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We go back to watching the match. My hands graze her sides and she leans back a fraction. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
With her back lightly brushing against my front, watching the match in front of us is the last thing on my mind. I curl my hands over her hips, taking a firmer hold. Damn, she fits me just right. She glances over her shoulder, confusion clouding her wide eyes and I back off.
She’s here to do a job, not be groped by me.
My attention wanders to the fight. One of the guys takes a shot to the chin. Aubrey squeezes her eyes shut. Her reactions are so different from most of the girls at these fights who get turned on by the violence.
Neither of the fighters have any skill so it’s a boring match that earns a lot of boos from the crowd.
Griff circles the area around the cage a few times, finally ending up next to us.
“Where’d you find these fools?” I ask.
He rolls his eyes. “Kids Molly goes to school with.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Remy’s not letting his little sister hang out here is he?”
“Hell no.”
The two kids lock arms and start pushing each other around the ring. Griff groans and shakes his head. “These two fucks.”
One of them gets knocked to the ground and Griff puts an end to the match.
“Well, that seemed fast,” Aubrey says.
“Just wait until we get two who actually know what they’re doing in there,” I say.
Her eyes widen. “That got pretty intense at the end. It can be worse?”
“Yes. Longer too.”
She shakes her head and glances down at her hands. “I need to do my thing.”
“Go ahead. I’ll be here.”
She tilts her head to the side. Her mouth opens, then closes, as if she’s debating her words. “I’m glad you’re here,” she finally says in a rush.
So am I.
CHAPTER TWELVE
My heart won’t stop hammering and my stomach won’t stop fluttering as I strut my stuff in front of the crowd. Griff announces the next fight, but I’m too nervous and wrapped up in what I’m doing to pay attention.
Honestly, the tingles gathered inside me have to do more with Sully than nerves.
I can’t believe he showed up.
To watch out for me?
Is he worried it’s really that dangerous? Is he jealous?
It’s probably none of the above. He’s just a nice guy.
Although the brief way he touched me before suggested something else.
My gaze flickers to him once more. There are plenty of young, good-looking, fit guys running around. Somehow Sully stands apart from all of them. Maybe it’s the space people give him, the confidence he projects, or his take-no-shit posture. Whatever it is, it’s hard to look away.
He catches me staring at him and flashes a quick, reassuring smile.
The bell rings and I hurry over to stand with Sully for the next fight. He slips an arm around my shoulders and nods at the cage.
Jake’s up and my body seizes. I don’t want to see him get hurt.
Sully seems to sense my distress and leans down. “My brother has good reason for being a cocky bastard.”
“What’s that?”
“He’s a skilled fighter. Don’t worry.”
I tilt my head back, meeting his eyes and we stare at each other for a few heartbeats.
A roar from the crowd tears our gazes apart and we focus on the cage.
“The other guy’s so big,” I whisper to Sully.
The corner of his mouth quirks. “Won’t matter. Jake has better skills.”
“But—”
“Trust me. Watch.”
Jake’s friend, Murphy, jogs up to Sully’s other side and they nod at each other. After the brief acknowledgment, they both focus on the fight.
I drag my attention away from Sully to Jake, who looks completely at ease as he throws a number of short, quick kicks at his opponent’s left leg.
“What’s he doing?”
“Rowdy thinks all he needs is size and strength. Jake’s going to school him tonight.”
“That’s not helpful.”
Sully chuckles and lifts his chin toward his brother. “He’s distracting him with those kicks so he can get in a headshot.”
Five seconds later, Jake does just that, landing a punch that opens up a cut under his opponent’s eye.
I squeal at the splash of red on the fighter’s face, ducking against Sully’s side and he squeezes me tighter.
He doesn’t laugh or make fun of me for my squeamishness. Scolding myself for being childish, I stand up straight and scan the room. The crowd’s moving closer to the ring, the noise ratcheting up several degrees. Murphy edges closer as well, keeping an eye not on the fight, but on two guys standing close to the cage. He bumps Sully with his elbow and Sully acknowledges it with a nod.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Take him down!” someone in the crowd screams and several more echo the sentiment. I’m not sure if they expect Jake to do the takedown or the other guy. I hope they’re rooting for Jake.
A few seconds later, the big guy launches himself at Jake, tackling him to the floor with a boom and thud that echoes in the room.
“Jake! Oh my God!” I shout, moving closer so I can see if he’s okay.
“He’s fine,” Sully assures me, moving my body directly in front of him. His arms curl around my shoulders, blocking anyone from knocking into me.
“That guy will crush him.”
Sully’s rumbling laughter vibrates against my back. He leans down, warm breath ghosting over my cheek. “Look closely. He’s the one in control.”
Once I calm myself, I see Sully’s right. The bigger guy’s red cheeks and sweaty forehead signal his frustration. In contrast, Jake’s completely calm as he rolls side to side, unbalancing the other fighter. Rowdy throws wild punches that don’t land and Jake answers with two solid jabs that strike their target. More blood leaks from fresh cuts on Rowdy’s face.
“End it,” Sully mutters under his breath. “Finish him.”
Jake rolls again, capturing and pinning his opponent’s arm in a crushing leg lock.
Murphy laughs and Sully curses.
“What’s wrong?”
“He’s gonna drag it out,” Sully explains.
Rowdy struggles and even pinches Jake’s nipple with his free hand, but he can’t get loose. His face twists into a mask of pain and Griff jumps into the cage to call the match in Jake’s favor.
“Why’d he end it?”
Murphy leans over to answer, “Jake was two seconds from snapping Rowdy’s arm.”
“Oh.”
&nb
sp; Griff tugs the fighters apart and Jake turns to shake hands with his opponent, which is apparently what’s expected no matter how messy the fights turn.
Rowdy gives his back to Jake who shrugs and walks the perimeter of the cage.
The crowd jostles us forward and I notice the two guys Murphy had been watching earlier rush into the cage going straight for Jake.
“Sully!” I shout, tugging on his arm to get his attention.
It only takes him a second to assess the situation. “Stay here,” he orders. He taps Murphy on the arm and the two of them take after the guys headed toward Jake.
Murphy’s only a step behind me as we take after the two jerks planning to jump my brother.
Jake—the cocky asshole—is too busy chatting up female fans to notice Rowdy’s friends.
One reaches Jake and lands a kidney shot, bringing my brother to one knee.
“Son of a bitch.”
His attacker turns and attempts to shove me back, but I step out of his line of movement, throwing out my hand and grabbing his chin. The momentum carries both of us forward. I yank him around and throw him to the ground where I strike. Two swift punches before backing off.
“Stay down,” I grind out, not in the mood for a prolonged fight.
Murphy has the other one pinned to the ground with his arm twisted up behind his back.
“You all right, bro?” I ask Jake, holding out my hand. He slaps it and stands.
“I’ll live.”
“Out!” Griff shouts, pushing Rowdy toward the cage door. His partner, Remy and a few other guys who’ve been in this circuit for years storm into the cage to take care of Rowdy’s friends.
“Sorry,” Griff says on his way out.
“Jake!” Aubrey yells when we step out of the cage. She rushes up to us with wild eyes and wet cheeks. “Are you okay?”
My brother puts on an Oscar-worthy performance of moaning and leaning on Aubrey. “I’m better now, thanks, sweetheart,” he says as she leads him toward the locker room.
Murphy catches the look on my face and laughs. “Who knew Jake had a death wish?”
