Reagan's POV
I let the two men lead me away from the bar, thoroughly freaked out.
As I'm yanked away, I decide that making a scene or struggling will only result in me ending up with a bullet in my back...
We weave around the many people dancing and no one gives us a second glance
Well then, nice to know they care.
My arms begin to ache from the tight grip the two gorilla twins have on me and I say as much.
"You think you could let up on the grips?" I murmur under my breath.
Gulping at the glares I receive from them, I shut up.
Do you have a death wish Reagan?
We come to a stop in front of the two guards I had spotted earlier by the stairs and the two men holding onto me nod to the guards.The guards step aside, allowing us to pass. The two gorillas resort to pushing me in front of them, as they begin to lead me up the steep, narrow stairs.
Reaching the top in no time, I'm not given time to look around and am immediately dragged towards a hallway. We enter the hallway and soon the deafening music of the club fades to a slight beat.
Like a heartbeat.
Or maybe that's mine?
As we walk, I can't help but notice that the hall looks like one from an expensive hotel. Fancy red carpets, faintly glowing lamps fastened to the cream colored walls...but what catches my attention are the many pictures hanging next to the lamps.
Artfully framed and displayed, I can only stare at them as we pass.
Having taken art history my junior year, I recognize some as famous pieces.
Staring some more, I'm not entirely convinced they're fakes....
They look too real to be fakes and I can make out the faint brush strokes on the paintings.
Maybe I had fallen into the clutches of Michelangelo's evil twin?
Okay Reagan, you are NOT funny.
I grimace and glance forward again.
Abruptly, I realize that we've reached the end of the hall and my heart starts thumping once again.
Hands still locked firmly on my arms, I'm shoved towards another set of stairs, these ones leading down.
Down?
Frowning slightly, I guess that there must be an underground section to the club. I swallow hard as I realize what this means. There will only be one exit, and it doesn't look like I'll be reaching it soon.
Well there goes Plan A. Run like hell.
At least there's 25 more letters in the alphabet...I'll start panicking when I reach Plan Z.
I mentally face-palm myself, before letting out a quiet sigh.
The stairs going down lead to yet another hallway and I wince at the look of this one.
Narrow concrete walls close in and I suddenly feel claustrophobic.
We pass a few men standing stoically in front of sealed doors and I gulp as I see that these men are armed with heavy guns.
Shit.
Fear courses through me as I realize this is no game and this situation has just gotten even more serious.
My eyes dart from the men up to the dim overhead lights and I try to stop my nervous fidgeting.
My ears suddenly perk up as I hear a muffled roaring sound.
What the heck?
We come to a set of double doors and I see that they are forged from steel.
How comforting....
Stop! Sarcasm isn't going to get you out of this Reagan!
But if they see what a wonderful personality I have they have to let me go!
Pushing my inner voice to the corner of my mind, I focus on what's happening.
One of the men holding me, briefly lets go of my arm and pushes hard against the doors, his muscles bulging under the effort. Before I can act, my arm is seized once again. The doors swing open almost silently and my eyes widen at the sight inside.
There's a crowd of at least a few dozen men gathered in a circle around a raised platform.
But that's not what makes me gasp, it's the men standing on the platform.
Or more precisely fighting.
One of the men is on his knees and I can see his pain filled expression from here.
I gape as the other man turns around and recognition hits me.
Ace.
My eyes widen further as Ace punches the man he's fighting against and the man goes flying, his head hitting the platform.The crowd roars and my arms twitch on instinct, trying to cover my sensitive ears, but my arms are still held firmly in place.
Not allowing me time to gawk, the two men drag me towards a table that's been set up in the corner of the large room.
Craning my head back, I catch sight of money being exchanged in the crowd while Ace pumps his fists in the air in victory.
What the heck is this place?
Something illegal for sure...I muse.
I'm suddenly overwhelmed by the pungent stench of smoke and I cough, doubling over slightly.
As I'm dragged closer to the table, I see that there are four men sitting at what I can now tell is a poker table. Cards are held in their hands and they occasionally glance towards the fighting rink.
Three of the men are smoking and the fourth is taking shots of something that doesn't look legal.
Not that I would know...
They're talking animatedly, but I can't make out what they're saying over the renewed roaring of the crowd.
As they catch sight of me, the men cease talking immediately and throw their cards face down onto the table.
I notice that they're all wearing suits and are freshly shaven.
They look like simple business men and I would easily pass by them on the street, not giving them a second glance.
But up close, I can see tiny scars marring their faces and a rough look to their demeanor.
Not to mention the hostile looks they're directing my way.
"What's this?" One of the men asks, taking his cigarette out of his mouth, practically having to yell across the noise to be heard.
He has a neatly trimmed black beard and looks to be in his early thirties. All the men situated at the table seem to be around his age, if not younger.
The man grasping my left arm clears his throat as if nervous and hesitates to speak.
Wait, this brute of a guy nervous?
Who are these men?
The bearded man who originally spoke glares at the man holding my arm. "Well? Spit it out Randall!"
The man, Randall, flinches slightly. "She asked about Travon Cross, sir."
All the men's faces darken and I tremble slightly as the bearded man stands and comes to a stop in front of me.
He towers a good head and a half over me, and I feel incredibly small.
Well there goes my idea of bravery...
I avoid looking at the man and instead focus on one of the drab concrete walls.
A harsh hand grasps my chin and the man forces me to look at him.
I wince slightly as I gaze into his jet black eyes.
He stands close enough that I can see my pale face reflected in his pupils. The smell of smoke wafts off his clothing and breath, mixing with his cologne.
His large, rough hand slides from my chin to my throat and he squeezes slightly.
My throat closes up and I swallow on reflex.
"Now girl, you can see that I'm not kidding around, what do you know about Travon Cross!" His hand tightens as if to emphasize his point and I suck in a now precious breath.
Randall and the other gorilla hold onto me tighter as if convinced I would make a wild move.
"I-I don't know anything about him okay. I just heard someone mention him and wanted to know what all the fuss was about!" My voice is an octave higher than usual, but I pray he buys it.
Seconds tick by and I begin to get light headed from the lack of air.
My heart thuds in response, as suddenly the crowds roar is replaced by a roaring in my ears.
Black dots dance before my eyes and all of a sudden the man smiles.
Releasing my throat, one agonizingly slow finger at a time, he steps away. I refrain from reaching up and massaging my neck. Instead, I focus on taking gulps of air while trying not to pass out.
The man continues to beam and addresses the others.
"Looks like we won't have to kill her men!"
Uh huh kill me...wait what!
My eyes widen, but I wipe my face of any emotion before anyone can see my fear and panic.
The man continues, oblivious to my distress. "But allowing her to just leave may make us appear...soft."
They chuckle and goosebumps course down my arms.
Of course there was a catch, he had bought my lie too quickly.
The man strokes his beard looking thoughtful, as if he's simply contemplating what to have for lunch and not what to do with a live person.
In this case me.
Maybe this was a regular occurrence?
They definitely needed to work on their people skills...
The man finally nods his head and a childish glee takes over his face.
My heart stops at the terrifying sight.
"Tonight's entertainment has been somewhat plain, what say we add in some kick?" He turns to me, obviously pleased with himself. "You my dear are going to fight!"
I'm gonna what now?
If this so called fight is supposed to be anything like what I witnessed, I won't last a second!
My mouth gapes and I quickly close it.
The rest of the men and even the two holding onto me let out a cruel laugh, as though they're already imagining my demise.
My teeth grit.
Assholes.
If fighting is what it takes to get out of this mess, then they'll get what they wanted.
A fight.
The man who I peg as the boss suddenly yells over the noise.
"Silence!"
The crowd almost immediately quiets and shifts towards the speaker's voice. Towards me.
I shake slightly as I take in all the people now staring at me. Some glare with open hostility, while others leer, appearing amused.
Now silent, the man speaks to the crowd, his gruff voice booming.
"Now this girl here," He gestures to me. "Has poked into business that's not hers...and I have decided to be merciful and allow her a chance to leave unscathed..."
He pauses and I can tell the crowd is eagerly hanging on his every word.
"So I have determined that she will fight!"
At this the crowd erupts into roars and I stand trying not to cower. The crowd quiets as the man raises a hand preparing to speak once more.
"As this will be tonight's main entertainment I've decided to make a generous offer...the man quickest to bring the girl down will get the girl herself...and half a million dollars!"
My heart officially stops in my chest as his words sink in and the crowd breaks into a deafening roar.