Gentleman Sinner

My blank face stares at the couple, my mind trying to process what’s been said. Murder. Not again. Oh my God. ‘Judy!’ I yell, pulling her from Andy’s hold, forcing her to face me. There are tears streaming down her perfectly made-up face.

‘He . . . he . . .’ she snivels, and I search her eyes, frantic for more than that.

I shake her, my desperation getting the better of me. ‘What, Judy? Tell me, please.’

Checking around us, she moves in close, her voice dropping. ‘His father. He used to punch Theo when he wasn’t looking, said it would build the resilience and awareness. Said it would toughen him up.’ Her words fade, and she looks across to the cage, flinching. ‘It went on for years.’ My fear heightens. ‘Until Theo killed him.’

I jump back like I’ve been electrocuted. ‘No.’ Ice spreads like wildfire through my veins, and I whirl around, just as Trystan launches himself at Theo’s back.

Cheers explode.

Carnage breaks out.

And Theo turns into the killing machine I know now he really is.

His whole body engages, his muscles, his mind, his fists, and he swings around, cracking Trystan on the jaw with a rock-solid punch, sending him sailing through the air with a bloodcurdling yell. I see a broken jaw before I see a few teeth spray into the air. Trystan lands on his back with a thud, the crowd cheering like a bunch of bloodthirsty sickos. It’s ugly. Yet Theo’s animalistic movements are almost artistic in their unfolding. There’s nothing uncontrolled about them. Nothing unplanned or wild. I can see the look of intent on his face. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and that is far more frightening than the frenzied actions of the uncontrolled man that I’ve witnessed before. He has a plan. From the moment I lost my composure in that tattoo studio and refused to feed his need for an explanation, he was on a mission. I should have known he’d get to the bottom of it.

And now he’s going to kill it.

My bottom lip begins to tremble, the outcome of this mess set in stone, history wrote before it’s written. There’s nothing anyone can do to save Trystan. He’s trapped in that cage with a monster who won’t stop until he’s finished. I fear Theo will never be finished. He killed his own father. Turned on him. Punished him for hurting him. Trystan really is a dead man.

I turn at the sound of a quiet sob, Judy’s sob, and find Andy looking full of dread as he tries to comfort his wife. Judy’s eyes turn to mine, filled with tears. ‘There was only so long he would take his father’s torment before he snapped,’ she says, sniffling over her words. ‘I don’t blame my boy. His dad got what was coming to him. He was a cruel, cruel man.’

The irony of it all doesn’t escape me, even in the midst of destruction. Theo’s father longed for his son to be his formidable successor. Went to extreme lengths to ensure it happened. And became a victim of the brutality he forced into Theo. The reason for Theo’s handicap is shining like a bright diamond before me, cut and freshly polished. Theo never wanted to be this way. It’s his father’s doing, and a part of me – an unreasonable part, because it has to be unreasonable – can’t help but feel like his father got what he deserved.

Looking blankly across to the ring, I watch as holy, painful hell is rained all over Trystan. Punishing blows to the face, hard smashes of his body to the floor, and endless kicks to his stomach. And the whole time, there’s a disturbing half smile on Theo’s face. He’s avoided being locked up before now, gotten away with murder. This will end his freedom. All these people watching. He’ll be slammed into jail for life. And I will lose him.

When Trystan starts coughing up blood, my legs find life, and I run to the edge of the cage, gripping the metal until my knuckles are white, screaming for Theo to stop. He doesn’t need to kill him. He doesn’t need to be locked up for murder. He’s done enough. ‘Theo!’ I scream his name, over and over, ignoring the dryness of my throat.

He stills, looming over Trystan’s battered body with his fist drawn back, ready to drop another damaging blow. Not that Trystan would feel it now. He’s unconscious, limp and lifeless on the floor. Theo turns around, his eyes wild, and I tighten my grip around the bars, bringing my face as close as I can.

‘Stop,’ I beg quietly, though he would never be able to hear above the roaring crowd, so I rely on the pleading in my eyes. ‘Please.’

He straightens, looking around at the masses of people in his club, delirious with excitement. Because Theo is in the cage. He’s the ultimate fighter. Undefeated. An animal. Deadly. His big chest swells, sweat pouring from him. And after a few nervous moments, he drops his eyes back down to Trystan, his lip curling. Then he turns and stalks out of the cage, slamming the metal door behind him. A path clears, people jumping out of his way before running to the foot of the enclosure to see just how much damage Theo’s done. I can see from here. Trystan is lying motionless in a pool of blood, not even the sound of the crowd stirring him. But he’s breathing. I push away from the bars and whirl around, searching for Theo. I catch sight of him disappearing through the door towards the office and make urgent tracks, going after him.