38. Tyler

The heat from the fire raises a wall between me and the bar as I scramble out the back door. A few people tumble out after me and I hear the door clang shut within the roaring fires. Sweat runs down the side of my face like thin tears and all I smell is dirt and smoke.

I stumble away from the blazing building. I cover my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket and run past the crumbling bar and towards my truck. The red doors reflect the burning light of the fire and I watch every flicker and swish of the flames in it.

My body collides with my truck and I slam my hand against the heated metal. Everything is silent apart from the thundering noise of fire. I never realized how loud fire is before but now it's the only sound I'll be hearing for days, its lion's roar tunnelling through my ears and making my eyes water.

I fumble around in the back pockets of my jeans to find my keys but the metal is slippery and uncooperative against my sweaty hands. I sink my teeth into my lip, feeling the panic envelop me as the heat of the fire creeps up the back of my neck.

"Tyler!"

I hear my name being yelled and my head whips around until I see two figures on the other side of the parking lot. One is holding the other back and I take a step forward, trying to see past the shimmering heat until I realize it's Franny, with Ethan trying to keep her at bay. Relief hits me in the chest and my face softens, my legs starting to move and my mouth slipping open to speak. But as the relief hits, a wave of panic and a painful clench of my chest makes it fade away as a figure walks up behind Ethan and slams a fist into the back of his head. His body crumples to the ground and a bag is thrown over Franny's head.

I shout, but it's too late and a bag is thrown over my head from behind as I feel a sharp pain in my head.

***

"Take the fucking bag off," a voice growls. "And put her somewhere else, but make sure he can see her."

Footsteps sound around the room. I'm surrounded by darkness until someone pulls off the bag and my eyes are stung with harsh, artificial light. I clench them shut and blink repeatedly as they water up profusely. When my eyes slowly begin to focus, they land on a set of knees directly in front of me.

I look up slowly and meet Carl's eyes looking down at me. I look away from his smile and try to dull the pain in my head by letting my eyes fall out of focus.

"No, no," I hear Carl say before a hand is gripping my hair and tugging my head up. "Eyes up, nice and focused. There's a lot I want you to see."

His hand leaves my hair and I press a hand to the ground, looking around. I've been left on my knees in the middle of a boxing ring. Carl is the only person in the ring with me, but the room is nearly full. Face after face looks back at me, all familiar and all known, as they stand around the ring—waiting.

And then my eyes land on someone standing in one of the corners of the room. Franny, her face bloody and a man gripping her arm from behind. Her eyes meet mine and she gives a subtle nod that no one else would have probably noticed. I breathe a short sigh of relief, knowing that she's okay, and turn back to Carl.

"You hit her," I say.

"I have no qualms about hitting women," Carl says.

"She's a kid compared to you," I say.

"So are you," Carl says. "And I have no problems about hitting your face until your little girlfriend can't recognize you."

"Why's she here?" I ask.

"Assurance," Carl says.

"For what?" I frown as Carl moves around and suddenly there's a bat in his hand. I see him raise it before it swings out of sight and a spasm of pain shoots up my arm. I can't help the strangled yell that comes out as I fall to the floor, my head at Carl's feet.

"Assurance that you'll be cooperative."

I groan and roll over, away from him. I press my cheek to the floor of the boxing ring and suck in a large breath.

"Come on, Tyler," he says tauntingly. "There's much more that's going to happen tonight. I need you to be awake for it!"

I hear the swoosh of the bat again and my entire body tenses up noticeably. Carl lets out a manic cackle and the bat drops to the floor as he claps his hands together.

"I'm sorry, Ty," he says softly. "Did the bat scare you?"

I turn my head and press my palms against the floor to lift myself up. "What are you gonna do?"

Carl smiles as he crouches down. "There's no fun if there are no surprises."

He stands up, eyes searching the tense crowd of people. He kicks the bat and it goes skidding towards the ropes surrounding the ring.

"I know," Carl says. "How about we all play a game. For every grand I've lost, one of you loses your life."

My eyes widen and I shove myself up onto my side, hand keeping my upper body up. "Carl, stop."

"Which one should go first?" Carl hums as he brings a gun from his jacket pocket.

It's then I see the men standing at the two sets of doors that lead out of the room, holding everything out and everyone in. I hear the safety click of Carl's gun and my eyes snap over to Franny.

'Look at me', I mouth to her over and over again.

Her eyes stay stuck on mine and I see her knuckles turn white from where they're gripping the bottom of her shirt. I see Carl circle around beside me and I know Franny can see him too, circling and circling. Then there's a gunshot.

It's the sound of a body falling to the floor that I hear the most though. I don't look over to see who it is, but I know it's someone I was friendly with, someone who would have stuck with me. Carl will never kill his loyalists without a good enough reason.

"One thousand," Carl mutters.

Another gunshot.

"Two thousand."

Another body.

"Three thousand."

Franny's body shakes and her eye twitches, becoming moist, but she just grips her shirt tighter and sucks in a breath.

Four thousand. Five thousand.

"Six thousand." Carl smiles and slides his gun away.

Six dead bodies. My eyes flicker away from Franny's and I look at the crumpled bodies on the floor, trying not to throw up. Carl's shoes come up towards me before his body shifts down, crouching in front of me.

"You should never fuck with things you don't understand," he hisses quietly and then suddenly smiles. "Come on, get up."

He roughly helps me get up from the floor, arm gripping the part of my arm where he hit me. I scrunch up my face to stop myself from crying out in pain.

"That's better," Carl says. "Now, how about one last fight, for old time's sake?"

I begin to shake my head, but Carl grips my arm tighter until I nod.

"Perfect." He smiles. "Boys, come on up."

He lets go of my arm and I stumble back, body searing with pain and exhaustion. The room is silent. And that just makes everything so much worse. I look at Franny but her eyes are elsewhere. I follow them to find her looking at the five men stepping into the boxing ring as Carl slips out the other side. The five of them are tall, imposing and most definitely intimidating. I stand against the ropes, breathing labored and body a mess of blood, sweat and grime.

"Whenever you're ready," Carl says from the crowd.

And before I know it, there's a fist in my face and another in my gut.

The pain is excruciating—bright, bold and burning.

This isn't a fight. There's no even level, no chance for me to even get a hit in. This is Carl's idea of justice being acted out perfectly on a stage, like a performance.

Time disappears. Minutes are the number of hits I take. Seconds are the gasps of air I manage to suck in. At some point, through the pain, I hear footsteps and voices, loud and rowdy. There's a commotion and my attackers fall back. I turn to my side slowly and cough out a thick trail of blood.

"He's just a kid!" I hear someone yell, and other voices shout in agreement before a sharper voice cuts them off.

I open my eyes and look over to the side of the boxing ring to see Carl standing with his chest against another man, his loyalists hanging behind him. The other man, someone I recognize as a frequent fighter, is yelling at Carl. A group of men stand behind him, spurring the argument on. I look to the rest of the room, at the people arguing, and the bodies on the ground, lying there alone.

I glance over and see Franny, still held captive in the corner, is staring at them too.

"Stand the fuck down, Danson!" Carl yells, making me look back to them.

Danson ignores him and says something while giving a sharp push to Carl's chest, making him step back. I blink at the wrong time and out of nowhere Carl has a gun in his hand and the trigger goes off, pointed straight towards Danson's head. The distance between the gun and the man is small and his body flings back, skidding to the floor and stopping near Franny's feet.

She stares at the barrel of Carl's gun like she is seeing a ghost.

"Are you all done now?" Carl roars.

And then there is anarchy.

Carl's gun is thrown out of his hand and a few gunshots later, the two men standing at the back doors slide to the ground with a trail of blood in their wake. The man behind Franny gets a bullet to the head and from there it is chaos. Bodies moving back and forth, gunshots banging through the room every few seconds, shouts and yells layered with hatred and cries of pain bounce from the walls. Blood spatters across the once perfectly white room. It stains the ropes of the boxing ring, seeps into the wallpaper, and runs along the floor.

A breeze of cool air hits my side and I slowly stand up to see people running out the back doors and into the darkness of the night. I take a step forward but a hand to my arm stops me and I whirl around, my nose almost knocking Carl's.

I then realize it's just Carl and me left in the room, along with numerous dead bodies and a few of his loyalists who have been beaten up or shot. Their groans of pain are the only sounds in the room.

"What have you done?" Carl breathes raggedly. "Everything I've done, everything, was for you! And how do you repay me, huh? I got you off the streets, I gave you money, I taught you how to fight, I was there when your parents weren't." Carl grabs the collar of my shirt and yanks it hysterically, forcing me to my knees. "I toughened you up, got you in with the bigger fighters. I killed all those fucking people for you! Jason Robson, Alex Tillman, Donny Ernest, Peter Suthers —you can see their bodies right now over there. They're dead so I could teach you a lesson, so you can be the best you can ever be! I let you in, Tyler, so you could be like a son to me! But instead you nearly destroy my entire fighting ring. You've cost me thousands, you little shit!" Carl narrows his eyes. "I've killed all those men, I can kill you too."

I reach into my pocket and then bring my hand up, showing Carl a little device that's flashing red. I press stop on the recording button and flick the alert switch on the back, huffing out a breath.

"Gotcha."

Carl's angry face falls in confusion before the doors and the two boarded-up windows are kicked in. Wood and glass fall onto the floor in a puddle and quick-moving bodies pour through the open entrances, guns in hand, wearing thick vests and pure black helmets. I sigh in relief at the SWAT that finally made it to my location.

All guns point to Carl, standing above me, and as he reaches for his weapon in a split-second decision, a thin, crisp-sounding shot goes off. Carl's hand whips back, bleeding. He falls to the ground with a cry, grasping his injured hand to his chest.

Two people come up quickly and grab Carl, pressing his arms to his back and slapping cuffs on his wrists.

The satisfaction reels through me.

The cops come through, arresting those who are still conscious and checking who has passed. I stay in the boxing ring until a hand comes to my shoulder from behind. I turn and see one of the SWAT team standing over me. They hold their hand out and I know immediately that it's Detective Franks. I press the little device into his palm and he gives me a nod before squeezing my shoulder.

"How did you find me?" I ask, voice weak.

"Your friend, Ethan. He followed you both when you were taken and called me."

"But he was knocked out," I say.

Detective Franks smiles slightly. "Not hard enough. He was just dazed for a bit, apparently."

"We need an ambulance!" I hear a muffled yell come from across the room and I look over to see someone hovering over a slumped form against the wall.

I try to get up off my knees but the pain and exhaustion hit me and I stumble back down.

Franny sits against the wall, breathing heavily and gripping the side of her stomach through her dress, which is wet with blood. I watch helplessly as her eyes find mine, until a paramedic finally comes rushing in, getting her onto a stretcher and out of the room. The wind is knocked out of me and my eyes lose focus.

I slump forward and nearly hit my head on the ground as I fall into silence, everything slowing down as I lie within a circle of bodies.

- Ellie x