“Relax,” she said with kindness radiating from her eyes. “Try to enjoy it. You’ve all worked hard to put this together.” She squeezed my hand as we both stood and looked around us.

I hadn’t worked hard, but the others had, and this place looked amazing. Zak’s strobe lights lit up the area and the rush job I’d done to brighten up the walls and boarded-up windows glowed down on us, adding a nineties retro feel to the room. I’d sprayed phrases like ‘Knowledge is power’ and ‘Fuck the police’ in neon paint alongside old school boom box stereos, gold chains, yellow smiley faces and other iconic images from back then. Not that I’d ever experienced the nineties myself, but it was a cool era and I hoped I’d done it justice.

“This is amazing.” Effy gasped, looking around her. “I don’t know how you do it, but you nail it every time.”

I gave another shrug. My heart hadn’t been in this project. I’d faked every minute of my enthusiasm when the others were around. Funny that of all our events, this was the one people were freaking out over.

“Should we go over and say hi to Zak and Kian?” Effy pointed to where they both stood behind the decks, programming stuff and doing whatever the fuck it was they did up there.

“No. They’re busy. We can talk to them later,” I replied and took her hand, leading her through the area, past a few more bodies that had been let in early under the premise that they’d help test out the sounds and other shit.

Walking from the main hall into the anti-hall, where Brandon’s boxing ring was set up, I felt myself grow tense from the nervous energy building up inside. The area wasn’t as dark as the party zone, but it was dimly lit, and there was an aura of destruction and doom, a grim intensity about the place. It was perfect for Brandon. He loved creating that sense of danger for all his fights. But for me, tonight, it felt all too real.

There were a few spotlights set up on the walls around the side of the room, pointing right at the ring and providing the only light source in here. On every level, where the people could stand and watch the fight below, were flags, football banners and slogans like, ‘Beat ‘em to the punch,’ ‘Show your killer instinct,’ and ‘Time to throw in the towel.’ Brandon had really gone to town this time. It looked like a proper British boxing arena, Mathers’ style.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to stand in here and watch.” Effy grimaced and glanced up at the currently empty balconies that looked down on us. “Brandon’s fights scare me to death.”

“I don’t like watching him fight either. I will if I have to, but I prefer to wait until it’s over and slap him on the back for knocking them out.”

Brandon had been doing this for years and he’d never lost a single bout. It was his proudest achievement, being an undefeated boxer. His reputation in Sandland was legendary, and the feedback he’d gotten from announcing he was going to return to the ring tonight had created a massive buzz. The soldiers had their wish. Getting Brandon out of retirement was putting him, the party, and Brinton back on the map.

We walked through into the corridor that led to the rooms assigned to the fighters. Brandon was leaning up against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, talking to some dude who had more tattoos than he did. When he saw us coming, he didn’t bother to stop and introduce us, just walked over and ushered us into what must’ve been his room. His set-up always remained the same; bottles of water, a few old plastic chairs, and a table with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter on it. I think if Brandon had made it big, he’d still have kept to his shitty rider. No champagne and bowls of blue M&Ms for him. That just wasn’t his style. He was proud of the fact that he came from the streets.

“How you feeling?” I asked, biting my nails despite the fact I’d stopped doing that years ago. “Are you ready for tonight? Is there anything I can do?”

“You can stop acting nervous for a start,” he said, stalking around the room with a swagger he always saved for fight nights. “You know I’ve got this. Even Harper’s more chilled out than you are tonight.”

“Is she here?” I asked, peering over his shoulder, expecting to see her.

“Of course not. She’s on bed rest. I told you that. I’m under strict orders to ring her straight after though. And I’ll bet she has Em on the line later, giving running commentary during the fight.” He picked up the packet of cigarettes and took one out.

“Should you be doing that?” Smoking wasn’t the best pre-match routine, but I did feel guilty calling him out on it, seeing as he was only fighting because of me.

“I’ve just seen Joe Hazel and the dude looks like he’s snorted so much coke he can’t even see straight. It’s pure fucking suicide, mate. On his part, that is. I don’t think one ciggie is gonna make much difference. His fate is sealed.”

Brandon lit his cigarette just as my phone started to vibrate with a new message.

I pulled it out of my back pocket, and my stomach dropped when I saw it was from them.

The soldiers.

Every inch of my skin turned cold with goosebumps and I started to shake, hovering my finger over the screen to open it. I guess it was too much to hope they’d leave me be tonight. I was the mouse caught in their trap, and they were having way too much fun swatting me with their paws and teasing me as hope of my escape dwindled with every passing second.

“Is that Ryan? He mentioned he was running late. Something about Emily and a message from her half-sister. I didn’t pay much attention.” Brandon shrugged and sat down, taking another drag of his cigarette, totally oblivious to the shit-storm that was about to rain down on me.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Effy sat in one of the other plastic seats and I stayed standing where I was in the middle of the room and opened up the message.

Congratulations, Knowles.

You’ve reached the final stage of your game of consequences.

One more challenge and it’s all over. Complete this, and we’ll send you confirmation that dear old Uncle Tony is no more. Fail, and everyone will know your secret. Every dark, dirty detail. The choice is yours.

To complete your game

you have one more task to carry out.

Get Mathers to throw the fight.

Tags: Nikki J. Summers Rebels of Sandland Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net