Page 64
The bouncer, Umar, almost blew it when he saw me at the door. Luckily, Kenji had been standing slightly in front of me, so he didn’t see me give the man a small headshake. And the damn vault of a door I’d installed for Magomed’s fight venue covered the shit poker face the bouncer had.
That’s how I came to train with Zabit. I made a deal with Magomed. I’d do his security setup if he taught me how to fight properly. That had been years ago now.
The Four Families ruled the city, but a whole underbelly operated under their own rule and regime. This fight operation was an example of that. The Dagestanis took root in this part years ago, and with their fighting prowess, it only made sense that they’d run illegal fight nights. Magomed made fucking bank with his fighters. He had to give a cut of their profits to the mob since this was technically on their turf, but the Irish were cocky, and they assumed the Dagestanis weren’t making all that much.
The Callahans assumed their boxing fights owned the fight market. But who the fuck wanted to watch boxing when you could watch someone choke a fucker out?
Cornering Kenji felt a bit like a betrayal to my training partner, but Zabit would get over it. What was going to be interesting was when we met with Magomed. I pushed all of those thoughts out of my mind to focus on Kenji.
He quirked a dark brow when he walked toward me.
“I’m cornering you. Now focus. He’s got a fucking gas tank, so don’t tire yourself out. He can go the distance if he had to. But he usually doesn’t because he catches guys in a takedown and then mauls them. He favors the double leg, so you fucking stuff those. I hope your ground game is good. If you have a stand-up game, that’s even better, but the fucker is good at that too,” I said, attempting to info dump as much as I could before the ref called them to the middle.
Kenji’s face was so comical I wished I’d gotten a picture. Because he looked at me as if I had grown a second head. The ref called out before he got a chance to ask me how I knew all this.
“Gentlemen, to the center and touch hands.”
His face shut down, flipping from confused to a ruthless killer. The difference was so stark that it sent my heart racing. Something about the look he’d given me made me less nervous for him and more concerned for Zabit.
A ding rang out, signifying the start of the round, and everything disappeared other than these two predators circling each other. They felt each other out, throwing feints and testing their reach and reaction. Zabit got tired of waiting and threw a jab, but Kenji blocked it without a problem and sent one of his own. The move was a cover for the leg kick he was gearing up to throw. A giant grin spread across my face when it landed. Apparently, Kenji threw hard fucking kicks, because red bloomed across Zabit’s shin almost immediately.
The two circled again. The change put Kenji’s face in my eyesight right as Zabit made it through his defense and landed a punch to his jaw. My breath stuttered in my lungs. He should be able to take that hit with no problem, but it didn’t stop my nerves from crawling up my throat. The nerves turned into a simmering heat when his tongue swiped across the bloodied lip and he smiled. Crimson liquid leaked from a cut above his brow, but he looked hungry. He loved the violence, the same way I did. Seeing him bloodthirsty was turning me on, which was wildly inappropriate for his corner man.
Zabit threw out his own leg kick when his next combination was defended.
“Check the fuckin’ kicks, Kenji,” I yelled out, my face practically in the cage. There was a slight stutter in Zabit’s movements.
He knows I’m here now.
The crowd went wild as the two exchanged a flurry of punches and kicks, neither one really making much ground. They were an even fucking match, which meant Kenji was fucking good.
“He’s going for a double leg,” I yelled out so loud my throat felt hot with the effort. My voice was probably going to be shot after this.
I could spot Zabit’s setup instantly. He’d taught me everything I knew, and I ended up on my fucking back enough times from his takedowns that I was an expert on it.
Kenji must have heard me, because I watched the next moments happen in what felt like slow motion. He adjusted his stance, loading up his hips to power his next move. A cocky smile showed up on Kenji’s face as Zabit angled down and rushed forward right as Kenji threw his kick.
Dropped.
Zabit hit the mat with a thud that sounded like a gunshot.
KO from a fucking head kick.
I was losing my shit over it in excitement. The top of the cage bit into my stomach as I launched myself over, shouting let’s fucking go, like a maniac. Lips slammed on mine, and copper flooded my tastebuds as Kenji shoved his tongue inside. They slid past each other in a tangle of passion, our teeth knocking as we fought for dominance. It was like we were trying to consume one another. Bloody hands wrapped in my hair, and he touched my forehead with his.
“You fucking gem of a woman.” His mouth found mine again. The onslaught of kisses made me dizzy. “You’re so much more than you let on, aren’t you?” he asked as he was tugged off the cage to stand in the middle for the winning announcement.
“And new, Kenji the Reaper Jirocho.”
It was a fitting fucking name for him.
The second the announcement was over, Zabit gunned his way to me. “Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” he asked jokingly. But the bragging I had ready for him went out the window when Kenji shoved him against the metal of the cage.
“Watch the way you fucking talk to her because I was being nice in there. I’ll permanently put you in the ground if you disrespect her,” he whispered menacingly, red tinged spit landing on the fighter’s chest.
Horrification would’ve been the appropriate reaction to Kenji’s outburst, but instead, my leggings were fucking soaked by the show of possessiveness and aggression.
Zabit’s hands came up in surrender at the threat. “Hey, man, no disrespect. And no offense, but if I disrespected Scar, she’d put me in the ground herself. She wouldn’t need you to do it for her.”
