Yes, Sirs (Book 1 of Desire's Den)

Chapter 144 - Gideon

The warehouse I was currently in stank of sweat, blood, piss, and beer. People surrounded me on all sides, screaming and cheering for the bloodbath they knew would soon come. They were blood-thirsty beasts, getting high on the violence while staying relatively safe outside of the ring.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I bounced on the balls of my feet, waiting for the fucker to join me.

I was already drenched in sweat, and my muscles were tense from my earlier match. My left side pulsed now and again from the solid hit I'd taken, but the adrenaline was like my own body's painkiller. Needless to say, I gave that guy back tenfold what he'd given me. My opponent looked like a pulp by the time he tapped out. He had to be carried out of the ring, groaning the entire time.

Tony hadn't disappointed me when I called a few hours ago, demanding to get in on the action at tonight's event. Yesterday went to fucking hell, and today hadn't gone any better. Seconds after Callan hung up on me after informing me that Emma knew everything, I'd contacted Tony.

The only time I didn't think was when I was fighting, and I needed that now because Emma had my mind spiraling, and I couldn't allow that to happen. I needed my head clear, so we could figure out a way to get her to talk to us.

Emma was hurt, and fuck if I didn't get that. Giving someone your trust was one of the hardest things to do because it left you vulnerable with no defenses. If you gave someone your trust, you wouldn't expect to be hurt by them, which only made it worse if they did.

Aside from her beauty, what had truly drawn me towards her, was her naivety. She'd given us her trust openheartedly, and easily. That had made me feel something for once—something other than anger. For a second there, she made me feel worthy, not of her, of course, because I didn't think I ever would be, but just...worthy of more. And then, we made her pay for the trust she'd so freely given.

I clenched my jaw at the thought of how she must be feeling, knowing the lengths we'd gone to, the lies, and the manipulation we'd done to get her. The lies turned into secrets, and we all knew secrets were bound to come out at one point in time—we were just dumb enough to think it wouldn't.

Our foundation had been built on nothing but sand, and it was my friends' and mine's fault. I only hoped she'd give us a chance to rebuild it into something stronger.

The screaming of the people amplified as Randy, or known to the people as Riptide, walked up to the ring. I hadn't even registered him being announced—I got lost in thoughts too quickly unless I had something to distract myself with.

My eyes narrowed as I took in Randy. He was a burly man about my height, a couple of years my senior. His nose was crooked from being broken one too many times, and I knew under the mouthguard, he was missing a couple of teeth.

Randy sized me up and down before giving me his trademark smile, the one that was meant to intimidate his opponent. I simply gave him a bored look in return, though I could feel the excitement coursing through me. This would be fun.

Prodding at the wrapping around my hands, I made sure it was firmly in place.

"I heard you were going to be here today, Executioner, and I couldn't pass up the chance to return the favor from last year," he said, his eyes glinted with the same excitement I was feeling. Fighting was a high all of us who participated in the ring were addicted to. In the past, this was the one thing that actually made me feel something other than anger.

"Then you'll have to try harder than last time, Riptide," I whispered gruffly, trying to ignore the nickname these people had given me. The nickname, executioner, or ex for short, started the day I won my first match. The guy I'd been fighting against looked like he'd been executed with how much he was bleeding—thus, it became my name in the ring. They had no idea how appropriate it actually was.