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“Hey,” he said, tapping one on the shoulder. “You’ve seen that Reaper dude fight before, huh?”
“Fight?” The guy scoffed. “More like annihilate. Not sure he knows how to do anything else. I already placed bets he’ll lose his shit and throat-punch his opponent.”
Travis’s eyes widened. “Uh, is there something you’re not tellin’ us, young Truitt?” he asked me.
With all our friends’ eyes on me, keeping my lips zipped was becoming an increasingly difficult task.
“Is Daire some secret assassin warrior fighter?” West waggled his brows.
“Yeah, that’s exactly it.” I shook my head and directed them to focus their attention on the ring. “How about you all just shut up and watch?”
“Someone is a little bit touchy,” Travis pointed out, but that wasn’t it at all. I was nervous. Daire had trained so hard for this, and wanted it so badly, I couldn’t help but worry what would happen if things didn’t go well.
I watched with laser focus as Daire and his opponent met in the middle of the ring with the referee, who was no doubt telling them to have a clean fight, touch gloves, and head back to their corners. Unlike the host of the underground, who basically said,Anything goes, just don’t kill each other.
“Gav, you okay?” Donovan rubbed my arm. “You look a little pale.”
“How can you tell?” West laughed to himself, but Preston nodded.
“He does look a shade whiter than usual.”
“I’m just… I’m nervous, okay?”I said.
“Oh, come on, any guy that has a reaper inked on him isn’t going down without a fight.” Travis pursed his lips, giving me a once-over. “I mean, does he? Go down without a fight?”
I shoved him in the arm. “Like I’d tell you.”
“Man, what is it with everyone lately? You find a guy, hook up, and suddenly it’s like you all signed some sexual NDA. You used to be such a fun bunch. It’s so disappointing.”
“Yeah, because now wecareabout who we’re with.” Donovan patted him on the shoulder. “You should try it sometime.”
I tuned Travis out and focused back on the ring. My nerves eased somewhat as Daire ran his tongue over the required mouth guard. He’d bitched and moaned after every training match about how uncomfortable the damn thing was, and whileI commiserated, I was secretly happy to know that he would finally have some sort of protection during his fight. Including the sparring gloves he wore.
The sound of the mic switching on came over the sound system and filtered through the speakers as the referee looked at Daire and said, “Ready to fight?” When Daire nodded, the referee turned his attention to his opponent and asked the same question. Once he got the all-clear, he clapped his hands together and the bell sounded.
The crowd quieted, a hum of excitement filling the warehouse as the two men began to size one another up. This part of the fight felt very similar to the underground, the way Daire was zeroing in on his opponent, no doubt looking for any kind of tells before he pounced—then it happened.
Daire was across the mat, striking out first with a quick jab to the chest and cross-blow to the jaw, starting off strong. His opponent fell back a step, stumbling over his feet at the force of that first punch. But he was quick to recover, bouncing back on his toes like he hadn’t just seen the Milky Way spinning over his head. His eyes tracked Daire as they moved around the ring.
I brought a hand up to my mouth, biting down on my nail, as the guy made a rush for Daire. He kicked out and landed a blow to Daire’s thigh at the same time he struck him with an uppercut to the face.
“Motherfuckingouch!” West winced as Daire’s head snapped back, and I couldn’t help but do the same, because that one had tohurt.
“Reaper! Reaper!” The crowd started up again, and like something had just gone off in his brain—or been knocked loose—Daire straightened, rolled his shoulders, and narrowed his eyes on the man opposite him.
TheReaperhad finally come out to play.
“Is it me or does Daire look like he suddenly wants to—ohshit”—Travis feinted to the left like he was the one dodging Daire’s fist—“kill that guy?”
Another cross-hook, and Daire was grabbing “that guy’s” shoulders and pulling him down to land a hard knee strike to the stomach. There was a loud gasp of air from the man as Daire moved in, shifted slightly down, then hooked a leg around his opponent’s and tackled him to the ground.
Once they were there, there was a whole lot of rolling around and punching that was difficult to see from where we stood. But since the referee didn’t call a stop to it, I figured it was all by the rules as Daire straddled his opponent and began to land strike after strike to his head.
“Sweet mother of— Gavin?” Travis grinned at me. “You let him straddle you like this at home?”
I flipped him off, but my eyes never wavered from the fight. Daire tightened his thighs and rolled, moving the two of them across the mat until he was taking the other man in a chokehold.Daire wound an arm around his neck and his legs around his waist.
I caught West in my periphery looking my way. “Don’t say it.”
