LILI
Nerves jittering inside me, I watched the fight. I could barely breathe.
These two had fought once before, just recently, and Anton had lost. He’d raged at my father about it and had been desperate for a rematch.
Please lose again.
I knew Cole was the better fighter.
I also knew he was dangerous. A sense of being able to handle anything just emanated from him. A sense that he could take on anything, and he’d fight to win.
But the few times I’d talked with him…he’d made me feel safe. Something inside me had known he wouldn’t hurt me.
It was silly. I really didn’t know him at all. I had no idea what he did outside the fight ring, but he was a man who knew how to take care of things.
My gaze roamed over Cole. He always wore simple, black shorts and wraps, nothing flashy. His chest was all hard muscle, but I noticed several scars and one tattoo. I’d spent a good deal of time studying that tattoo when he was fighting. It was atriangle with a snarling wolf inside. I bit my lip. He was built for power, but also for speed.
He had brown hair shades darker than my own, and a rugged, angular face. He’d broken his nose at some stage, but clearly didn’t care, and he had a terrible scar on his left cheek. I really wanted to know how he’d gotten it. Fascinating black ink also covered his right forearm.
I shifted on the platform, my hands clenched together.
Anton rushed at Cole. He was a loud, showy fighter. He wanted—no,needed—the crowd egging him on. Cole was the complete opposite. He was focused, and wasted no movement or energy on anything other than his hits.
Anton swung, but Cole dodged.
Cole got some solid blows in, and Anton jerked away. Cole followed, unrelenting.
The fight heated up. The crowd yelled and stomped their feet.
Cole smashed a fist into Anton’s jaw. The big man spat blood on the mats, and I heard my father bellowing at him.
They crashed together again. Cole pinned Anton to the ropes, ramming punches into him.
Anton sneered, shouting something. I couldn’t make out the taunt, but Cole stiffened.
That’s when Anton got a hit in.
He slammed one of his big fists into Cole’s side.
I winced. That could have cracked a rib. Anton was sloppy, but that didn’t make him any less powerful.
But Cole shoved off Anton, and gave no indication he was injured.
Anton jeered at the crowd, riling them up. I noted a crowd of women close to the ring, all cheering for Cole. One lifted up her top and flashed her bare breasts. There was an entire group who were obsessed with him. I’d seen fight groupies since I was young, and here in the warehouse, it wasn’t uncommon to seefighters fucking women in the shadowy halls. I’d never seen Cole with any, and the thought of him with some random woman in the crowd made my throat tighten.
I swallowed and looked back at the fight.
Cole’s next punch sent Anton back a step. I blinked. He hit Anton again and the bigger man doubled over. He spat something at Cole, no doubt trash talking.
Cole’s face was impassive, like it was carved from stone.
He advanced on Anton.
Anton fumbled with something. I saw the glint of metal and sucked in a breath. He’d slipped brass knuckles on his hand.
That cheating asshole. There were no rules, but brass knuckles were considered a sign you couldn’t win fair and square. The coward.
“Cole! Knuckles.” My shout was swallowed by the crowd.
