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CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

GARY

I stood there, staring at the lock on the door, until the stairwell door slammed open. Slapping my hands over my mouth, I muffled my shriek. Please don’t know which room, please don’t know which room.

Backing up slowly, I stared at the door, waiting. The handle jiggled once, then he pounded on the door loud enough to make me jump. “Open up!”

He waited a second before trying again. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not into it. Just open the damn door. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Liar. If he actually meant that, he would’ve stopped when I told him to. I kept my hands over my mouth, my vision still blurry from so many knocks to the head.

Finally, he gave up, and I heard him suck his teeth in irritation.

“Not fucking worth it,” he growled, and the elevator dinged a few minutes later.

I wasn’t stupid enough to open the door to check if he was gone.

Instead, I called Easton, and it rang until it went to voicemail before I remembered it was fight night.

Coach was supposed to be with him, so I called Angel instead.

“Hey, shortie. Bored without your boyfriend?” he teased.

“Angel…” My plea came out as a sob, and his voice turned serious.

“Gary? What happened? What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t answer him. All the emotions that I’d been holding back hit me at once, and I sank to my knees, my whole body shaking as I sobbed into the phone.

“Where are you? I’m on my way.”

I shook my head, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see me. “N-No! It’s not safe!”

He growled a very un-angelic sound that would’ve made my arm hairs stand up if I wasn’t still reeling from the attack. “I can handle myself, Gary. Where are you?”

I shook my head helplessly again. “I-I just want Easton. C-can you call him?”

He sighed heavily. “No. He’s at a fight right now. Will you let me come get you if I bring Coach? He was supposed to go with Easton, but he’s running behind. He’s still here.”

I whimpered out an acknowledgement. Not even my attacker would face down Coach. Right?

Waiting for them to arrive was torture. I couldn’t move.

I sat on the floor and trembled, hugging my arms around myself for some form of comfort.

Easton’s hoodie didn’t smell like Easton anymore.

Now it smelled like blood and dirt. I wanted to take it off, but I also couldn’t make myself move to do it. It was the only comfort I had.

I startled hard and screamed when someone knocked on the door.

“Gary? It’s me, Angel. Open up.”

It took a minute, both from the pain and from the fear.

I felt nauseous when I reached for the handle, paranoid that my attacker got a recording of Angel’s voice and would barge in the second I opened the door.

I forgot completely about the peephole. Cracking the door, I peeked out, and a sob of relief escaped me when I saw Angel and Coach standing on the other side.

Yanking open the door, I threw myself at Angel. He caught me, just barely, but he didn’t complain about me almost knocking him over. He hugged me tight, petting my hair and shushing me gently.

“It’s okay. Shh… You’re safe now.”

“We should get him inside his room, just in case,” Coach urged.

I shook my head quickly without looking up. “Easton…”

Angel sighed and nodded. “I know. We’ll go to him instead. Can you walk?”

Not with the way I was clinging to him, but I was afraid to let go. I was all alone tonight. The guy waited until I was unprotected to come after me. I didn’t want to be alone again.

Neither of them rushed me or made me move until I was ready.

Angel tucked himself up against my side with an arm around my waist, supporting me while Coach locked my door for me.

He took my other side, his hand resting on my upper back supportively.

Even with them protecting me, I was terrified of going outside.

We didn’t go through the front door, instead going down to the basement and out the back entrance.

That’s how they got in without a key. The door was broken. I would freak out about that later.

My head was on a swivel, and I jumped at every sound while Coach unlocked Angel’s car and nudged us both into the back seat. When Angel scowled at him, Coach rolled his eyes.

“I’m not letting you behind the wheel again. You nearly killed us both trying to get us here. Besides, you don’t know where you’re going.”

Angel stuck his tongue out, but just the thought of him leaving me alone back here scared me, and I snagged the edge of his shirt, clinging to it desperately. He sighed and patted my hand gently.

“It’s okay, Gary. I’m not going to have you sitting back here alone. Coach is just being an asshole. I drive just fine.”

Coach scoffed and shut the back door, locking it with the key fob behind him so we were safely locked in while he went around the car to the front. I looked, but I didn’t see any sign of anyone watching us in the parking lot. I still didn’t let go of Angel, though.

“Fuck, you’re tiny,” Coach grunted. He couldn’t even get in the driver’s seat without forcing it all the way backward first. He had to adjust the wheel and recline the seat to make room for his massive frame.

“You’re ruining all my settings,” Angel complained.

“Are you even legally allowed to drive?” Coach grouched.

Their banter was teasing, not cruel, and once we were moving, it distracted me enough to keep me from crying the whole ride there.

I focused intently on their conversation, and every time my mind tried to replay what had happened and tears spilled over my cheeks, Angel’s grip tightened and he petted my hair again.

We pulled up outside of what looked like an abandoned warehouse in the middle of a bunch of other abandoned buildings.

There were tons of cars in the parking lot, though, and a few bouncers at the door.

Coach parked in a marked spot near the front and came around to my door to help me out.

He led me away once Angel locked up and took my hand again, and the bouncers didn’t look twice as he stomped past. Once we got farther into the warehouse, I could hear shouts and jeers and my anxiety shot through the roof.

Like he could sense it, Coach turned around to look at me.

“I’ll lead the way. All you have to do is follow. You can hold the back of my shirt if it makes it easier.”

I appreciated the gesture and accepted, fisting the back of his shirt, my other hand still clinging to Angel, who didn’t look bothered at all about being here.

He glared at anyone who got too close, and together, he and Coach led me through the rowdy crowd to an area off to the side where fighters were wrapping their knuckles and warming up.

“W-Where’s Easton?”

Coach tipped his head towards the fight already underway. I hadn’t been brave enough to look before.

“He’s in the middle of a fight. Come on. You can sit down over here and wait for him.” He led me over to some chairs, but I couldn’t settle long enough to sit. It felt like all eyes were on me, even though logically I knew no one was paying attention to me. They were focused on the fight.

Angel hugged my shoulders, rubbing my arms rough enough to warm me up without hurting me. I was still shaking.

“Just watch the fight. I always thought Phantom was art in motion when he was fighting. He doesn’t love easily, but he absolutely loves being in that ring.”

I could see what he meant. Easton was covered in sweat, had several bruises already along his torso, and blood was smeared along his chest, but he was smiling.

The only other time I saw him look like that was when we were having sex.

Half feral but fully overjoyed to be there.

He dipped and dodged flying fists, cackling if his opponent actually got a hit in before coming back at him tenfold.

I got the feeling he was toying with the guy because there were at least a dozen times where Easton could’ve gotten in a hit that he ignored.

Focusing on him helped a little. He was always good at distracting me. I felt some of the adrenaline settle. I still wanted him, like an ache in my chest, but I was okay waiting as long as I could see him.

His opponent got in another hit, and Easton’s head snapped to the side.

The look that overtook his face was malicious elation.

He kicked out, sending the guy to his knees, and it looked like he was going to rain hell, but his eyes flicked over the crowd, almost like a habit, and when they landed on me, he froze.

It gave his opponent a chance to get to his feet, and I gasped when the guy tackled him to the ground. Easton flipped them in the last minute, slammed his elbow into the guy’s face, and knocked him out cold. It was that simple. He didn’t need to drag it out.

The announcer shouted Easton’s win loudly over the din in the warehouse, calling him Phantom just like his friends did. The only one who called him Easton was me. I wondered if that was a bad thing, but he never seemed to mind.

Ignoring the chaos, he jumped over the ropes that kept the crowd from the makeshift ring.

It wasn’t a real one. I was pretty sure fighting like this was illegal, but I didn’t really care.

Every inch of me wanted to be in Easton’s arms, and as he prowled through the crowd straight for me, I vibrated with the need to run to him.

“What the fuck happened?” he demanded.

I didn’t answer outside of throwing myself at him. I didn’t care if he was sweaty and gross. So was I. And I needed him.

His arms settled around my shoulders, and he didn’t push me away. I knew he wasn’t a fan of people’s emotions, but he kept me cuddled against him while he demanded the story from his friends.

“What. The Fuck. Happened?”

“He didn’t give us many details, but I’m assuming he was attacked,” Angel answered.

“He called me crying thirty minutes ago, and when I said I’d pick him up, he told me it wasn’t safe.

He wouldn’t let me go get him until I told him Coach was coming with me.

And he kept looking around when we went out to the car, like he was waiting for someone to jump out and get him.

” He sighed. “I know you didn't want him here, but he only wanted you.”

Easton tried to pull away to look at me, but I refused to be moved. They didn’t come near me when he was around. I was safe as long as I was with him.