AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Meat was pacing inside the cage, seething with pent-up fury. Even from where Cora was standing, she could see his ego was taking a hit because the crowd kept cheering for Finn. Meat was probably used to getting all the glory, and he didn’t look like the type of person who embraced the spirit of sharing. It should’ve been a relief to see an actual expression on the man’s face, but it wasn’t. Cora much preferred his dead, lifeless eyes tothis. Right now he was tracking Finn’s movements like a great white shark, circling a wounded seal. Pale shoulders rippling, fists clenched, Meat emanated so much hungry, pent-up aggression, she wondered how Finn had the courage to jump into the ring. Didn’t he know the sharks were supposed to be on the outside of the cage?
But Finn didn’t seem concerned. He lithely pulled himself onto the platform and entered the cage like it was just another day at the office. Like he wasn’t chum in the water for the predator now circling him. Finn’s face was cold and unreadable, and Cora suddenly realized it was the same mask he used when he was in power-attorney mode. She’d thought he honed it in the courtroom over the years, but now she realized he must’ve perfected it for this.
It worked, because no one could guess what Finn was thinking. He circled the cage, as calm and cool as the eye of a storm, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck and arm muscles to warm up. Bouncing on his feet, he breathed deeply and stared Meat down with a look so devoid of feeling, Cora barely recognized him.
Meat began jeering and throwing insults at Finn, though it was impossible to hear over the noise. But Finn remained unfazed. If anything, he seemed bored.
Cora let out a harsh breath. Did he not realize he was about to get slaughtered? Granted, Finn was in spectacular shape. She’d never have guessed that underneath all the pristine suits and stiff, collared shirts, he was hiding the ripped figure of an Olympic swimmer. Suzette had once said Finn reminded her of an undercover superhero. Even then, Cora hadn’t given it much thought, but her friend hadn’t been wrong. Whatever Finn did in his spare time, it really worked for him.
Still. Meat was a ham-fisted giant puffed up on steroids, and he had at least seventy pounds on Finn. One swipe of his arm, and a regular man would go flying. The only way Finn could survive this fight was if he had a skeletal frame of adamantine and the retractable claws to match.
“Are...we...ready...to...rumble?” the announcer bellowed, drawing out the words with dramatic flair.
The crowd shouted its approval as a referee stepped in to talk to each of the fighters. Finn nodded. Meat spat an insult. Both men moved to their corners. Cora squeezed her eyes shut. A nightmare was about to play out in front of her, and there was nothing she could do.
A bell clanged.
Cora jerked and lost her footing. She stumbled off the stool. The crowd let out a battle cry of bloodthirsty glee. Dread churned in her stomach as she scrambled back on her perch. The fight was on.
Choking with anxiety, Cora watched the two men circling each other in the cage. “If Meat doesn’t kill you by the time this is over, Finley Walsh,” she vowed under her breath, “I will.”
Meat attacked first. He shot toward Finn and launched a massive right haymaker with enough power to end his life.
But the punch never landed.
As soon as Meat attacked, Finn jumped forward,intothe punch, without even appearing to wind up for it. He leaped toward Meat, clearing at least six feet. In one swift motion he’d moved from Meat’s center line to behind his right shoulder, somehow dodging the blow.
Cora’s mouth fell open. It was an impressive jump. No wonder they called him The Jackrabbit.
Landing lightly on his feet, Finn was already coiled for a right reverse punch. Grounded with a firm forward stance, his hips, torso and shoulders moved in perfect harmony to accelerate his fist toward Meat’s head. It all happened so fast. Meat’s arm was still fully extended toward his target that was no longer there. He had just enough time to turn his head to witness the blow that connected with his temple.
Meat collapsed to the floor, motionless.
For the first time since she’d arrived, the barn fell quiet.
In another powerful leap, Finn cleared himself to the other side of the ring. He bounced on his feet, fists clenched at his sides, waiting for whatever came next.
The referee was visibly stunned. He gaped down at the mountain of a man who had, until this night, been the undefeated champion.
Meat’s hands twitched, and he tried pushing to his feet in a feeble attempt to stand, but he couldn’t do it. The fight was over.
The referee snapped back to his senses and called it.
The crowd exploded, and the man on the microphone announced The Jackrabbit was the victor.
He won.Still perched on the crate, Cora slumped against the wall in relief. Her limbs felt weak and jittery, the way they did after a long session of rock climbing at the gym. She dropped her face into her shaking hands. Victory music blared from the rafters, and she peeked through her fingers at Finn.
He was leaning against the cage, facing the crowd with hands propped high. To Cora’s annoyance, he appeared much calmer than she felt.
People swarmed the cage, jumping to the beat of the victory music and screaming like banshees.
For one split second Finn’s mask slipped, and the corner of his mouth curved in a crooked smile.
And that was all it took. Cora’s anger spiked hot all over again. He had the audacity to smile atthem. The screaming mass of bloodthirsty animals who would’ve just as easily cheered for Meat, had Finn been beaten to a bloody pulp. These people didn’t care about the real Finn. They didn’t even know who he was. All they saw right now were dollar signs and the cage fighter who’d given them an evening’s entertainment.
Suddenly, a drunk biker in front of Cora careened into the wall, missing her by inches but taking another man out on his way down. She flung her hands back to steady herself, teetering on the crate. Within seconds the men were throwing punches and shoving into other people.
Like a domino effect, more people were drawn into the fighting, and the energy in the room shifted from drunken revelry to dangerous aggression.
