"I thought you said we were going somewhere safe," I frown, taking in the building before me.

"You're safer here than in the apartment," Tyler says, dropping his cigarette onto the floor. He steps on it, putting it out with his feet. He heads towards the metal garage door, and I make sure to stay close to him.

This place does not feel safe at all. We're in an industrial area outside of town. There's a flickering street light over our head, and an eery darkness in the air. This whole street seems abandoned. There's graffiti all over the place, except for on the roll-up door before us.

There's a normal, wooden door beside it, but Tyler doesn't touch it. Instead, he bangs on the metal door, making it clang loudly. Seconds later, it begins to rise.

Tyler ducks beneath it, but I stick my head under it first, just to check that it actually is safe.

The inside of the building looks a lot better than the outside. It's a gym, with multiple boxing rings, and other kinds of equipment. It actually looks kind of nice. It's well lit, and the walls are painted white. There are only three other guys here, one of which, is Owen.

I don't recognise the other two. One is old, bald, and chubby, while the other is younger, but still older than me. He's got dreadlocks tied up in a ponytail, and beads of sweat are dripping down his forehead. He wipes them away, and glances at me, but before either of us says anything, we're interrupted by the sound of Tylers yelling.

"You fucking dick!" He shoves the bald man. "I'm on parole, you fucking idiot! You want me to go to jail?!"

"You're going there anyway! I've seen the shit you do! I know how much of a good-for-nothing lowlife you are!" The man responds.

"Look who's talking!" Tyler scoffs. "You can't even pay your fucking bills!"

"And who's fault is that, huh?!"

"Your fucking own! Maybe if you took your fucking head out of your ass for two fucking seconds you'd realise what a waste of space you are!"

"Watch your fucking mouth! I'm still your father!"

"You're nothing but a fucking junky!"

"I fucking raised you!"

"Is that what you call it? Running around snorting coke and getting pissed?" Tyler snickers. "I raised my goddamn self!"

"And look how you turned out, huh? Just like your father!" He smirks.

Tyler lunges at him, but he doesn't make it. Owen interferes, pulling Tyler back by his waist. They struggle against each other, until eventually, the bald man holds his hands up in surrender and takes a few steps back. Tyler breathes heavily, with his fists balled at his sides. Owen whispers something in his ear, causing him to step back, too.

"Alright, alright," the guy with the dreads says, rubbing his hands together. His eyes flicker between Tyler and his father. "What's the situation?"

"Fuck if I know," the bald man shrugs.

Tyler snickers. "You're little buddies keep showing up at my house!"

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

I definitely know where Tyler gets his language from.

"You know damn well what's going on! You can't pay your fucking debts!"

"I don't know what he's-"

"Quit the bullshit, John," Owen scoffs. "We all know the kind of shit you're involved with."

"You owe those fuckers 10 grand and they sure as shit won't be getting it from me!" Tyler continues.

"Tyler, calm down," Dreads Guy says.

"I'm not gonna fucking calm down! I've been putting up with this shit for 23 fucking years!"

"You're just annoyed because your girlfriends moved in," Bald Guy says, glancing over at me. "I'm surprised. She looks like she's nice and tight."

My mouth drops.

"Oi, shut your mouth!" Owen calls.

"Ah, she's fucking both of you then?"

"Watch it!" Tyler scolds.

"John," Dread Guy interferes. "This isn't the fucking time."

"Fine, fine," John sighs.

"Do you owe them money or not?"

"Just fucking admit it!" Tyler calls. "I never want to see those fuckers again!"

"Yeah, I owe them some money, but it's not a big deal," John shrugs.

"Not a big deal?" Tyler yells. "If it wasn't a big deal, they wouldn't be stabbing me, would they?"

"Bullshit. They didn't do that."

"Why the fuck do you think I can't train, huh?"

Wait... what? This whole thing Is so confusing to me.

"You know what? I don't give a fuck. Take the fucking money," Tyler continues. "I'll fucking double it, as long as you get the fuck out of my life."

"You don't mean that," Dreads Guy says.

"Yes, I fucking do!"

"Transfer it now and I'll go," John says.

"You can't be serious," Dreads Guy grumbles.

Tyler pulls out his phone, ready to make the transfer. But there's no way in hell he has that kind of money. He's a college student. He has to be just as poor as the rest of us. Owen has a job, but I have no idea what Tyler does.

"Don't fucking do it, bro," Owen says.

"I'm not," Tyler says, looking up at his father. "Ten grand to your friends and 0 to you."

"The fuck do you mean?" John scowls.

"You ducking heard me!"

"You can't fucking do that to me."

"Ducking watch me."

"Ty-,"

"Don't fucking call me that!"

"Fine!" John grumbles. "But I can't fucking leave."

"I don't give a shit."

"I need the money!"

"You should've thought of that before you fucked me over!"

"What am I gonna do, huh? You're just gonna let your old man starve?"

"Don't act like you don't blow your whole paycheck on coke!"

John doesn't respond. He looks up the guy with dreadlocks, trying to figure out what to say.

"You're okay with this, Dev?" he asks.

"This dynamic is clearly not working," Dev responds. "And I've got to do what's best for my team."

"Fuck you guys," John scoffs. "I'm out of here."

He grabs his bag off the concrete floor, heading towards the door. I step aside, not wanting to be anywhere near him. He slams the metal door, causing it to rattle loudly. He disappears into the darkness.

"Don't worry," Dev says. "I've already sent my guys to clean up your apartment."

"Thanks, man," Tyler nods. "I can't fucking believe that guy."

"You don't have to be so hard on him. He's your father."

"A father doesn't set his son up as collateral with his dealer."

I can't help but wonder what would've happened if Tyler wasn't there. If I was home alone and that guy broke in. I wouldn't know what to do. I could've died.

"Sarah?" Owen snaps me out of my thoughts. "Are you okay? You look a little pale."

"Yeah, I uh...," I hesitate. I'm just trying to make sense of what happened here tonight.

Tyler is right. No father should be okay with putting his child's life in danger. His whole attitude makes a lot more sense now. His father must be an addict of some sort, which has ruined his relationship with Tyler. But I still have so many questions. What is this place? Why are we here? What is this whole 'team' thing about?

"You're Sarah?" Dev asks. "I'm Devon."

I smile at him, taking a step towards him. We meet in the middle, and he shakes my hand. He smells like sweat, but it's not too gross.

"Sorry you got thrown in the middle of this," he continues. "Family drama can be a pain, huh? But Tyler did the right thing by bringing you here."

I glance over at him to see his response, but he probably can't hear us. He's walked to the back of the room, and is scowling down at his phone.

I'm not really sure how to respond to Devon, but thankfully, Owen joins the conversation. He really calms my nerves.

"I don't understand any of this," I tell him. "What is this place?"

"She doesn't know?" Devon glances at Owen, who shakes his head "Wow, okay."

"Know what?" I ask.

"Ask Tyler," Owen says.

"But he hates me."

"No, he doesn't. He's like that to everyone."

"Not you, not Lena."

"We're exceptions."

And I'm not.

"Oh," I say. "Why can't you just tell me?"

He shrugs. "I don't really have anything to tell."

Great. None of my questions are being answered, and there's no way in hell I'm asking Tyler.

I just want to go to bed.