Page 21 of The Ties We Break

My throat begins to tighten. “Thank you.” Nobody has ever said that to me before, and for someone who has always believed in me to say it, I feel fucking fantastic.

I’m pulled out of my moment by Kian banging his fist against my window. “Am I keeping you from something?” asks Desmond.

I hold one finger up to Kian, indicating he needs to give me a minute to finish this phone call. My boss is doing me several favours and saying nice things about me, plus I want to remain in his good books. I know how quickly Desmond can flip, and I don’t want to do anything to agitate him.

“Sorry, Boss. It’s my night off tonight and I just pulled up at the venue. A friend of mine is fighting,” I reply, trying to sound as apologetic as possible.

“Is that Kian you're talking about?” I shouldn’t be surprised he knows all about the people in my life. I’m sure I will have mentioned Kian to him over the years, but because they have never met, I never expected him to remember.

“Yes, it is.”

“He still working for that twatwaffle, Paddy O’Keenan?” Okay, so he more than just remembers him; he knowsa lotabout Kian. I guess this is a conversation for another day when I have much more time to teach Des about respecting people’s privacy.

“He does, yes. Anyway, I have to go or I will be late. Sorry, Boss.”

“No worries, but do me a quick favour. Talk to Kian, ask if he will turn against Paddy, will you? From what I’ve heard, they’re scrambling over who will run London next. That giant piss stain, Vernon, only managed to produce a girl, so she will need to marry someone who will become the leader. Well, they will likely be the face of the Family but will have a team behind them. Rumour has it that Paddy's training your boy, Kian, to be part of the inner circle. When the play for London goes down, it would be very fucking helpful to have a mole inside,” explains Des, and I can’t help but cringe the more he speaks. If Kian really is being groomed to lead, he either doesn’t realise it or he hasn’t told me. Even if he is, he’s loyal to Patrick O’Keenan the way I’m loyal to Desmond. I’m very aware I’m trying not to piss off my boss further, so my reply is the politest I can manage. “I will talk to him, but I can’t make any guarantees. Kian’s very loyal to Paddy, and I’m not sure I see that changing any time soon. He’s also not the type of person who would double-cross anyone. He’s one of the most trustworthy people I know. So, I can ask, but I make no promises. I will talk to you soon and let you know what he says.”

“Okay, you do that. Have a good night, kid. We will talk soon.” As he hangs up, I waste no time getting out of the car and following Kian into the giant barn that’s been fully kitted out for the fight.

From the outside, it looks like an old, dilapidated barn in much need of love, attention, and a fresh layer of paint, but as you look closer you see hints that there’s more to this place than meets the eye. Super-powered lighting sits amongst the cracked wooden panels, lighting up the majority of the surrounding fields, allowing people to park and move around safely. Then, nestled amongst the lights that are worth more than the barn, sits top of the range security cameras. You don’t need cameras this good to monitor a barn as shit as this one appears to be. Obviously, the inside isn’t going to match the dilapidated exterior.

As I get closer to the entrance and see inside the barn, I realise I’m right. There are lots of people milling around, so much so that it’s difficult to appreciate the place fully. But I can see the giant cage that takes up most of the room. Along the back wall is a bar, though it probably only stocks some beer and a few hard liquors for shots. Off to the side, I notice a set of stairs cordoned off by a red rope. It leads up to a balcony, and although there are definitely people up there, it’s a lot less cramped than it is down here around the ring.

The balcony is painted black to mix in with the general feel of the place and all you can see are the few people leaning over the balcony to see down. It’s not see-through, so you can’t see who else is on the balcony, affording the people who are deemed important enough a little bit of privacy.

I usually watch the fight from ringside, ready to give Kian the pep talks he needs in between rounds, but he also has his coach who talks strategy with him. So, as Kian leads me to the VIP area, and I catch sight of a certain beautiful brunette, I decide I may stay on the balcony for this fight. I have plans for Belle, and I really don’t know how she will react to them.

Waiting in the VIP section of the barn for Declan to show is slowly driving me crazy. My nerves are at an all-time high; my heart’s racing, my palms are a sweaty mess, and I can’t stop pacing. I’m so glad I chose a pair of Converse right now.

When Declan gave me the instructions I needed to follow for tonight, I made sure to ask what shoes I should wear, and when he said I could choose, it made my day. I don’t usually wear heels, but when I heard we were going to a fight at an unknown location, it didn’t fill me with joy. The idea of being on my feet constantly did not thrill me, and I had no idea how much walking would be involved. But, I decided to air on the side of caution and picked stable flat shoes.

From the minute we stepped out of the car and Sian got her stiletto heel stuck in the mud, I knew I’d made the right choice. By the time we made it to the barn door, Sian had nearly lost her shoes three times. Despite managing to rescue them, the bright red stilettos that perfectly matched her skin-tight red dress were now brown and black after becoming caked in crap.

I don’t even want to imagine how much sludge has seeped over her shoes and onto her feet. My Converse were covered in mud, but my socks mean no mud can attack my feet.

As we make it inside, Sian’s chuntering about needing to find a bathroom to wash her shoes. I politely remind her that we’re in a barn, and the chances of having a toilet are slim, with next to no chance of them having running water. Whilst trying not to laugh, I point out that we have to make the same journey back to the car. There’s no point saving the shoes. Given the dirty look she threw my way, you would think I just asked if I could take a shit in her shoes. Clearly, this is a sore subject, one I need to avoid at all costs.

When I first saw Sian dressed in her skin-tight dress, I worried I would look underdressed, until I reminded myself that we were going to watch an underground fight in a barn, and there’s a high probability Sian will be the one sticking out. How fucking wrong I was about that. There are a lot of people in the barn, far more than I expected, and they’re all dressed in an array of styles. Some are dressed ready for a night on the town; sexy dresses, sharp shirts, the works. Others, like me, look like they’re dressed casually, while others are simply in gym clothes like sweatpants. Either way, I quite like that nobody looks out of place.

Scanning the room, I try to tell myself I’m looking for somewhere to stand, because there sure as shit aren’t any seats in here, when really I’m looking forhim. I’ve had this nervous energy rippling through my body since we began texting earlier. At first, it annoyed me that he automatically assumed I’m submissive just because I’m shy and slightly withdrawn. Then, the more he explained, the more I realised he is, of course, right. I do have submissive tendencies. I just don’t know if I trust him enough yet to give him my total submission.

Naturally, I read up on what it means to be submissive. I think trusting him fully will take time, but when I do, apparently, the world of pleasure he can open up for me will be amazing, but we don’t have long enough for that. I need to keep remembering that we aren’t engaging in a Dom/sub relationship. He’s just a manager doing his job and ensuring someone inexperienced learns enough to stay safe during his auction. He is just doing his job. Even if I eventually want more, it can never happen. I need to auction off my virginity, so I can’t give it away for free, not when I’m desperate for the cash. Plus, I’m leaving in a few weeks. No point in forming attachments as it will only hurt more when I have to say goodbye.

My brain whizzes away, going through all the possibilities, when I feel an arm being thrown over my shoulder. A mop of blond hair appears between myself and Sian.

“Hey, gorgeous girls! Follow me. I’ve saved you one of the best seats in the house,” exclaims Kian, as he gently guides us with an arm around each of our shoulders towards the stairs along the right-hand wall we saw as we came in.

Passing a couple of bouncers and a very official-looking red rope, we’re admitted into the VIP area without question simply because we are with Kian. This place is much more relaxed and better for my anxiety than the room below, which is packed full of people. Up here, the space has been sectioned off into booths. You can be in your booth, having a drink, without being disturbed by anyone. In front of each booth is a balcony area where you can see the fight if you lean over, but you can’t be seen otherwise.

Kian walks us all the way to the opposite end of the balcony, to the farthest booth. With it being in the corner, it’s the biggest booth with neighbours on only one side. The people in the booth next to ours need to look in the opposite direction to see the ring, meaning nobody will ever be looking in our direction unless it is on purpose. I also notice the giant television on the wall above the main door we came in through. I’m guessing they will live stream the fight so everyone can see it, no matter where they’re situated.

Before we have a chance to sit down, a waitress wearing a skimpy outfit nearer to a bikini appears and takes our drinks order. Kian doesn’t order and instead says he needs to go but will be back soon. As he walks through the crowd, people stop him to wish him luck. Hell, some just pat him on the back. Yet, despite being a mini-celebrity, he keeps the same big dimple smile and thanks everyone. He doesn’t appear to let it get to his head. I don’t know Kian well, but from the small amount of time I’ve spent with him, he’s clearly a nice guy disguised as a bad boy.

Sipping on our drinks, Sian and I chat about how weird it is being at our very first underground fight when a shadow casts over our table. Looking up, I see Declan approaching. Before he arrives, Sian turns to me with a glint in her eyes. “I’m going to go and stand ringside with Kian. I’ve never watched an underground fight before. Everyone says you don’t get the best experience unless you’re in the thick of the action.”

Before I can say anything to Sian, Declan, who must have heard everything as he got close enough, snaps out a reply instead. “If you are planning to go down there to flirt with him in any way or to try getting him into bed, then you will just be a distraction and need to stay as far away as possible.”

I notice my best friend rolling her eyes before she replies quickly, “Look, there’s no denying Kian is next-level hot, but he’s not my type. Now, his opponent, Noah, he’s most definitely my type.”

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