He was enticing in every way. The way his body moved swiftly around the ring as I watched him from behind the bar. He was the best. And the best never loses.
When Blake Anderson gets a job as a bartender at the local fight club, Chargers, she meets...
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I ran into the venue with only the hope that Antonio was still alive. I had left Blake a crying, upset, and worried mess in the alleyway of a now crime scene. I could only hold onto the hope that she wouldn't try and follow me and would do exactly what I say.
She would though. She's my good girl.
I sprint through the streets and doors as quickly as I could, trying to find the source of the problem. The shooter.
Running down every hallway I could find jangling the small door knob to quickly find they were all locked. For fucks sake, why are there so many rooms in this place? He couldn't have been far, unless he was running from something or someone...the shooter.
The thought of Antonio lying dead, alone, and drained of life in some random room makes my blood run cold. The horrid thought instantly sends me sprinting towards the back of the building.
The only person that could ever die and I wouldn't be mad is my father.
My mind runs through all the times I've attended one of these stupid banquets trying to sneak a girl away to some place private like the bathroom and how long it took to fucking get to them.
Honestly, who puts bathrooms at the very back of a venue?
Seriously Harry, remembering your first world problems during hookups is what you are thinking about right now?
My chest becomes heavy as I pump my legs even faster as I run throughout the building. I cautiously look around every corner, making sure I don't run into the shooter or shooters if there are multiple of them.
I have my gun tucked into my waistband, thank fuck.
I brush off the grueling memories of me stumbling drunk off my ass to the bathrooms as I head towards the back. Come on. Come on. Why did you have to be wasted every damn time you went to the bathroom? I can't remember anything that gives me a clue on where to turn right or left.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Left.
What would drunk Harry do? He always knows how to find a secret hookup spot; it's like a superpower. Looking around I'm reminded of Blake waiting outside for me, my eyes meet the small black security camera as I speak directly at the device.
"Okay, don't make fun of me."
With that I cover my eyes and decide to spin around praying my inner drunk self can give me some guidance. What would drunk Harry do? What would drunk Harry do? With that I stumble towards a random direction that oddly feels right. I uncovered my eyes revealing I went right.
I'm desperate, okay? I need to find him and this is all my dumbass could come up with.
I don't even want to think about what the hell I just did so I shake off my embarrassment as I sprint down the narrow hall. I'm met with a big white door, the bathroom sign hanging above it.
