AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I stood off to the side of the ring as the ref announced the winner of the last fight. It had only gone two rounds before the guy with blond corn rows had tapped out. Good. I fecking hated that guy.
I peeled off my shirt and sweats, tossing them to the side.
I wasn’t playing music this time to get me pumped up. I didn’t need inspiration for a win.
I was about to lose for the first time in my life. But I was only losing a fight, which was absolutely meaningless to me in the long run. Worse than that, I was losing Anna.
“McGregor! McGregor!” It was like a chorus all around me when it was announced Frankie and I were coming up next.
Dammit, I didn’t want to do this. I’d never wanted to not fight so much in my life.
I still couldn’t forget the look on Anna’s face Wednesday night. She had seemed so betrayed—it had gutted me. I was the cause of her pain.
She was better off without me, though. Everyone was.
“You ready?” The ref was the same guy who’d called Leslie’s fight a few months ago. Now he was here to witness my demise.
I glanced over at Frankie as they announced his name and he climbed the stairs into the ring.
“Yeah. I’m ready,” I muttered. I stretched the black gloves on over my hands. I cracked my knuckles, and then my neck. I shook my limbs to loosen up.
But what did it matter?
Of course, Donovan didn’t want me to make it look obvious that I was throwing the fight. I’d at least get in a few good shots. But I needed to throw my jabs and elbows lighter than normal. I couldn’t very well afford to knock the bloke out accidentally.
“Feck me,” I whispered as I climbed into the ring. The room went dark for a moment as a damn light show of our nation’s colors flashed around the room and Irish folk music blared. Sure, because Donovan Hannigan was so patriotic.
I shook out my arms and bounced on the balls of my feet. People sang and cheered, acting as if they were actually in a professional arena and not at a fight hosted by a crime boss.
When the lights came back on, I was staring into Frankie’s dark brown eyes, my chest inflating as anger filled me. If only Les hadn’t fought him that day . . . but then I’d never have gotten to know Anna.
“You can touch gloves if you choose. And—”
I didn’t even hear the rest. I couldn’t hear anything. The world had fallen silent. I looked around, and I could see people’s mouths moving. The crowd was making noise, but I was somehow outside it all. Nothing existed but Frankie and me.
Frankie swung. He overshot, putting way too much weight on his right leg as he came at me. I blocked his punch and countered with a light tap.
“Come on,” his lips urged.
I allowed him to lunge forward again. A punch to my chin and a leg kick to my torso. I fell back and smacked hard against the ground. I had never been much of a grappler, so I wouldn’t have to pretend to give him the advantage on the floor.
Frankie kneeled over me, and my head snapped to the left as he punched me, and I squeezed my eyes shut before I took an elbow to the face.
There was the taste of metal in my mouth—blood on my lip. I opened my eyes and began to fight back, forgetting momentarily Donovan’s rules. I wrapped my leg around his and threw my own elbow, catching him in the side of the face, and then I flipped him off me and hopped back up.
The crackling sound of his bone to my flesh inspired me even more, causing my fingers to twitch with anticipation. But shit—I wasn’t supposed to be doing this. Losing would be a hell of a lot harder than I’d realized.
I dropped my guard a little, and Frankie plowed toward me. I slowly raised my fists as if to protect myself. Another punch to the face busted my lip completely.
I kicked his shin and jabbed an uppercut to his core. It had to look legit, right?
Two more punches connected with Frankie’s face, and he stumbled back, blinking.
Shit. Keep it together, Frankie.
Fortunately, the man straightened and regained his composure.
He came at me with a jab to my face.
