“So,” Demi says, leaning in with a smile, “how was your first day at the salon?”
I launch into the story of my day, and the girls listen, asking questions and laughing at my impressions of Mercy and the other stylists. It feels so normal, so right, just sitting here with friends, gossiping and drinking. For a moment, I can almost forget that we’re in an illegal fight club owned by outlaws.
The conversation flows easily, moving from my job to Demi’s nursing classes, to Cleo’s latest project with the city, petitioning for more funding for the women’s shelter she works at. McKenna listens to everyone’s stories, but the look in her eyes says something’s bothering her.
She sighs heavily, swirling the ice in her glass. “Diana came by the clubhouse today,” she says, her voice tight.
The mood shifts instantly, the other women exchanging glances.
Who’s Diana?
“What happened?” Cleo asks gently.
McKenna shrugs, but I can see the hurt in her eyes. “Nothing, really. She dropped off the kids to see Pee Wee, and I just... I had to stand there and pretend I wasn’t fucking her husband.”
Demi reaches over and squeezes McKenna’s hand. “I’m sorry, Kenny.”
“It’s bullshit is what it is,” McKenna says, anger replacing the hurt. “He says he doesn’t love her, that he’s only staying with her because of the kids. How long am I supposed to stick around and wait for him to end things with her?”
I bite my lip, not sure what to say. I’ve only just met these people, and I don’t want to overstep.
“Have you talked to him about it?” I ask cautiously.
McKenna laughs humorlessly. “Only about a thousand times. He always has some excuse. ‘It’s not the right time,’ or ‘The kids aren’t ready.’ Meanwhile, I’m stuck in this... limbo. Not his wife, but more than a hookup.”
My heart aches for her. I can’t imagine loving someone who’s married to someone else, who keeps you a secret. I send a silent thank you to whatever gods are listening that Aaron is all mine.
“You deserve better,” Cleo says firmly. “And I say that as someone who loves Pee Wee like a brother.”
McKenna sighs again, finishing her drink in one long swallow. “I know. But I love him. Stupid as that makes me, I love him.”
We all fall silent, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Then the music cuts out abruptly, and an announcer’s voice booms through the speakers.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the main event of the evening!”
The crowd erupts, people surging toward the cage. The announcer continues building the hype for the final fight of the night.
“In the red corner, weighing in at 195 pounds, the undefeated champion of the Underground, our very own…… KLUTCH!”
The room explodes in booming cheers as Klutch enters the arena, shirtless and muscled, wearing nothing but fight shorts with his hands wrapped. Beside me, Demi stands, her face a mask of worry as she watches her man step into the cage.
I lace my fingers through hers, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”
She nods, but I can see the fear in her eyes. “I know. It’s just... it scares the crap out of me every time he’s in there.”
The announcer introduces Klutch’s opponent, some big guy from Chicago, but the crowd is clearly here for their champion. The referee gives instructions, the bell rings, and the fight begins.
I’ve never seen anything like it. The Klutch I met in Florida—quiet, stoic, protective of Demi—is an entirely different man in the cage. He’s brutal, dangerous, beautifully violent. His opponent doesn’t stand a chance.
In the third round, Klutch catches his opponent with a vicious right hook that sends him crashing to the mat. The crowd goes wild as the referee steps in to call the fight, raising Klutch’s hand in victory.
“Thank the gods, it’s over.” Demi lets out the breath she was holding, relief flooding her face as she watches Klutch exit the cage without a mark on him.
As the crowd begins to disperse, Aaron appears at the rope, his eyes finding mine immediately. I smile at him, and he holds out his hand, helping me over the barrier and into his arms.
“Have fun with your girls?” he asks, his arm sliding around my waist.
I nod, leaning into his solid warmth. “It was fun.”
