Page 89

“This is hardcore.” Metal looks impressed, and I’m glad he’s engaged for once, instead of just brooding or sulking.

“We should be in and out quickly,” I say under my breath. “I’ll get weighed, say a few words about looking forward to tonight, and then we’ll leave.”

The other fighters are all here, and Toby gives me a thumbs up before turning to the reporter talking to him. Garth is working the room, with Candy hanging on his arm, and I recognize a lot of faces, both from my fighting days and from the media. Everyone is smiling and taking pictures, making this into a big deal, which is a little confusing.

This is truly nothing more than an exhibition—so why all the fanfare? I suppose he wants people to get their money’s worth since tickets to the fights sold at a premium, from what I understand.

Grim has his eye on everything and I watch as his gaze settles on Garth, who’s now in what appears to be a heated conversation with Bronco.

“—fuck no, I won’t.” Bronco sounds pissed.

Something is going on and I can’t quite figure out⁠—

Out of nowhere it hits me.

Gambling.

This isn’t a sanctioned fight—but that doesn’t mean there isn’t money on the line behind the scenes.

Jesus.

If Garth is as broke as Luna says he is, and he has money riding on the outcome of all the fights—what the fuck have I signed up for?

Now it makes more sense.

The only question now is whether or not he expects me to win—or lose. I’m going to be pissed either way. If Bronco throws the fight because Garth is going to give him a cut of his winnings, that’s a dick move. And if he’s got something up his sleeve as a way to take me out, that’s not any better.

Luna was right to be worried about the finances.

I should have listened to her but it really doesn’t matter because no matter what Garth is up to, I don’t plan to lose.

That’s all there is to it.

I don’t care about his money issues, if he’s planning to start his own fight club, or what bets he’s made on the side. I’m going to do my good deed by helping earn money for cancer research, and then I’m going to go home, forget all about this shit, and talk to my girl about moving in together.

As we’ve been navigating work, sleepovers, and traveling back and forth to L.A., I realized I don’t like being away from her. Sometimes we’ll have no choice because of the job, but when we do, I want her next to me. Making coffee in the morning when I walk into the kitchen. Wearing one of my T-shirts that’s like a dress on her. Her soft body pressed against mine as we fall asleep.

I want her.

Period.

Baby or no baby, I don’t care as long as we’re together.

“Well, look who it is.” Bronco approaches us with an insincere smile and a snarky tone. He eyes Luna in a way that makes me want to throat punch him, but everyone is watching, undoubtedly expecting some kind of show—and I’m not going to give it to them. Fuck that and fuck this. There’s a reason I left this life, and now I remember exactly what it was.

“Hey, Bronco.” I hold out my hand, but he just looks at it and chuckles.

“We’re not friends, bro.”

“And I’m not your bro.” I arch a brow at him, and he just smirks.

“Gentlemen, let’s prepare for weigh-in.” Candy breezes between us with a smile. “Rage, Bronco—you’re the last fight, so you’ll be at the back of the line.”

I nod and look at Luna. “This shouldn’t take long. You can just hang out.”

“I’m fine.” She nods, and I lean in to kiss her.

“Aw, ain’t that sweet.” Bronco drawls, laughing in our direction.