Sweet Peril (The Sweet Trilogy #2)(35)
Flynn toyed with his prey, allowing the guy to make a few shots, but it was obvious even to me, who knew nothing about the sport, that the Ghost was biding his time. Otherwise the show would end too quickly. They parried for the duration of the first round, minor hits and blocks made. By the middle of round two, the crowd was growing restless, hollering jeers, wanting action.
Flynn was not one to disappoint. Like a whirlwind, he spun and kicked out his opponent’s feet, then slammed him to the mat, bringing forth a roar from the crowd. At one point the other guy gave a surprise knee to Flynn’s side. Flynn, now ticked off, swiftly flipped the other fighter over his shoulder, landed on top of him with an elbow to the sternum, and began to pummel his face. As the crowd worked into a frenzy, cheering him on for the knock out, I felt my anxiety rise. Flynn didn’t appear ready to stop anytime soon. The greed was kicking in. Get your win and get out of there, Flynn. When his opponent’s face oozed a substantial amount of blood, the ref finally pulled Flynn off and I breathed again.
Kope and I looked at each other at the same time. This match was over. Time to go. By the time we made it to the doors and showed our backstage passes, Flynn was being announced as the winner and still undefeated champion of his weight class.
We rounded the corner and looked back. Nobody else was in the hall, so we slipped through the door with Flynn’s name on front. We surveyed the space inside—a combination between a locker room and dressing room. Two wooden benches sat parallel in the middle.
A sudden flashback of Zania with a knife at my throat brought on a sick wave. How would Flynn react to the surprise arrival of two Neph? His hands and feet were weapons. And why didn’t Kope ever seem nervous? He eyed me as I gnawed my thumbnail.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I yanked it out. A text from Dad.
Get hidden NOW.
I almost dropped the thing like a hot coal. Who was coming? How close were they? Should we try to leave the building or just hide? I showed the text to Kope. We both spun, searching the room, seeing the closet door at the same time, and immediately moving toward it.
We pushed our way into the small cleaning closet that smelled of sweat and bleach. It was pitch-dark and cramped as I pulled the knob behind me. When I turned around to face the closed door, I must have nudged a bucket because there was a clanking sound of a mop hitting the wall and my heart hammered. Kope stood right behind me, and I could feel his fast heartbeat against my shoulder. There was no crack in the doorframe to peek through. We’d have to rely on listening.
I imagined the hallway we’d come down from the arena. I flexed my hearing that way until I found a group congratulating Flynn. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. A short time passed before Flynn told everyone that he needed to hit the shower.
We were both utterly still, listening while Flynn came into the room. His bare feet slapped against the floor tiles as he moved to the corner for a shower. He cleaned up incredibly fast, then there were sounds of clothing rustling as he got dressed. I was beginning to think this was all a false alarm, until the pungent stink of cigar wafted underneath the closet door.
“Father!” Flynn exclaimed. My heart sank. A freaking Duke was right on the other side of the door. I started to sweat. How had this happened? Thank God Duke Mammon wouldn’t be able to sense me like Pharzuph with his annoying virginity-sniffing nose.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” Flynn said. “You missed a bloody awesome fight. It went off!”
He recalled the best of the gory details to his appreciative father. I heard a hoarse laugh.
“I was listening as I drove up, but it’s just not the same. The car show was a snore. I’ve already owned half the ones they showed at some point or another. And you’ve never seen such fugly gold-digging women in your life. You know I can enjoy a greedy woman with the best of ’em but only if she’s a looker, eh?”
Flynn laughed, a jovial burst that would have matched the smile from his pictures, and his father joined in. I didn’t like how chummy they seemed to be.
“Let me take you out for lunch and drinks this arvo, m’boy. Grab a few of your mates. Nothing like a pack of young hooligans to stir up the females!”
They joked a bit more while Flynn got his things together, and they exited the room. I extended my hearing to listen as the friends were invited and rounded up, then as they got in the car, hollering over one another, closing doors, and driving away. Kope and I stood frozen, waiting for them to drive at least five miles—out of the Duke’s hearing range. I flopped my head back on Kope’s chest, and allowed my heart rate to decelerate.
That had been close. Too close. How had Dad known? If one of his whisperers had caught sight of Mammon coming, wouldn’t the whisperer have warned me directly instead of going back to Dad first? Or was Dad here in Australia right now, too? Well, I guessed it didn’t matter—crisis averted. I’d figure out those details later. Now we just had to sneak out of this place without drawing any atten—What is that smell?
My rambling thoughts were interrupted by the aroma of a rich, caramely sweetness in the air that weakened my bones. I recognized that smell. It was the same one I’d sensed when Kope had tackled me to the ground the day we’d met.
My body tensed with awareness. I became conscious of his broad chest and abs against my back and his warm breath brushing my ear and face. He smelled and felt so good.
I was shocked into inaction.