Page 96 of Freestyle (Academy of Stardom 1)

Before me, an attractive woman greets us. She has long dark hair shaved off on one side, and left long and loose on the other. It tumbles over her right shoulder in a mess of waves. From behind her black, jewelled masquerade mask, she gives me a once over, noting my attire and immediately dismissing me. I know what she thinks. I’m arm candy, nothing more. That riles me up more than I’d care to admit, but my pride has to take a backseat. If this is what I need to do to keep Lena safe, then so be it.

“Good evening, Mr Bernard. It’s my pleasure to welcome you here tonight,” she says, holding her hand out to shake. Zayn takes it, nodding briefly.

This woman, Grim I’m assuming, isn’t wearing a revealing dress like me. She’s got tight leather pants on and a sheer red shirt showing off a black lace bra, paired with chunky black biker boots and a really fucking impressive rose tattoo that winds up the side of her neck. Next to her is a huge bear of a man who has his gaze fixed solely on Zayn as though he’s the biggest threat around here. He isn’t wearing a mask, and I get the distinct impression he doesn’t give a flying fuck who sees him. He’s here to protect Grim, that much is obvious.

“This is Beast. He’s my partner and will not hesitate to end anyone who he deems a threat to me or our club.”

“Understood,” Zayn responds.

“Good. Let’s get you seated,” she says, twisting on her feet and striding towards the huge warehouse, Beast keeping pace alongside her. When he reaches over and lays his hand on her lower back, his fingers tracing the mound of her arse, I realise that he’s more than just a business partner, because a woman like her isn’t going to allow just anyone to put their hands on her uninvited. She might be a foot smaller than him and slight against his large frame, but it’s clear who holds all the power and it isn’t the six foot seven, man-beast with the same name.

“The fight is due to start in ten minutes. We have your table ready. Your crew has already arrived,” Grim says.

“Good,” Zayn responds, his voice sounding off, weird, as we step into the warehouse and into a caged area that is made private by large black curtains encircling the space.

“Mr Bernard, Grim’s club has strict rules. No weapons. I need to search you,” Beast says, stepping towards Zayn who promptly holds his arms out to the side and spreads his legs. He’s patted down swiftly, and when Beast is satisfied Zayn’s not carrying a weapon, he steps back and nods at Grim before turning his attention to me and arching an eyebrow.

“Don’t even think about it,” Grim snarls, shooting me a warning look even though I’m just standing here and not encouraging any kind of interaction in the slightest.

“She could be hiding something,” Beast says, holding back a smirk that makes his lips twitch.

“Unless she’s got a weapon stuffed up her coochie, then she’s good,” Grim snaps, giving Beast a look that could slay the toughest of men.

It doesn’t seem to bother him though as he barks out a laugh and looks at Grim with the kind of love and affection that makes me feel sad and, weirdly, angry. I’m angry that someone like her, a criminal who’s clearly up to shady shit, has found love. It pisses me off.

“Stuffed up mycoochie?” I snap, unable to hide my indignation. I’ve not hadanythingstuffed up my coochie for three fucking years, let alone a fucking weapon. Actually, I’m fairly sure I’m a born again virgin, and my hymen has grown back for all the lack of use.

Grim shrugs, looking me up and down before turning her attention back to Zayn. “In my club there is no fighting between crews, period. Anyone starting a fight will be dealt with swiftly andfinally. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good, follow me.”

Unlocking the wire cage door, we all pass through the curtained off area and into the main building. The space is huge and set up like some fancy nightclub with soft lighting and chandeliers hanging from the vaulted ceiling. In the centre of the warehouse is a huge fighter’s cage with dark patches of dried blood splattered across the padded canvas.

Surrounding the ring in a semi-circle are tables filled with masked men and women. The tables are covered with red material and lit with flickering candles. Crystal decanters and cut-glass tumblers adorn every surface alongside bottles of Dom Perignon and fluted champagne glasses. The air reeks of a mixture of weed, cigar smoke, masculinity, and heady perfume, making it even more difficult to breathe in a mask that is all but suffocating. I remember being barely able to breathe in the damn thing before, now with my senses on high alert and my heart pumping wildly, it’s even harder.

The air is thick with tension as we follow Grim towards a table situated nearest to the cage. All of the tables are filled with men dressed similarly as Zayn, in expensive suits and facemasks of varying designs. Plenty of bling accompanies the tailoring as is custom with gangsters, there’s enough gold here tonight to fund a small country with all the Rolex watches, chains, diamond studded earrings, gold teeth and rings. Some of the women accompanying the gangsters wear similar outfits to mine: provocative, sexy, and barely covering their tits and arse. Though I do spot others who are more demurely dressed and who ooze power. I’m betting they’re not merely arm candy but gangsters in their own right.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter under my breath.

Zayn reaches for my hand, grasping it in his then drops it, acutely aware that all eyes are on us. No doubt the other crews are trying to figure out who we are and which crew we belong to. The masks give a level of anonymity, yes, but I doubt it would be very hard to work out which crew is which if someone really wanted to put their mind to it. There are way too many giveaways: tattooed covered hands and necks, accents, mannerisms, all of them dead giveaways. Grim is a brave woman to hold such a gathering when rival gangs could be sitting mere feet from each other. Then again, she seems to command a certain level of respect, going by the almost friendly nods of acknowledgement as she walks past each table. That is a feat in itself given the criminal scene is predominantly run by men. Whatever she did to gain their respect must’ve been pretty fucking epic. Despite her attitude towards me, I begrudgingly admire her for it. Either way, the atmosphere, though tense, isn’t half as volatile as it could be. Partly due to the fact that there are armed men high above circling the space on a grated walkway, and partly because people can pretend to be whoever they want behind a mask.

Speaking of which, Grim stops at a table where two other men are seated. They’re both wearing the same black mask as Zayn. I feel their gaze on me as Zayn pulls out a chair. I sit, immediately recognising the two men opposite. York’s piercing blue eyes and plump lips are a dead giveaway as are Xeno’s green orbs that flash with derision at my outfit. They stare openly at me and my cheeks flame beneath my mask at their blatant perusal.

“The fight will start shortly. Your bets have already been noted. If you need anything, Mr Bernard, be sure to let me know,” she says directly to Zayn.

“I will,” Zayn retorts gruffly.

Grim nods her head at Xeno and York, completely ignoring me. “Gentleman.”

I watch her leave, wondering why she’s treating Zayn like he’s the leader of the Skins. It makes no sense. Xeno taps the table, then leans forward suddenly and pours Zayn a double shot of the golden liquid. His hands are covered with black, leather gloves just like York. Now, I understand why. Tattoos on hands are dead giveaways to the identity of a person. They’re keeping their identities closely guarded.

“Where’s Dax? Jeb?” I mutter, my heart thundering and my head full of questions.

What the fuck is going on? Why am I at Grim’s Fight Club with the Breakers and not Jeb? Where the hell is he? My internal question is answered a few moments later when another man dressed in a suit, wearing leather gloves and the same black head mask as the rest of the crew, sits down next to me at the table.

“Good evening, Penelope. You look beautiful. I see my money was well spent.”

---