Page 98 of Saviors

The breath whooshed from my lungs as I twisted the knob and pulled. The shift in the air wasn’t solely my doing. It was the pressure coming from another room. Actually, what I was staring at was a staircase that led down. But down where?

I felt my heart slamming on my ribs, yelling at me to close the door and run. But it was too late. I shuffled my feet forward until I started to descend. My heels made a click on each concrete step.

My chest constricted, making it hard to breathe as I headed further and further underground. Just as I was telling myself to turn back, I heard a shout. It was definitely female. My entire body jumped to life. I rushed down the stairs without thinking.

I should run the other way. Get help. But the idea that someone could be suffering like I had pushed me into action.

The stench of sweat filtered through my nose. The noise grew in volume, but I was too distraught to realize it was coming from more than one voice and it wasn’t only female.

My dry mouth parted when I finally reached the bottom. My feet carried me forward. Pulled by the force of curiosity. Too bad I forgot curiosity got you killed.

I was in an underground warehouse with stained concrete floors and crumbling brick walls. There were boxing rings illuminated by dim lights. The room was filled beyond capacity with people. The sweaty bodies bumped into me as I stood still in the chaos.

They were nothing like the crowds upstairs except, with one glance, I could see they had money. They had expensive clothes, but the shirtsleeves were rolled up on the men. Their ties were shoved into coat pockets.

And the women wore designer dresses. Only these were the ones made to reveal more than they covered up. There was none of the tease that Eros had. None of the seduction.

And if that wasn’t enough, I saw the exchange of money. People had it clutched in their fists. Women crammed it down their tops.

Instead of expressions of pleasure, their features were contorted in rage as they shouted. I watched one man as his face danced with delight. I heard a grunt before his cheeks were splattered with red.

Whatever this was fed a different kind of kink. It was a different hunger. Greed.

My eyes flew to where the blood had come from. My stomach bottomed out as I saw Maverick standing in the middle of a boxing ring. His red coated hands hung at his sides as he circled the man on the ground.

He was shirtless, which wasn’t unusual. Normally, a warmth would spread through me when I looked at his naked muscled body, but all I felt was nausea. His abs rippled as he lifted his foot, then slammed it down onto the man’s stomach.

I winced. The air rushed from my lungs as if it was happening to me. It was like the first day I’d spent in their house when I’d seen him and Charlie practicing. Now, I knew why. But this wasn’t practice.

The man on the ground was covered in blood. As he rolled to his hands and knees, I saw one of his fingers was bent at an unnatural angle. He smeared more of the viscous liquid along his skin as he swept his hair from his face.

My head spun. The world shifted hard as I recognized him. Felipe. The young cook from the restaurant Connor had taken me to. The guy who had a little sister he was raising on his own.

A gasp caught in my throat as Maverick punched him again. Felipe swayed before his body hit the mat with a dull thud. The crowd erupted around me. Shouts and whistles. I was jostled as they all shifted closer to the ring.

What was this?

Tears burned my nose as I looked at Maverick’s unconscious victim. No. There was no way that my Maverick did this. The sweet man who’d saved me.

My mouth dipped at the corners as I shook my head. My gaze slid up, colliding with his. The smoky gray had hardened to stone. These eyes were nothing like the ones I knew.

The ones I thought I knew.

Fear clutched my gut as I turned. A man cursed as I shoved past him. Another tried to grab my arm, but I pulled myself free. Terror propelled me forward. Everything I believed seemed to be crashing at my feet. I elbowed my way through the crowd, ignoring curses and shouts. I didn’t stop until I reached the door again.

“Violet!” I heard my name over the din of noise, but I refused to look back.

I needed to get away. Needed to process what I’d just seen. My heels stumbled on the stairs. The concrete scraped along my palms as I threw an arm out to steady myself. I felt the stickiness of blood, but I didn’t pause to examine it.

By the time I reached the bathroom, my chest was heaving. My lungs screamed for oxygen, but I couldn’t calm myself down enough to breathe. Everything I believed was a lie.

The men I knew were good guys. They’d saved me. Took care of me.

An image of Maverick smashing Felipe’s face flashed into my mind. Blood splattered in the air, covering his skin. My jaw clenched. I squeezed my eyes closed, wishing it away.

How could I reconcile what I knew with what I saw?

“Violet.” I whipped around as Maverick stepped into the room behind me. He shut the closet, sealing off the place I was never supposed to see.

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