Sofia knows I’m coming. Except now that the fights are over, people are looking to leave, and it’s making it harder to park. I pull into a spot I think is close, but the size of the arena is so huge, I’m still far from the entrance.
My fingers dig into my purse, trying to find my phone as I run toward the building. I curse when something sharp pokes me, but manage to snag my phone and tap my screen to redial Sofia. She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”
Like a maniac, I weave through the crowd of people making their way out, speaking fast. “Sofia, I’m here. But I’m not sure where to go. I’m almost to the entrance. But I don’t have a ticket or-or―”
She hears the panic in my voice and tries to calm me. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll help you. Hold on.” Her voice becomes muffled as she speaks to someone else. “Sol is here. She’s almost to the entrance . . . Okay, where? . . . Okay . . . Okay. . . Sol? Seamus is coming for you. When you reach the entrance don’t go in. Walk toward the left and stay along the edge of the sidewalk. He’ll find you, okay? He’s coming for you.”
“All right, all right,” I repeat. For as gentle as she keeps her voice, I can tell she’s scared, too. I reach the front and cut a hard left. “How is he?” I ask.
The time it takes her to answer speaks volumes, but the way her voice trembles reflects the extent of her fear and almost makes me lose it. “He’s not good,” she answers.
My knees give a little. I don’t know what condition I’ll find Finn in, and I’m not positive my presence won’t trigger more trauma. I can’t even be sure I’m who he needs.
What I do know is that I’m not beaten and I’m not broken.
And neither is Finn.
I lurch forward, refusing to give up on him.
The crowd engulfs me, swallowing me whole. I’m not sure how Seamus will find me, or how I’ll be able to see him. But suddenly he arrives, riding inside a golf cart.
The guard driving punches the horn, parting the large cluster of people.
“Seamus!” I yell, waving and desperate to get his attention.
He sees me, instructing the guard to stop. He gets out long enough to help me into the back and slide in beside me. Seamus looks the most like Curran with the exception of his dark hair and leaner build. He always greets me with a big smile, and an even bigger hug. That’s not the case tonight.
He sits in silence, keeping his attention ahead. Maybe he doesn’t want to say anything the security guard might hear, or maybe the situation is just that serious. Whatever his reasons accelerate my anxiety, making me want to claw at my skin.
The golf cart zips down the lot, stopping at a side entrance where the press and a few reps are gathered. The reporters are speaking into their mics, their cameramen poised directly in front of them. Behind them, a wall of fighters stand with their arms crossed, evidently refusing to let anyone through.
“God damn leeches,” Seamus mutters.
By the way a reporter lunges our way, I know he’s not talking about the fighters. Seamus reaches for my hand, tucking me against him and shielding me as more press scrambles forward.
“Here with us is one of Finn ‘the Fury’ O’Brien’s brothers . . .” one reporter begins.
“Mr. O’Brien, is it true your bother is suffering some kind of emotional breakdown . . .”
I don’t know Seamus as well as the other O’Briens. But as his body grows rigid against me, I know it’s taking everything he has not to yank one of the cameras being rammed in our faces and smash it over someone’s skull.
“Let us in,” Seamus yells when we reach the concrete steps.
The fighters part just enough to allow me and Seamus to squeeze through, sealing their makeshift fortress of bodies the second we pass. As soon as the heavy door slams behind us, Seamus takes my hand and drags me down the hall running. I clutch my purse to keep it from smacking against my hip as we sprint past more fighters leaning against the white cinderblock walls.
As we round the corner, I see Declan, Finn’s older brother and acting District Attorney, standing beside Curran. Their expressions tighten as they speak to a swarm of security guards and officials gathered outside the locker room.
Declan straightens when he sees me, a flicker of what I interpret is relief flashing across his features. “I assure you he’s fine, and that we’ll be leaving the premises shortly,” he tells the crowd.
My eyes round at his words, and at the way Curran’s jaw squares when he spots me. They’re counting on me to get Finn out of here―to talk to him, calm him, or something. But their expression are so aggrieved, I’m not certain I’ll be enough. I only know, I have to try.