Page 18 of Blood and Thorns (Twisted Ever After #1)

Arabella

Now that people had realised Sebastian was gone, it seemed fair game to stare.

People openly looked, their curiosity almost hostile as I tried not to recoil, instead meeting the gazes head on.

I recognised a few politicians, socialites, and even an actor that had been in the highest grossing movie this year.

I didn’t know what I expected when I agreed to take my father’s place, but a toy for Sebastian to display wasn’t it.

Especially amongst the designer clothes, diamond jewels, and I was pretty confident a guy over by the bar was wearing a watch that cost more than my entire year’s wage.

I was very much in a different tax bracket.

“Where do you think you’re going?” one of the twins asked when I went to lift the rope, and I froze.

Sebastian never explicitly said I had to stay by the booth. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Both men nodded in unison, their eyes laser focused on me. Stepping out, I pushed through the dancers to wander over to the bar.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked, arching a dark brow with two silver rings through it .

My lips snapped open to reply, but then I realised I didn’t have any money. And drinking away my sorrows when I didn’t usually drink alcohol probably wasn’t a good decision. But then again, I did agree to be Sebastian’s toy, so I wasn’t exactly someone who made good decisions in the first place.

“Is there a phone I could borrow?”

Her eyes slipped over my shoulder, and I stiffened when I turned, realising not one, but both of the twins were hovering behind me. They were far enough away not to hear my words, but close enough that their eyes bored into my back.

The bartender jerked her head, inviting me around the side. “You can use the staff room back here,” she said loudly, her smile aimed over my shoulder.

She held the door open to the staff room, which was a spacious area with a large table, several chairs as well as a large sofa, TV, and lockers. A private bathroom was to the left, beside an emergency exit.

“My mobile’s in the first locker,” the bartender said, her fingers reaching up to scratch at her scalp.

“Thank you.” Waiting until I was alone, I opened the locker to find the phone.

It didn’t have a code, so I immediately swiped it open, only to pause. I had no one to call. Not really. Dad was likely gone, packing his stuff up and running away like we did so many times before. Every time he’d caught himself in trouble, he’d force us to leave everything behind.

New number. New address.

Which meant even after all this, after I finally managed to pay Sebastian back, I wouldn’t know where to find him. I didn’t have friends, not unless I counted the nice old lady I chatted with every week at the coffee shop on the corner. And I could no longer call Suzy at work.

Taking a seat on the sofa I stared at the phone, long enough it timed out, the screen going dark. It had only just hit me how truly alone I was.

That if I disappeared, no one would miss me. Not even my father.

Fucking hell. I was a twenty-five-year-old woman with the social skills of a rabid hamster. I wanted to laugh at the shitshow that was me, but that probably wasn’t healthy, so I suppressed it until I could write it down in my notebook later.

To be fair to myself, I always struggled to make friends growing up. I was always called a little odd, and I was bullied for keeping to myself, preferring to read rather than play with others.

It was safer, that detachment. It was difficult as a kid to make friends and then disappear, never to see them again.

Luckily, I much preferred fictional people to real life, so I hadn’t dwelled on the fact I was a social outcast until now, when I wanted nothing more than to just… talk to someone.

I dialled Dad’s number from memory anyway, my chest aching as the ringing droned on before the click of his voicemail.

“Hi Dad, it’s me… I just… I wanted to see whether you were safe.

” There was a beat of silence, and I didn’t know what to say.

The disappointment of him not answering was crushing, even though I expected it. “Please take care of yourself.”

Putting the phone back, I re-entered behind the bar, moving around to take a stool. The twins stood closer, clearly not pleased with me disappearing into the back. Honestly, I was surprised they hadn’t followed.

“Did you do what you needed to?” the bartender asked, serving one of the patrons a glass of wine.

No, because I’m a loser with no friends . But of course I couldn’t admit that out loud, so instead I simply nodded. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she said, dropping her voice as her eyes dipped to my choker. “If anyone asks, I’ll deny it.”

My hand automatically went to the rose around my throat, the metal hard beneath my fingertips.

“People will be jealous of that,” she added. “Many of the girls have wanted to tame the big bad Beast. Even some of the men. But he’s never been caught with anyone. So watch your back.”

“That’s enough, Mia.” Twin number one came to stand on my left, close enough that his suit was pressed against my arm.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Micah,” she lied, keeping her face perfectly composed.

“Hmm.” Micah looked down at me with a touch of impatience, while his brother seemed bored. “You need to return to the booth.”

I slipped from the stool. “Thank you, again,” I told Mia. “I appreciate it.”

“See you around.” She winked before sticking her middle finger up at the twins. Micah sniggered, but the one on my left only gestured for me to step before him.

The stares hadn’t died down, especially considering I had two men escorting me back to my seat. Luckily, I could scoot around to the far side, essentially hiding myself in the shadowed corner while the twins took their positions at each side of the ropes.

Maybe I could get them to stand in front of me? Become human buffers?

“Sir.” The twins nodded, parting once more to let Langdon through.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, typing something before turning it to face me. Come with me.

I handed it back as I stood, the twins’ stares cutting as Langdon escorted me to the corridors where I’d first found him. “Are they staying behind?” I asked when I realised I no longer had two large shadows.

Langdon pursed his lips then nodded, his strides longer which forced me to hurry up. Passing the lift, we reached a set of black, ominous double doors that opened as we approached.

Bloody hell.

Sebastian had a fighting ring attached to his nightclub.

The space was smaller, the edges holding the same elegant design as the club, with its personal tables and high chandeliers. But in the centre was a lip where concrete met the carpet, and a ring seemingly erupting from the surface in a grand stage surrounded by lights.

Half the crowd was cheering, screaming at the fighters who currently circled one another, while the other half were drinking and chatting, seeming genuinely unbothered by the show of violence.

Two men fought bare knuckled inside the ring, their faces so swollen and covered in blood I doubted their own mothers would recognise them.

Following Langdon, he escorted me across the floor towards the front row of chairs on the right side of the ring. Coming to a stop, he glared down at the man who sat on the one at the end.

“Fuck off, mate,” the man grunted.

Langdon smiled, leaning down. Seconds later, the man went white as a ghost before scrambling to his feet.

“All yours!” he hurried to say.

Langdon tracked the man with his gaze as he disappeared into the crowd before looking over his shoulder at me. His jacket rustled, as if he was putting something back inside, and I glanced a sheen of black metal.

“Was that really necessary?” I asked, taking the seat when he gestured to it. “I could have stood in the corner.”

His upper lip curved into a smirk. Stay here. He typed out on his phone. You’ll be retrieved when he’s done.

Without waiting for me to reply, he turned on his heel, and I was left sitting on my own while the surrounding crowd whispered and pointed. Great .

Even the guy next to me was intentionally giving me his back.

At least the current fight had finished, both the men seeking treatment from a medical team just off to the side.

I actually had a good view of the ring, unobstructed.

I’d be more impressed if I cared about watching any act of gratuitous violence.

The idea that people enjoyed watching people fight was honestly barbaric.

Which was a shame because a new man just slipped beneath the ropes. He grinned to the crowd, waving and winking as he waltzed along the canvas. He must have been at least six three, maybe even four, with arms and legs the size of tree trunks.

Most people cheered, some even chanting, ‘Reaper.’

The name didn’t suit him; he was far too cheery. But then a hush came over the crowd, and my eyes immediately were drawn to the side. Sebastian wore nothing but black shorts, not even his mask as he calmly walked towards the centre, Caden at his side.

“In the right corner, with fifteen undefeated fights, we have the Grim Reaper!” The announcer waited a beat for the cheers to quieten before continuing. “In the left, our gracious host, and three times Styx heavyweight champion, Beast! ”

If I thought the crowd was loud before, they were feral now.

“Beast!”

“Beast!”

“Beast!”

The Grim Reaper’s smile vanished, his eyes narrowing on Sebastian as he slipped himself between the ropes. I sat, anxious as the two men waited. Caden stayed on the floor by the corner, Langdon joining him.

I could hear the shout of bets, of money being exchanged and arguments of who was going to win, but I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off Sebastian. His demeanour was cool, expression almost bored compared to Reaper’s enthusiasm.

After the initial shock of seeing Sebastian half naked, I noticed his chest seemed carved from granite, with a dusting of dark hair that arrowed down his stomach.

The thorns that I’d glimpsed on his hands and throat wrapped around his entire torso, entwined with a few black and grey roses on his ribs.

He turned to speak quietly to Caden, and I realised he had even more ink. ‘ Vincit qui se vincit’ was written across his shoulders in beautiful calligraphy, but his scars were thicker, more prominent along his back.

Rather than hide them, Sebastian seemed to embrace them. The tattoo artist incorporated the scars beautifully into the design

And then the lights dimmed, and the fight begun.

There was no warning before Reaper launched himself forward with a roar, only for Sebastian to duck flawlessly to the side, forcing Reaper to crash into the ropes and twist with a snarl.

It was like a choreographed dance, with Sebastian simply stepping away while Reaper tried and failed to land a hit .

Each of his movements were becoming more erratic, and then Sebastian hit back.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh was distinctive, the resulting grunts and then cheers of the crowd a cacophony of noise that I could barely hear over the blood rushing through my head.

Sebastian dominated the ring, powerful and self-assured.

His moves were aggressive, each punch landing with a crack that had the crowd going wild.

He barely made a sound when Reaper finally landed a hit to his face, seeming to roll with it rather than defend.

Almost toying with his opponent, who was already becoming weaker on his feet.

Sebastian was a force to be reckoned with, his lips curving into a feral smile as another one of his giant fists hit Reaper with an audible crunch, and as soon as he looked over and met my gaze, I stood and ran.