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CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Enemy
BEAST
“Who’s that?” I ask, leaning against the bar as a tribal-tattooed, weather-beaten, built like a brick shithouse of a man steps inside the cage to challenge Noah, a fighter from one of the clubs up North. It’s Saturday night and the crowd is deafening, cheering and clapping and whistling as the two men face off.
“Malakai,” Kate replies, taking a sip of her sparkling water as she watches the two men circle each other.
“What the fuck kind of name is that?” I ask as Dom rings the bell, indicating the fight can start.
“What, as opposed to Beast?” she asks, a smile in her voice as the punters cheer when this Malakai dude lands a right hook to Noah’s cheek, knocking his head sideways and sending blood splattering across the canvas.
“You know what I mean. I’ve never heard of the fucker, and I tend to know all the good fighters out there.”
“He’s fairly new to the scene. Been around about six months. Whenever he’s fighting the punters go wild. He hasn’t lost a fight yet.”
“Is that so?” I mutter, paying even more attention now as he dodges Noah’s punches and lands a few well-placed ones of his own. It doesn’t take a genius to work out this guy is one of the better fighters. He’s light on his feet despite having a similar build to mine, powerful too given the punch he just landed has Noah staggering around the cage and shaking his head.
“He’s earned the club a great deal of money. The punters love him, and because of that I offered him a regular spot, but he only comes in to fight when he’s in need of cash. Last time he fought was a few weeks before you returned. According to Mark he’s repairing his boat.”
“Hisboat?” I question. “Why has he got a boat?”
“I’m guessing to sail on,” Kate replies with a shrug.
“No shit,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes at the guy who’s just landed an uppercut and sent Noah sprawling against the wire. “Have you done checks on him?”
“Same checks I do on any of the fighters who join the club. He hasn’t got a police record. No connections with any gangs or crime families. No family ties. He came up clean.”
“Hmm,” I reply, not convinced.
Kate angles her body towards mine. “What?” she asks, and for a moment I’m distracted by her fitted body top and light blue skinny jeans. She looks insanely hot tonight and I’m incredibly proud that this woman, no, thisqueen,is mine.
Forcing myself not to grab her and drag her back to her office for some alone time, I focus back on the fight unfolding in the ring. “So he just turned up at the club and wanted to fight?”
“Pretty much.”
“With a clean record?”
“Yep.” She frowns.
“And that doesn’t ring any alarm bells? No one who ends up at this club is clean. No one.”
“He’s never given me any reason to question him. He fights, takes his cut of the winnings and we don’t see him for weeks whilst he works on his boat.”
“Right.”
“It’s docked in a boatyard in Putney,” she explains.
“So you checked out his story?”
“What do you take me for? Of course I checked out his story. He uses his winnings to pay for the repairs on his boat. He doesn’t mix with anyone. Not the punters, nor the other fighters. As far as I can tell he’s a loner and likes it that way.”
“Interesting,” I muse, not convinced. “And he’s been hanging around for six months, yeah?”
“About that, yes. Why?”
“When he’s finished, I’d like to talk to him. Something doesn’t sit right with me.”
