heathens, of course.”
“And they’ll follow you?”
He shoves me away and jumps back. “The fuck is that supposed to mean? Of course they will.”
“Not sure I buy that.”
“This motherfucker.” He punches me, and I hold him, then kick him in the chin, sending him to the ground.
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, but…
” I look down on him, adopting a sympathetic tone—yes, I learned provocation tactics from Cy.
“We all know no one listens to you in that place, Niko. Jeremy is the leader, Killian and Gareth are the brains, and you’re just…
oh, what’s it called? The muscle. Easily replaceable and discardable. I feel so sorry for you.”
He jumps up and hits me across the cheek. My face flies to the side, blood spilling onto the canvas. “Feel sorry for yourself, motherfucker.”
I laugh. “Listen, if you manage to raid my mansion with all the members on your side, including Vaughn, I’ll take what I said back.”
“You think I can’t?” He lunges at me again, but I stop him, the weight of my body balancing his.
“As I said, I have doubts.”
“I’ll show you, you little fuck.”
“Please do.” I smile—more like laugh, really. Maybe I need to turn my threats to Vaughn about pursuing Nikolai into reality after all.
Hmm—
I lift my head and pause, my eyes widening.
Not sure why I even looked up in the first place. Call it instinct or a sixth sense, but something told me I had to.
And I’m glad I did.
I’m instantly drawn to a figure across from me in the stands, clad entirely in black, his face lost beneath the brim of a low baseball cap.
Wait. Is that Vaughn—
My ears ring, and I crash to the ground at Nikolai’s brutish punch. A metallic taste explodes in my mouth, and I cough up blood through my guards as I jump up despite the pain.
When I search again, Vaughn—no, the man I thought was Vaughn isn’t there. The place where he was standing is now empty, and everyone is shouting and banging and talking and talking and fucking talking…
No, no, no, fuck no.
I jump out of the ring, not caring about Nikolai and everyone calling out and telling me to get back in there.
There’s a high chance my wild imagination is conjuring him up again, as I do sometimes.
Okay, all the time.
But anyway, if it is Vaughn, I can’t let him indulge in his favorite hobby—running away.
I shove through the crowd, shouting at the guards to clear a path for me, because the last thing I need is people getting in my way.
When I finally arrive outside, a sports car revs out of the parking lot.
But not before I catch a glimpse of him through the driver’s window.
I see the man who’s plaguing my dreams and nightmares, and a wide, almost manic grin curves my lips.
You know, Cy is wrong.
Yes, Vaughn and I are different breeds, and yes, he’d probably win in a chess game—what are the rules for that anyway?—but it’s not always the brainy people who get the upper hand.
The thing is, I’m not the one who keeps crossing the sea for six hours or more and showing up on a different continent—it’s the other way around.
Some might argue that I’m a fucking pest with my texts, but I don’t go to harass him in person.
At any rate, Vaughn is here, not for his friends, since he wasn’t with Jeremy and Killian on Nikolai’s side, but for me.
And I’ll be damned if I let him go this time.
So I hop on my new bike, nameless because I refuse to cheat on Zver, and indulge in my new favorite hobby.
Chase.