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“Oh, nothing,” Juniper says.
“Later,” Loveless says in my ear. She gives me a pointed look, one that says I should be sorry for lying, and I shake my head a little guiltily.
A minute later, music I think I recognize from Rocky starts playing over the intercom, and everyone's attention is shifted to the ring, where two guys are now stretching. I try to feign interest, but all I can think about is Hunter. I wonder how much space stretches from my chair and the ring. Twenty yards? Fifteen? Could he see me from the fight? What if he gets hurt?
You can't care, I tell myself. He's not your boyfriend.
He's a guy who has sex with escorts and dates porn stars. A guy who has been nice to me a time or two. On a rational level, I know my feelings for him are about as realistic as a middle school girl’s crush on a pop star—and the chances of it being realized are pretty much the same, too.
But I have a bad gut feeling when I try to feel okay with the idea of him dating Priscilla. It’s her I should be worried about; I did see his hands around her neck. But when you look at Priscilla, you can see the bad in her. It's a woman thing, I think. Women convey so much without using words. Once you've seen one catty bitch, you've seen them all. And I know how to spot a catty bitch. Whatever Hunter is doing with her, she wants it, and what I really believe is that he does not.
The two men fighting first start to circle each other, and it’s a good distraction. As I watch the fight, I'm buoyed slightly by the other girls' enthusiasm. It only takes a second before word reaches my ear that the fighter with long black hair, Dominique Domino, is one of Marie V.'s clients. His opponent, a muscled guy with buzzed hair, is a porn star.
Loveless cups her hands around my ear. "But he also pays for Marie V."
I gape. "Why?” I say near her ear. I try to lower my voice while still being audible. “Can't he get all the booty he wants, like...on the job?"
She nods. "But he likes it kinky," she hisses. "He wants to keep his image clean, so he pays for Marie V. for the weird stuff.” I don’t even want to imagine what depraved acts could ruin a porn star’s reputation.
“I think he kind of likes her more than just professional," Loveless adds, and I arch my brows. "Oh."
She rolls her eyes. "That's a nice way of saying it."
I spend the rest of the fight wondering what she means, eventually deciding Marie V. is probably not a fan of Domino's affections.
The fight only lasts two more minutes before Domino clocks the porn star—hard—making his nose spray blood and gaining his title in a fit of screaming and applause, and Loveless leans in close to me. "He's the possessive kind. Marie V. will have to cut him soon."
I wonder how many of those types of situations working women find themselves in, and I think I’ll ask later. I'm feeling more comfortable with Loveless and Juniper now—more like we're friends. For not the first time, I wonder if I'm just a job to them, just like the men are, but I shove the thought away. If they think of me that way, it's not a bad thing. I don’t need to get too attached. Plus, it wouldn’t be fair to pretend to be friends when they don’t even know who I am.
Juniper passes me a huge tub of popcorn, smiling, and it's like a confirmation that I'm right. We are becoming friends. I don’t want to enjoy the feeling, but I let myself off the hook. It’s easier to face everything with friends, even ones that don’t know your real name. I feel truly at ease for the first time since I arrived at the ranch.
That feeling lasts through two more fights. Then Hunter walks to the ring.
Chapter Twenty-One
~HUNTER~
Lockwood is in the corner opposite mine, looking surly but not threatening in red shorts and black sneaks. He's shorter than I am—maybe five-foot-ten—and without clothes to give him bulk, I can see his upper body is well-defined but lean. His biceps and pecs are oiled and his black hair is slicked back, so his sunken cheeks and sharply square jaw stand out like a caricature. His wary brown eyes haven't left my body since I came into the ring, but I've noticed he doesn't like to look me in the eye. The crowd around us cheers, and he widens his legs, trying to adopt a more intimidating posture.
Fat chance.
I've got maybe forty pounds on this guy, four inches or so, and I hate him down to his bones. I think I’d kill him with my bare hands here and now, if I didn’t need him alive. I flex my hands inside my gloves and try to ignore the pain radiating from my back.
We’re announced, and then we step forward to tap gloves. I look into Lockwood's eyes, and for a second he looks into mine, and there’s plenty of hate there. I keep my expression cool, because I can't let him know that I know what he's up to.
Lockwood swipes at the air as he bounces back to his corner, and the crowd cheers with excitement. In addition to doing camera and security work for Priscilla, Michael Lockwood also fights semi-professionally—meaning he has fans.
The fight begins with the loud honk of a bullhorn and the crowd roars. He steps out of his corner first but he’s waiting for me to come at him.
I circle, looking for an opening. Of course, he doesn’t give me one, so I lower my guard. He takes a swing. I jump back. He gets me in the shoulder, a hard sting that sends pain across my back in waves, but I keep moving, arms up, ready when the moment comes.
He peeks up for a second, and I smack the bridge of his nose. It feels good. He swings, and I think it’s wild but he’s aiming for my back. He connects, and as the pain erupts I curse myself for not expecting that.
The crowd cheers when my fist hits his jaw, but he was already turning out of it. I get a kidney shot, and then he’s on me. He hits me on the shoulder, and, choking back a scream, I hit him in the head with my elbow.
He dances back, and I follow hard, thinking I’ve got him. I go for a knock-out punch, and he side-steps to evade. A hard jab to my stomach, then a blow to my jaw. Everything whirls. He gets me in the hip, he gets me in the ear. I think I see Libby in the audience, and that moment of hesitation earns me a glancing blow across my cheek.
I get him in the teeth, and he spits blood at me. I slam him again in the nose and he goes down on one knee. I kick him in the shoulder, I punch him in the neck.
