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I grab my glass and knock down some Coke, needing the caffeine, and then place it on a table by the door as we head outside. To the right of the bar is a large square. It’s surrounded by what look like old stable blocks. I had wondered what this square is used for, and now I can see. There’s a big, roped off section in the middle, with crash mats laid down.
At least they have mats; maybe this isn’t going to be as bad as I thought.
I stiffen when I see Kirill make his way onto the mat. The sports master, Vladimir, nods once at Kirill. The crowd of students gathered around roars and claps.
Camile nudges me. “I think Kirill might just be the favorite, but with Louis as an opponent, it’s going to be a close call. The girls do love Louis.”
As soon as the second man steps into the ring, I recall him. It’s one of the dark-haired twins, from the group Camile called the Vipers. The cheers are just as loud for him as they were for Kirill, and I can see why. He’s a devastatingly handsome man. All dark hair and olive skin, with those astonishing blue eyes.
They’re both wearing sweatpants and a light cotton sweatshirt. I’m shocked when they whip their shirts off, leaving them both bare-chested.
I glance around me, wondering where the boxing gloves are. “Aren’t they gloving up?” I ask Camile.
She shakes her head. “No gloves, babe. Only rule is don’t kill your opponent. Although, that’s hard to police, and a few years ago, a student did get killed in the ring.”
My jaw drops with horror. People actually die in this thing, and it’s still going? How did it not come to a stop the moment someone got seriously hurt?
A second reason for my dismay slams into me.
Oh, good God. I might not know how I feel about Kirill, but I don’t want to see him dead.
Kirill tosses back his blond hair and flexes his neck and shoulders. He’s removed his nose ring, and I assume that’s so his opponent can’t rip it out. My gaze is glued to his muscles, but then I spot something else. White marks run crisscross over his tan skin. I pinch my eyebrows together. It takes me a moment to understand what I’m seeing.
His back is covered in scars.
A strange kind of fierce protectiveness rises inside me. I want to stride across the makeshift ring, grab him, and demand to know who did that to him. Are the scars from being in fights like this one? Maybe, but they look more like someone had taken a knife, or even a whip, to him.
The two men come together in the middle of the ring, bump fists, and then Vladimir rings a bell.
The crowd seems to hold its collective breath. Fists are raised, and the men begin to dance around one another. A girl shouts something at Kirill; I miss what and only hear his name. He glances over in her direction, and bam.
Louis’ fist slams into Kirill’s face.
Kirill stumbles and falls back a few steps, and I gasp.
This is going to be brutal.
Chapter 32
Kirill
Pain bursts behind my eyes and jaw as Louis smashes his left fist into the right side of my face.
Motherfucker. He’s going to fracture my cheekbone if I’m not careful. I stagger back a few steps and hear my father’s voice in my mind.
Don’t be distracted. Focus, son. The only person in this world who matters is the fucker in front of you.
Ignoring the pain, I raise my fists once more and dance around Louis. He’s faster than I am, more agile, but I’m bigger and stronger. I only need to get one good blow landed and he’ll go down. I’m a better kicker than he is, too. I trained in Muy Thai, so I kick as well as I hit. Louis, though, is one artful fucker on the fight mat. Catching him is the hardest thing, and avoiding his fast jabs requires focused concentration.
One half of the crowd is chanting my nickname: Kill-Kill-Kill-Kill…
Some might think that I’ve gained the nickname because it’s a shortening of my real name, but that’s not the truth at all. It’s because I’m a cold-hearted motherfucker who won’t hesitate to take out someone who is in my way.
Unluckily for me, my focus is shot. Dom wants rid of Mackenzie, and while I shouldn’t care, I don’t want her gone. I want that girl to stay around. I’ve had a taste, and now I want so much more. In fact, I want the three of us to take her, me last, so I get her full of cum.
Dom likes to think he’s the boss of us all because of who his father is, but we all come from powerful families. Sometimes it’s easier to sit back and let him get his way, but I’m not sure I can let this one slide.
Fuck. I shake my head. I can’t get distracted again. I’ve had plenty of pussy in my time, so I’m not sure what it is about Mackenzie that has me so turned around.
