The fight finished. As the battered fighters climbed out of the ring, some of the cleanup crew climbed in to wipe the blood away.
Then I spotted my dad.
He was standing near the ring, talking with one of the fighters. I bit my lip. He looked…old. Lines creased his face, his shoulders were hunched, and he kept his head down.
I looked away. I didn’t want anything to do with him.
“Annnnnd now, the fight you’ve been waiting for.” The announcer’s deep voice echoed through the space and the lights went out, drenching us in darkness. “The rematch that will rock the ring. Rampage versus the Wolf!”
Strobe lights crisscrossed the crowd, and the spectators went absolutely wild. The cheers, stomping feet, and screams were deafening.
“Anton ‘Rampage’ Kamensky is out for revenge, ladies and gentlemen. Looking to even the score.”
A spotlight highlighted Anton as he appeared from the tunnel leading to the locker rooms. He was wearing red shorts, his massive, hairy chest bare. He pumped one huge arm into the air and roared.
The crowd roared back.
My throat was dry. Anton didn’t look nervous or worried.
Cole had beaten him twice. He should look nervous.
My stomach twisted. He had something planned. I could feel it. There were no rules in this fight ring. Often, the fighters had their own code, but I knew that the crowd loved when a fighter went rogue. Loved when they spilled blood.
“But here comes our second fighter, looking as cool as ever and ready to fight. The Wolf!”
Cole walked out, his stride brisk but steady. He didn’t look worried and he barely looked at the crowd. His focused gaze swept the ring, then he climbed in with one lithe move.
Then his head turned, his gaze unerringly finding me in the crowd. Our eyes met.
Even across the distance, I felt the sheer force of his will.
He was fighting for me.
Anton shouted some more, yelling at the crowd.
Cole stood quietly, balanced and ready to fight.
“Let the fight begin!” The bell rang.
Cole turned and faced Anton.
Landon touched my arm. “It’s going to be fine. Watch.”
There were no warmup punches. Anton bellowed and charged at Cole. Cole met him, and the fight was on.
They traded hard blows. I didn’t look away. I heard the grunts, the thuds of knuckles on flesh. The feeling in the crowd was electric.
Anton kicked at Cole, who dodged, and rammed his fist into Anton’s side. The bigger man staggered.
Cole unleashed. He rained down hits and a few kicks on Anton. Soon, both men were covered in a sheen of sweat. One of Cole’s punches caught Anton in the mouth and blood splattered the floor of the ring.
My focus zeroed in on the fight. Nothing else existed except Cole.
This man who was fighting for me.
He was so powerful, moved so well. I clenched my hands together, giddy excitement twisting through me as I watched him pummel Anton. In days of old, he’d have been a warrior. Now, he was a man who still fought, still helped those he could, but for some reason, believed he wasn’t a good guy.
I watched him ram three hard punches into Anton. Bam. Bam. Bam.
