The Broken Lake (The Pace Series, Book 2) Read online

  We finally reached a metal door that read “No Trespassing.”

  Danny knocked on the door three times before it opened outward, toward us, tempting me to cover my ears as the weight of it scraped the asphalt. A rather large, bald, sweaty guy with tiny, birdlike eyes stood before us. His tight black tank top pressed against his man boobs and beer belly. And even though it was still very dark, I could see that tattoos completely covered his arms and neck.

  “What?” he hissed with a deep, scratchy voice.

  Dawn and I exchanged shocked glances and then she weaved her arm through Jackson’s for protection.

  Danny, seeming a little out of his element, but nevertheless prepared to negotiate his entrance, mumbled the words, “The red sun rises.”

  The guy looked at Danny and then at the rest of us. “There are too many with you.”

  Danny cleared his throat. “We were all invited.”

  “By who?” The man spat back. “Four max. That’s the rule.”

  Counting Danny, Jared, Jackson, Dawn, and me, it was clear we were one person over the limit. I stepped up, about to volunteer to leave when Danny pointed to me.

  “Yeah, she was a last-minute addition. Chase personally invited her.”

  Baldy raised his dark brows and gave each of us an intimidating look-over. Then he tilted his head toward the inside. “Hurry up.”

  The invitation felt more like a threat and caused me to jump a little. Temptation to leave overcame me, so I glanced down the dark alley and saw a group of men filing in past the Dumpster. Walking toward them alone was not an option for me, so I decided to cling to Dawn’s other arm instead.

  Once we were inside, a narrow hall led us down steep stairs and then to another metal door below. Hard-rock music was pounding on the other side. Danny pulled it open to a stench of sweat mixed with cigarette smoke. Instantaneously, I held my breath as I tried to figure out which was worse, the smell or the noise. After about thirty seconds, I decided it was the smell.

  A few turns later we entered a large basement area with about twenty guys standing around. They were much more fit than the bouncer but had just as many tattoos. There was no ring, no ropes, and certainly no one in a tux announcing the impending rounds.

  “Um, this is not what—”

  Dawn cut me off. “Yeah, I know. Just stay close.”

  “Danny, what is this place?” I demanded.

  “It’s a fight club.”

  “A what?”

  Before he could answer me, a stocky, shirtless guy about our age, with a dark buzz cut, slid past us. Danny’s attention was fixed on him with an envious smile. I watched as the guy, wearing dog tags and camouflage pants, walked toward the center of the room. His torso was shaped like a perfect V and his stagger was confident. He looked in charge, but something about him looked weathered.

  The crowd parted like the sea for Moses as he made his way through. At the center, he turned, and in a shocking, military boot-camp style chant shouted, “Are you rrrrreaaaddddy?” I thought he was about to drop and start doing pushups.

  Instead, my senses were overpowered as the entire room of men shouted back, “Yes. We. Are!”

  Suddenly, it was a chant, back and forth, with each round getting louder and louder until the leader was hopping up and down. Just when I didn’t think it could get any louder, he stopped and crouched low to the ground.

  His voice grew softer, and he said, “Let the fighting begin.”

  A movement to the right caught my attention, and a man stepped forward. He, too, was shirtless. Though taller, he was ripped and defined like the leader. Pale and already sweating, he had a fire in his eyes. Danny and Jared were nodding as if in respect for the guy. No doubt he was a familiar face there.

  I knew nothing about fight clubs, but I suspected he’d been around awhile. He was probably thirty and had multiple scars on his face, including a nasty raised one going across both shoulder blades. He spit, then showed his teeth, raised his arms, and completed a three hundred sixty-degree turn.

  As he stepped aside, a figure moved in from the left side of the room. Everyone’s gaze diverted to a much smaller guy with a blond buzz cut and flannel shirt.

  “There he is,” Dawn whispered.

  Once my brain finally caught up to my eyes, I realized it was Chase with a new haircut. Drastic, bold, vicious. I almost didn’t recognize him. He’d been annoying before, but had never looked so intimidating.

  Once he stepped to the center and turned our way, I noticed his unbuttoned shirt revealed a tattoo traveling from the center of his chest, all the way to the line where boxers were peeking out from his jeans. He was equally ripped, like the other guys, but more lean.

  His introduction was less of a production, only releasing a small smile before turning toward his opponent. Once they were chest to chest, it was clear that Chase was just a kid. He couldn’t have been older than twenty and he came up to the guy’s collar bone.

  I thought it might be nice just to see Chase get punched good one time, but this was not cool, not fair, and nothing I wanted to see. The leader had other plans. He clapped his hands together, and in an instant, the other guy was all over Chase like white on rice.

  Within two seconds, Chase was in a headlock and getting punched in the face by the man’s bare fists. Then he rammed Chase’s head into a metal support pole and kneed him in the abdomen. I closed my eyes until I heard an unsettling cackle. I opened them to try to find the moron who thought this was funny, and to my shock, the odd laugh was coming from Chase.

  The man kept punching him, over and over, and Chase was laughing the whole time. Blood began dripping from his mouth and then, out of nowhere, he spun out of the guy’s hold and rammed the guy’s head into the same pole that had been used on him. For a minute, I felt relieved, and then I saw Chase twist the guy’s arm behind his back. In a swift motion, he lifted the man off the ground and slammed him onto that defenseless side. Everyone in the room saw and heard his shoulder pop out of its socket.

  I expected the leader to jump between them. Instead, a smirk appeared on his face as he looked entertained. This was not entertainment. This was stupid and cruel. Chase, meanwhile, swelled like a beast, puffed out his chest for the audience, and then rammed his foot into the guy’s side.

  Unable to defend himself, the guy tried to stand, but Chase pounced on his back like a monkey, grabbing his hair in a violent grip. With no mercy, he began banging the guy’s face into the concrete.

  I looked away for what seemed like forever, and when I turned back to see if it was over, Chase was still ramming his face into the floor. The guy’s eyes were swelled shut to the point that you couldn’t tell if he had passed out or not. At that point, the expressions on the faces of the crowd began to change from being impressed to somewhat concerned.

  It took three guys to pull Chase off his wounded victim. I turned my head as soon as I saw the man’s bloodied face and mouth, both seeping dark, syrupy, thick blood.

  “Oh, my God.” Dawn said.

  I covered my eyes. “He’s missing teeth. Oh, my gosh.” I felt sick. “I can’t stay here,” I said, starting to push my way through the crowd.

  “Me either,” she replied, just as grossed out. “Are you guys coming?” she asked, turning back toward Danny, Jared, and Jackson, who appeared more surprised than anything.

  “No, we’re gonna wait to see Chase. We’ll be out in a minute.”

  We wasted no time shoving our way through the conversing crowd. Once out in the hall, Dawn said she needed to go to the bathroom. The hall reminded me a little bit of the one where Andy held me. I cringed as visuals of a bathroom with tea-colored toilet water flashed through my brain.

  I convinced her to go alone while I waited right there. I stepped back with my shoulders against the wall. The hall started to get crowded with drunken spectators filing in and out. I lowered my head, trying not to make eye contact. I couldn’t believe anyone would come to participate in or watch something like that
.

  After a few minutes, I started mentally cursing Dawn for taking so long when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

  “Wes!”

  “Hey, you.” His voice could’ve melted butter.

  I pressed my ear to the phone, trying to hear better. “Are you back?”

  “Yes. I just landed. What’s all the noise?”

  “Oh, my gosh. It’s a fight.”

  He didn’t sound concerned, and I suppose he wouldn’t be. He was probably envisioning me at a regular arena, and surely there would be noise.

  “Is it almost over?”

  “Uh, yeah.” The uncertainty in my voice was enough to raise a flag.

  Concerned now, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just that I’m ready to leave and Dawn went to the bathroom, and I’m waiting for everyone.”

  “Where’s Danny? Where are you?”

  I scrunched up my face. “I don’t know. Some crazy place.”

  He was getting agitated now. “Where exactly?”

  I didn’t even know where to begin to describe it. “I don’t know. Some club.” I didn’t want to have to explain the situation in a shout over the noise around me so I was glad when I heard my name.

  Thank goodness. “Dawn! She’s back. Okay, we’re about to leave.” I hoped the newfound tone in my voice would calm the storm I’d started within him.

  “I don’t like not being there, Sophie.”

  “I know. Me either.” I spoke softly and truthfully. At that point, Dawn was pulling me toward the room again. We weren’t done with the conversation, but I knew we didn’t have much time before it got louder. I squeezed in the most important issue at hand. “You’re coming over tonight, right?”

  He answered assuredly, “I’m on my way.”

  Dawn pulled harder on my arm. “Would you come on already? We have to find the guys. Hi, Wes,” she shouted into the phone. “I know it’s you. She’s been thinking about you all night, but she’s gotta go!”

  “I’m sorry, Wes. Ignore her. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Not soon enough,” was all I heard, and felt, before he hung up.

  Chapter 10

  ON EDGE

  On the way home, Dawn tried to get me to take her to Jackson’s, but I refused. I was obviously annoyed. After reminding them of her probationary status, they both slumped back in their seats.

  “Geez, Sophie. You sound like my mom.”

  I hoped I didn’t annoy my mom that much and realized that I was being too harsh with my friends. After all, they weren’t the ones beating people’s brains out.

  “Sorry.” I said, sounding sincere, but still firm. “But you’re not getting into trouble on my watch.”

  My attention was divided by thoughts of the fight and trying to maneuver my way through side streets, looking for a way out. Dawn was, of course, unconcerned with our safety. I could’ve been driving her down a rat-infested, dead-end alley, and she would have still been focusing on Jackson.

  Once I made it back to the highway, I let the agitation from what I’d witnessed pour out.

  “I can’t believe what we just saw. I mean, it was disgusting. Don’t you think that was the most horrible thing? How can people even watch that stuff?”

  Dawn spoke up quickly. “I don’t know. It was pretty gross. I agree.”

  I continued my rant. “I mean who does that?”

  It was quiet for a minute, but I needed some clarification. “Jackson? Is that, like, something you guys do all the time?”

  Sounding much less appalled than I was, he answered, “Nah. We’ve been a few times. The first time we went, Chase got beat down. Then T took him under his wing and he’s been vicious ever since.”

  “Who’s T?”

  “Oh, he’s the leader.”

  My hands squeezed the steering wheel as thoughts of being dragged to that falsely described boxing match resurfaced. “Well, that’ll be my last time. I’ll probably have nightmares just thinking about it.”

  Dawn leaned forward. “No, you won’t. Wes will be with you.” She laughed deviously.

  I rolled my eyes, but she was right, which did spark a small smile from me.

  I got home around 11:30, left my terrace door unlocked, and took a shower. I felt ten notches better just getting the sweaty basement smell off of me. Eleven notches once I came back to my room and saw Wes.

  I shut my door, locked it, went straight over to him and climbed onto his lap. I kissed him a hundred times all over his lips and face. He broke away only to press himself against my neck. In a secure hold, I held onto him for a long-overdue reunion.

  “I missed you so much,” I whispered.

  He squeezed me just a little bit tighter and whispered back, “I’m not leaving you again.”

  Selfishness kicked in as I agreed that no matter what else came up, we would not be separated again, even if that meant I had to wear a lab coat and a pocket protector to the next conference. It just wasn’t worth it.

  Everything else seemed trivial compared to the time I had with Wes, especially when compared to egotistical guys trying to bloody someone else up just for kicks. I was so glad Wes was different. He was so full of substance, maturity, and purpose.

  “You have no idea how much I missed you,” I told him again.

  “I think I’m getting a pretty good idea.”

  I yawned and that prompted him to carry me to my pillow, which was just for looks. My real pillow for the night was the inside of his bicep. I curled up to my linen of preference—his T-shirt, which smelled extra fresh and clean.

  “You took a shower?”

  Surprised by my accusing tone, he replied, “Yeah. I’ve been on the go all day. I wanted to freshen up.”

  “Please. You don’t sweat. You don’t get unfresh.”

  “I still need a shower. I deserve one too.”

  “Yes, but that meant it took you longer to get here.” Every part of me was pressed against him now. Even my toes. I felt a gentle vibration in his chest as he held in a laugh.

  “Aw,” he said, “you really did miss me.” He kissed my forehead. “You mean you didn’t like the boxing?”

  “Ugh. You mean fighting.”

  He pulled back slowly so he could see my face in the darkness. He wanted clarification.

  “Yeah, it was fighting. Like back alley, underground, illegal, bloody, sweaty—”

  He popped upright. “You went to a fight club? Danny took you to a fight club? Why would he do that?”

  Now I had no choice but to spill the beans. Actually, I was looking forward to it. I don’t think I could fully let go of the bad experience without sharing it with someone.

  “Well, Chase was fighting. Only Dawn said it was a boxing match, and she begged me to go because she didn’t want to be the only girl, and she didn’t want Jackson to think Danny was babysitting her, plus she said Chase might get beat up and—”

  He was laughing now. “Okay, okay. I get it. So were you able to see Chase get punched in the face?”

  I exhaled the bottled up regret but rolled my eyes.

  “What?” he asked.

  “That’s the thing, it was weird. He got punched a lot, but he wasn’t fazed at all.”

  “Hmm. Tough guy, huh?”

  “Yeah, but it was almost like he was on something.” As soon as I said it, I remembered back to the party. His arms had needle marks and his eyes had looked like he was high for sure. “Now that I think about it, I remember needle marks on him at that party.”

  “Wait a minute. What party?”

  I’d forgotten to mention to Wes that I’d seen Chase before, so I filled him in on my first encounter. Wes didn’t comment, but I could tell he was thinking.

  “Go on,” he said, taking note of everything I said.

  “So I noticed both those things then, which only heightened the fact that I was not interested in him. And now that I think about it, his arms were covered during the fight.”

  “That do
esn’t mean anything.”

  I shook my head. “Yeah, but you should’ve seen and heard him. He was insane. He actually laughed at the pain. Then he beat up that guy relentlessly until some guys pulled him off.” I stopped. I felt myself getting all worked up, and I didn’t like it. “I’m just never going to one of those again.”

  Wes started rubbing my arm with his palm, as if warming me up, but it was calming me down. “I wish I could’ve seen your face,” he said.

  “Oh I’ll show you what it looked like.”

  I raised my face to demonstrate what I was sure it had looked like. It was a cross between how I imagined a person would look when a complete stranger puked on their shoes (disgust) and when someone realized they ran over someone’s dog (horror). All of those emotions bottled up into one expression. That’s what I showed him in the darkness.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  He pulled me close, still chuckling at my horrible evening.

  The next morning I woke up to my mother on the phone in the kitchen. By the time I fixed myself a bowl of cereal, I figured out she was revisiting the idea of an alarm system. Apparently, Tom had knowledge of different types and was recommending a company to her.

  As soon as she hung up, I jumped right on it. “Mom, we don’t need an alarm.”

  “Yes, we do,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  Did I miss something? I knew she had been throwing the idea around, but now she seemed set on it. “Did something happen that I don’t know about?”

  As if I’d opened the flood gates, she shifted in her chair, looking at me head-on. “Well, I have a strange feeling I can’t shake.” That was nothing new. I kept eating. “I think I hear things at night.”

  “Like what kind of things?”

  “Like noises on the terrace.”

  I almost coughed up my cereal. My mom’s room was on the main level, right under mine. The only noise on the terrace would be Wes coming to the second-level deck to my room. But he was too quiet for her to hear anything. Plus, if there had been any noise, other than him, he would’ve surely heard it from my room.