Chapter 32 Aurora
Aurora
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘I have to,’ Dove replies, peering through the windscreen of her car. ‘I was told Vance will be here tonight. It’s time I saw him on my terms. No more dodging his calls. No more wondering why the hell he’s back. It’s time for answers.’
I study the way she’s gnawing on her lip.
We’re referring to the man from her past by his name now.
I’m not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing.
But the longer Dr Vance Falcon has been back in England, with no sign of leaving, the more Dove’s been talking about him.
When I arrived at her house earlier this evening, after psyching myself up to tell her about me and Rafael, she whisked me out of the door before I could even catch a breath.
And that’s how we ended up here, sitting in her car in the dark, in a part of the city I’ve never been to before, and would happily never visit again.
‘Are you sure? It looks derelict.’ I stare at the grimy building, a shiver running up my spine. I’ve heard more police sirens going off in the distance tonight than on an episode of Police Interceptors.
‘There must be a bar in the basement. Look, there’s a bouncer,’ Dove says, unperturbed by yet another wailing siren a few streets away.
I follow her gaze and, sure enough, a giant, scary-looking bald guy stands beside a concealed door, scanning the alleyway, wearing an earpiece and dressed head to toe in black.
‘Come on.’ She opens her door and climbs out.
I rush to keep up as she strides to the bouncer with purpose.
‘Evening, darling,’ he drawls, eyes dropping over Dove’s tight jeans and loose, silky blouse. ‘You lost?’ His eyes pass to me, and he chuckles to himself, drinking in the low-cut dress I’m wearing.
‘We’re here for the whiskey.’ Dove gives him a calculating smile. ‘Heard they serve the good stuff downstairs.’
‘They might,’ big bouncer guy replies. ‘You can find out if your friend shows me her tits.’
His eyes return to me, and he drags his thick tongue over his lower lip. Bile rises up my windpipe.
‘How about I show you mine?’ Dove interjects, a steely look of determination on her face.
‘Dove!’ I hiss, but she flaps away my concern, reaching for the buttons of her blouse.
The bouncer’s eyes widen as the swell of Dove’s generous breasts come into view, cupped in a deep maroon bra.
‘Fuck, you were hiding that rack beneath that shirt, weren’t you, love?’ The bouncer practically salivates as Dove stands with her hands on her hips.
‘Now let us in,’ she says.
‘Nipples too,’ he says, with another leery drag of his tongue over his lip.
Dove pulls the cups of her bra down for a couple of seconds, and the bouncer groans and adjusts the crotch of his trousers.
‘Juicy titties you got there, love. How about a feel and I’ll give you the full VIP tour?’
‘Fuck off. A deal’s a deal,’ she says, pulling her bra up and buttoning her blouse.
He chuckles like it was worth a try and wraps his meaty fingers around the large metal pole-shaped handle, pulling the thick, heavy door open.
‘Enjoy the whiskey,’ he says, his hot breath hitting me in the face as we slide past him.
‘What the hell is this place?’ I whisper to her as we descend some metal steps, lit by a single bulb hanging from a cord above. The scent of something metallic fills my nostrils as we reach the door at the bottom.
‘Well, I think it’s safe to say it isn’t just a bar,’ Dove says, linking her hand in mine. ‘You good?’
My heart’s hammering against my ribs. We could be about to walk into a drug lord’s den, or a brothel, or an organ-harvesting backstreet operating theatre.
I swallow thickly and nod. ‘Yeah. You?’
‘We’re here now. Let’s do this,’ she says, sounding much more confident than the clamminess of her palm suggests.
I take a deep breath as Dove opens the door and we walk through.
The inside space is dark and cramped. Hundreds of bodies stand shoulder to shoulder, jostling around, yelling and shouting. Glasses are thrust about wildly, the liquor inside them sloshing out and landing on clothing. But no one notices. No one cares. They’re all too busy looking at something.
‘What the hell?’ I squeak, squeezing Dove’s hand. She squeezes mine back and weaves us through the heaving crowd.
The scent of male sweat and cigarette smoke tickles my throat as the crowd swells around us, curse words flying, then suddenly replaced by cheers.
We move closer to the source of their attention, and the sound of flesh hitting flesh increases over the raucous yelling.
Dove freezes, her attention fixing on a man standing inside a wide, empty circle on the dank concrete floor. His silver-flecked hair is slick with sweat as he wipes his forehead with the back of his forearm. His hands are bound with gauze, and he’s shirtless.
The crowd moves, blocking out our view of his opponent, circling him inside the ring. The older guy spits some blood out on the floor, raising his fists back in front of his muscular torso.
‘Vance?’ Dove utters, her eyes widening.
There’s no way he heard her, but it’s like he can sense her presence, because he looks straight up and directly at us both, standing at the edge of the ring.
The momentary distraction provides his opponent a window of opportunity, and he swoops on it. The ripple of tattooed, corded back muscles is all I see before Vance is punched in the jaw and sent staggering.
The crowd erupts into another mass of curses and cheers as he drops to the floor, out cold.
A man calls out, ‘Hell’s Guardian! Undefeated champion.’
I look at Dove. She’s staring at the scene in shock.
A guy behind us roars with anger. ‘I lost a grand because of that piece of shit!’ he snarls.
I yank on Dove’s hand as the atmosphere around us plummets, and angry, liquor-fuelled men yell out threats and obscenities.
‘We need to leave,’ I shout over the noise of the crowd.
A huge hulk of a man looks at the two of us like a shark that has caught the scent of blood.
‘What’s the rush, darlin’?’ he says, reaching out and pulling me to him with a bruising grip on my hip.
The move makes Dove’s hand slip from mine, and I whip my head around in time to see the space between us fill with thick bodies.
‘Dove?’ I shout, wriggling in the man’s grasp.
His grip tightens on my hip, and he pulls me against him. ‘Feisty, huh? Save the fight for later. It’ll make it more fun.’ His other hand drops to the hem of my dress and ice-cold fear slithers up my spine. I can’t fight him off. He’s twice my size.
He slides his hand up the inside of my thigh and I push at it hopelessly, digging my nails into his flesh with no effect. His thumb grazes the edge of my underwear, and I look into his dilated pupils.
He gives me a leery smile.
‘Get your hands off her!’
My throat seizes. I know that voice.
The guy’s head snaps to the side in a blur of flesh and crunching bone. The tight grip he had on me disintegrates.
‘Rafael?’ I scream. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
He towers over the guy, who’s bending, wiping at his bloody mouth. ‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he says to me, his attention fixed on the guy who’s now glowering at him and cracking his knuckles.
‘Neither should you!’
He’s dressed all in black. Black joggers, and a black t-shirt straining over his broad chest and hugging his thick biceps. But the guy who just tried to feel me up is wider than him and looks like he could get hit by a 747 and not feel a thing.
The crowd gathers around us like they’re getting a free show.
‘That your girl?’ The guy sniggers, his hungry eyes flicking to me. ‘Pretty sure I got the scent of her snatch on my fingers when I touched her just now.’ He lifts his hand to his nose and makes a show of inhaling. ‘Mm. Smells like she likes me.’
Rafael grabs the guy’s hand so fast he doesn’t have time to react. A sickening snap rings out as he forces his fingers back towards his forearm.
‘That’s for putting your disgusting fingers on her. I should rip them off and choke you with them!’
He grabs my hand and pulls me through the crowd.
‘Wait! What about Dove?’ I cry.
‘Angelo’s got her,’ he snaps, punching open the door that leads to the stairs and outside.
I stumble along beside him, trying to keep up. Despite the way his chest’s heaving, and his muscles are literally vibrating with adrenaline right now, he has an eerie control about him.
I gulp in the cool night air as we rush up the alleyway. There’s no sign of the bouncer any more.
‘What the hell were you doing there?’ Rafael spits, leading me down the street and around a dark corner. The lights on his car flash and he opens the door, slamming it behind me after I scrabble into the seat.
‘What was I doing there? What were you doing there?’ I gasp as I struggle to get my hands to stop shaking for long enough to fasten my seatbelt.
Rafael leans across me and clicks it into place roughly, then starts the engine and screeches out into the road.
‘Do you fight there?’ I ask.
His face is a mask of cold, ruthless composure as we speed through the streets.
‘Are you going to answer me?’
‘Do you have any idea the danger you put yourself in?’ he spits. ‘Do you?’
The cold detachment in his eyes as he flicks them to me makes my breath catch in my throat. ‘Dove wanted to see Vance.’
Rafael sucks in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring. ‘So you thought you’d play outings with her? For fuck’s sake, Aurora.’
‘I had no idea what that place was!’ I shout back. ‘You told me you were going to your parents’ house.’
‘I did.’
‘And then you went there to fight? Why?’
‘I wasn’t fighting.’
‘You get off on watching it, then?’
‘No! I was there to make sure my brother didn’t get himself killed.’
‘Angelo?’ I question, because no way can I see Gabe in a place like that.
Rafael’s jaw hardens.
‘You broke some guy’s hand,’ I splutter.
‘I should have broken his neck,’ he seethes.
‘What?’
He thumps the steering wheel. ‘I love you, Aurora! What the hell do you think I’m going to do when I see a sleazeball touching you?’