AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Jesus Mother Mary Joseph, he is fucking hot, Kaya,” Chloe gushes into my ear. “You need to give that man your virginity. He deserves it. He’s such a good boy.”
I’m reminded that I haven’t told her about selling my virtue for a million dollars. But, if I tell her… my pride will ensure I follow through—not that I don’t want to.
My heart decides to ache at the same tempo as the building crowd. “He is beautiful,” I say over the screaming women and barking men, because she isn’t seeing the warm heart within that formidable wall of powerful, fierce muscles.
Mine.
The bell snaps me from my perving, and Xander and Davos collide, both unapologetic in getting close and bloody. Davos takes hits. Xander swerves. His fists as sharp as he is stunning. He anticipates, waits, and then he jabs freely, unhurried. It’s measured with him.
The hits he accepts are purposeful. Why would anyone want to receive the blows? It seems to fuel him. Drawing out the fight, he takes a few light hits for the dropped tenor of the horde. Then he delivers blows that launch his opponent backwards, sprays blood and paints canvas.
When the bell goes off, Xander’s brow is gushing crimson rivers. He howls, holding his arms out wide, flexing his muscles, and when the girls scream at the display, I brazenly join them.
Break time. Xander drops into the corner, where he guzzles down water, and his dad uses something to stop the blood from blanketing his eye.
It’s so quick. Then the bell causes him to leap to his feet again. Ducking. Dodging. Jabbing.Oh, God.Davos lands a fist against his wounded brow. That one was brutal. The blood and sweat coating his face, covering his eyes…
Can he even see?
Xander stills.
Takes another jab.
I. Stop. Breathing.
He sways for a moment, there is clear disorientation, and I’m waiting for him to drop to his knees, to fall, to end this, but he’s holding himself up on stubborn, unrelenting limbs.
Davos throws another punch to Xander’s forehead, the blood now everywhere—a crimson waterfall. A scene from a horror movie—Carrie at the prom. Still, Xander stays strong but takes more hits like a punching bag.
No. No.
“What’s happening here?” the presenter says, and I realise he’s been talking, narrating, all this time, but I couldn’t hear him above my own thunderous pulse.
I stand. I look at Xander’s dad with desperate intent. Will he help? Stop this?Can he?His dad is saying something from the sideline, his anger evident in curt gestures.
“He’s still standing!” the referee yells to him.
Then Xander rattles his head, coming too, and I’m not sure if that’s normal or not, but for a few seconds, I felt like something inside me was bruised. Something was being tortured. And I never want to feel it again.
He’s back with a start. My heart lunges with whiplash when he ducks in close to Davos with unexpected precision and drives his fist upwards, connects with his opponent’s jaw, and snaps it upwards.
That’s it.
It’s over.
Painting the ringside with blood from his mouth, Davos collapses, and the horde detonates.
The wall of spectators rises like a swelling ocean in an otherworldly sea, booming and clapping with uncompromising velocity. But I’m shaking, eyes locked on Xander as the referee raises his fist to signal his win.
His dad stands with his hands on his hips; the lack of celebration stirs inside me. Bronson, Max, and Clay are on their feet, staring at the reigning legend.
And Xander seems distracted, his gaze scanning the room, until it finds me and halts. I inhale harshly. He penetrates my core with that bloody stare, filling me with warning and excitement that isn’t reverent but turbulent.
Chloe gasps. “He’s looking right at you.”
I lick my lips. “I know.”
Tugging his fist from the man’s high grasp, Xander dips between the ropes and bounds from the stage, heading towards me. A sea of hands reaches out as he passes between rows of girls. They touch his body as he moves, sliding their fingers in his sweat and blood. The camera is on me now, the entire stadium watching our exchange.
