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“Remember what I said,” Duncan said, his eyes stern and demanding his full attention.
“I know. I won’t let him catch me off guard,” Ronan iterated.
His brother nodded. “Stick to the plan. Stay on your feet. Strike him good and then be done with him.”
On his way to the entrance of the fence, some idiot got in Ronan’s face and shouted, “Gazza’s goin’ to fuck you up!”
Ronan shoved the asshole out of his way and got behind Duncan as they weaved through the crowd.
They only let Ronan through the fence and Duncan traversed around the cage, joining their cousin Aiden, whom never missed Ronan’s fights.
A guy with black spiked hair locked the fence with an iron-chained padlock. Ronan barely contained his snort. Like that would hold him in. If he’d let his beast out tonight, nothing could stop him from bringing down this fence and causing havoc.
He glanced over at Gazza and gave him a respectful nod from one fighter to another. That was all the friendliness he was going to give—or receive.
Gazza’s outfit resembled Ronan’s. Black gym shorts over specialized black lycra tights above sneakers. Ronan wasn’t about to get road rash from this filthy concrete floor. They both left their chests bare so the other couldn’t grapple their shirt.
Ronan took in Gazza’s tattoos. In between the top of his gym shorts and his navel, Gazza had a tattoo of brass knuckles. And with the tip pointing up to his chin, an AK-47 was tattooed on his abdomen and chest. On his sides were all kinds of portraits and names that Ronan couldn’t make out.
The referee, also dressed in black except for the red ski mask covering his face, walked up to both men. Since there were no rounds or any rules, the only task the ref had was to keep both fighters alive by stepping in when a fighter went down.
The ref announced the start of the fight, and bloodthirsty roars from the crowd echoed through the warehouse as the fight begun.
Gazza immediately came after him—hard. Just like the connection of his fist to Ronan’s jaw was a hard hit.
Like a mantra, Ronan kept thinking about being the last man standing. It didn’t matter he got a kick to his spleen. It also didn’t matter he got another hard jab to his jaw.
What mattered was that he would be the last man standing.
He regained dominance in the fight by getting a high kick in that smashed Gazza’s head to the side. His hunger for victory never failed Ronan.
He was determined to enjoy every drop of blood tonight and every hint of pain. He would make them all see why he’s a legend in the cage. No fuckin’ doubt about it.
Gazza didn’t have the experience Ronan had, but he made up for it with his ruthlessness. Gazza stormed head first against his chest, but Ronan blocked the attack with all his strength.
Ronan knew that his calmness and focus would make him victorious. He pushed Gazza away with a knee kick and gave him another high kick as Gazza stumbled.
Adrenaline flooded his body when blood sprayed from Gazza’s nose. He needed to get in just a few more hits. And then he could go for the kill. Knock this guy the fuck out.
“I’m goin’ to end you.”
Ah. That’s the first thing Gazza said tonight.
The idiot didn’t realize how his stupid threat spurred Ronan on. Because now he knew he had Gazza in the bag. While Gazza cursed Ronan’s existence, Ronan took advantage by blindsiding him. An uppercut followed by a knee kick did the trick in bringing Gazza down.
Ronan used his forearm to put pressure on Gazza’s windpipe. He loved the irony of having Gazza in a chokehold. Even though Gazza’s struggles started out hefty, he knew it would only be a matter of time before the blood and oxygen would be cut off to Gazza’s brain.
The stubborn ass was about to pass out any second. The ref jumped in when Gazza didn’t tap to this well-executed choke. It relieved Ronan that he didn’t have to go on just to prove a point.
He got up from the ground and left Gazza heaving on the concrete. The crowd’s energy washed over him as they chanted his name.
With both arms in the air, his head fell back as he tipped his nose up. He closed his eyes while his racing heart drummed his ears and pushed out the excessive noise.
An image of Fianna’s dazzling smile entered his brain right after a memory of them rolling around in the hay. That day, six years ago at the Moore farm, was the last time they made love.
It was the last time he would ever make love to someone ever again. From that day out, he simply fucked to get off. And with all this adrenaline pumping through his system, he was about to do just that tonight.
Duncan slapped his back while Aiden brought him in for a side hug.
