53. Santiago
SANTIAGO
Because of the cuts, I had to double wrap my hands so the bleeding wouldn’t start all over again.
Glancing at the clock on the wall, I saw I had two minutes left.
Using my teeth, I cut the tape, then secured the straps before checking the wraps.
Clenching and opening my palms, it only stung a little—nothing I couldn’t handle.
I jumped from the couch, giving my body a little shake to release the stress.
I shouldn’t be here, not after that asshole tried to kill me—again.
And yet, after sitting on my kitchen floor for an hour, I realized something very basic: I could never live with myself, knowing I’d left the man I loved to drown.
Already coming to terms with the fact that loving him would most likely cost me my life, I figured that if I ended up back behind bars tomorrow or worse, dead, then at least I followed my heart. And while I understood it was unfair to my brother, I also didn’t know how to quit.
How to quit Ariyan.
None of this made me feel good, and by now, I repulsed myself. Just thinking of him made me both sick and desperate in the same breath, and not sure if I wanted to hurl or cry, I settled for the one thing I knew I was good at: fighting.
Whenever it came to him, I acted on instinct, moving like a drunk person fumbling in the dark, searching for his poison. Every kiss felt like another sip, every fuck another high, serving as a quick fix for the deep thirst settling in my core—one that could never truly be satisfied.
To his credit, he’d warned me I’d regret it, promising that eventually I’d realize I was deep in the gutter.
That moment was long overdue, but even covered in shit, I didn’t regret him.
What killed me beyond everything else was that I knew he felt something for me, but it simply didn’t matter.
In the end, he only had one thing on his mind, and he wouldn’t stop, no matter what stood in the way—including his own heart.
I’m not broken. I’m empty.
I knew I’d told him that I was fine with whatever he was, but was I really? After what happened today, were my words still valid? I didn’t know.
A slam on the door told me it was time, and I left the room.
Tonight was busier than usual, and I scanned the scene, a bit hopeful to see him.
But as my eyes darted from one person to the next, something odd caught my attention—Dion.
The guy was the only guest in here not wearing a mask, but ignoring this detail, some bodyguard was whispering something in his ear.
Dion’s brows drew together, and he looked dead-ass mad right before he started moving.
Something about his expression caught my suspicion, and so I followed him from across the room until he and two of his men walked through a hidden door.
It raised my alarms because why would he suddenly leave?
He’d seemed beyond eager to watch the fight earlier, saying how I’d face one of his best fighters.
What was more, why use some hidden door and not take his shitty elevator?
My stomach told me something bad was about to happen, so instead of stepping into the ring, I went back into the fighters’ room.
Grabbing my phone, I checked the time, considering calling Ari, when shouting came from behind the door.
Police.
My eyes went wide, but not about to linger and get caught, I grabbed a hoodie from the couch, put it on, and dashed out of the room.
Just as I feared, the police had raided the place, already arresting people and shutting it down.
It was too late to run toward Dion’s hidden exit, and with everyone panicking, there wasn’t much to do until I remembered seeing an egress window in the fighters’ bathroom.
I snuck back into the room, ran over to the toilets, and blessed whoever placed that window there.
Looking at the small window, it probably led to one of the alleys behind the building, and hopefully, the cops weren’t smart enough to put men there.
Opening the window, I checked its width.
It was a bit narrow, and I feared I wouldn’t fit, but after hearing the K-9s barking, I wasn’t about to stall for time.
Grabbing the frame, I put a leg on the toilet, then pulled myself up.
I would have gotten stuck if this window had been an inch narrower, but thankfully, it wasn’t, and I found myself out in the street.
Looking up, I could see the moon peeking from between the clouds, and just as I figured, it was the back alley.
Police lights flashed in the far corner of the street, letting me know what direction I should stay away from.
Covering my head with the hoodie, I wasted no time and got my ass moving, running the other way.
The whole time, my heart was in my fucking throat, but at least Ari wasn’t here, or else, I’d die of worry.
But hold on a second—what if he knew something would happen?
Dion told him I was here tonight—I’d heard him over the phone—and yet, he stayed away.
Could he have been the one to direct the police here, just in spite of our fight?
“You! Stop right there!”
My heart paused, and I wanted to run for it when I heard the sound of a gun cocking.
Fuck.
“God damn it, stop before I shoot!”
Swearing, I held still.
“Put your hands where I can see them.”
The voice was getting closer, but I didn’t dare to turn and look behind me.
“I said, put your hands up where I can see them!” the officer shouted.
My pulse escalated, and I swore under my breath. Not because I’d just gotten caught, but because I knew this policeman so well that, even with my back to him, I recognized his voice.
After all, he was the man whose heart I broke not too long ago, and once again, life proved to be one hell of a bitch.
To be continued…