AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The commentator steps into the octagon, and the crowd hushes in anticipation. He introduces Harley’s opponent first, but I don’t hear a word of it. My attention is firmlyfixed on the dark-haired man and his now naked chest. My eyes drift to the lily tattoo on his left pec, and I remember the way he rubbed it absentmindedly when I told him my name. The same way I’m now rubbing the spot on my left wrist that holds my ink.
I tune back in just as the announcer is running through Harley’s stats.
Six foot three, one hundred and eighty-five pounds, zero wins, zero draws, zero losses.
My stomach is in my throat. A clean slate. I didn’t hear how many wins and losses his opponent has, but fighting your first fight must be a mental battle in itself. The announcer goes through the rules and rattles off some information about disciplines, then he exits while the referee steps up to the fighters. He says something, and they both nod. He steps away, and both fighters dance around each other, bouncing on their toes.
The first round only goes for five minutes, and it’s pretty even. Both fighters get in a few good hits. Harley may not have fought before, but he’s quick on his feet and has a powerful right kick.
The second round is much the same, although Harley executes an impressive three-step combination, finishing it with a vicious right kick that connects with his opponent’s left knee. The guy falls to the ground, but the round ends before Harley can follow up, and the referee steps in between the fighters.
Harley moves over to his trainers and takes a seat. I can see from across the room that his eyes are vacant as a youngguy in his mid-thirties attends to a cut above his right one. The older man is talking earnestly, obviously trying to give Harley pointers. I have no idea if he’s taking any of it in as he stares into nothingness, clenching and releasing his gloved fists, but the thirty-second break goes by far too quickly.
I sit up straighter in my chair as Harley strikes first, hitting his opponent square in the jaw. The other man takes two steps back from the force of the hit, a look of surprise flashing in his eyes. He shakes his head as if to clear it, and Harley takes advantage of his opponent’s momentary lack of focus and lands two consecutive kicks to the man’s upper thigh and knee.
The man collapses to the canvas again, and Harley follows, landing blow after blow to his head. After the fourth or fifth hit, the referee steps in to pull Harley away, and I notice that his opponent has not moved. The fight ends in a knockout in the third round.
At first, the crowd is too stunned to react. Then a roar goes up, and I climb to my feet, screaming and cheering with everyone else. Harley’s just won his first fight–and I was here to witness it.
My eyes are locked on Harley’s sweaty chest – more specifically, on the lily tattoo. Is it just a coincidence that the man who saved me that night has that exact design inked on him? Or is it fate that’s drawn us together?
He should be ecstatic that he won his first fight, but Harley stands there expressionless as the referee lifts his hand to declare him the winner by a knockout. His trainers crowd around him, grinning and shaking their heads–I don’tthink eventheyexpected him to win. He nods at something the older man says to him, and they make their way to the entrance of the octagon.
I hold my breath as he comes closer. For a moment, I think he’s just going to walk straight past me, and if that happens, I have no idea how I’m going to find him again in this crowd. But at the last second, he catches my eye and does a double-take.
“Lily?” he rasps, voice hoarse. He comes to an abrupt stop in front of me, the two men following almost crashing into him.
“Hey, Hercules.”
“What are you doing here?”
The older man behind Harley clears his throat. “We need to keep moving, son.”
Harley visibly flinches before cooling his features once more. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” I nod, but Harley still doesn’t move, his blue eyes studying my face. “Is everything okay?”
I drop my gaze, tugging on the hem of my jacket. “I’m fine.”
The old man clears his throat again, and Harley throws him an irritated glance before saying to me, “Don’t move.”
I drop into my seat as he walks away, my hand resting over my racing heart. The concern in his eyes was almost too much. I shouldn’t have come. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into with me.
I’m a liability. There’s nothing Declan wouldn’t do to get me back. Anyone I come into contact with is in danger. Mychest tightens, and I try to suck in a deep breath. I can’t have a panic attack here. I squeeze my hands tight, my manicured nails digging into my palms hard enough to hurt. The pain is good. It helps me focus.
The lights cut out again, and a Drake song gets the crowd worked into a frenzy. I make my decision and stand up, slipping through the masses to make my way to the exit. I’m almost there when someone grabs my arm, and I let out a pained yelp.
I clutch at my bruised arm, cowering as Harley steps in front of me. “What…” His voice trails off as his hands slip under my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. His brows narrow as he takes in the mottled yellow and purple decorating my arms. He tilts my chin up with his finger. His blue eyes seem to dive straight into my soul. “What the hell’s going on, Lily? You show up out of nowhere, covered in bruises, and you’re just going to leave without telling me why you’re here?”
“I shouldn’t have come.”
“But you did.”
“It was a mistake.”
His cool eyes study me carefully, and I try not to squirm under their weight. Can he see through my flawless make-up to the swelling across the bridge of my nose? “Come on,” he finally says, dropping my chin.
“What?” I ask in a daze. My skin still tingling from his touch.
“We’re getting out of here.”
