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The ref, arms extended, barked orders—a bunch of bullshit about clean fighting. Meanwhile, an attendant made a show of checking me for concealed blades in my skintight briefs and hand wraps. Another was doing the same to Kole. They gave the green light and left the ring.
“Good luck, gentlemen,” the ref bellowed, dropping his arms.
Cocking my head to the side, I remained still. Kole paced the length of his side of the ring, never breaking eye contact.I’m not standing here like a little bitch!I took a purposeful step forward, molars grinding on the mouthpiece.
Kole darted forward. I threw my arms up and exposed my side. He struck. Bliss radiated from my side. I swept my leg out, pretending to catch him. While the crowd believed it, my opponent and I both knew it was pathetic.
I lunged, but Kole sprang around my back. There was an opening to strike, but I merely shrugged him off. He was smart. It was clear his strategy was to take me down quickly because he knew I could outlast him, taking his blows until he tired.
As I rounded on the wiry fucker, his leg came out of nowhere. The blast of his fury hit me in the neck and the side of my head. I wavered into the rope, trying to shake away the stars he’d unleashed.
That was when I heard it—her cry. I had to be imagining it.
Kole was on me, raining hits into my kidneys and ribs. Growling, I grabbed at the gnat. Catching his arm, I threw a left hook at his jaw. It was his turn to stumble away.
Instead of pursuing the advantage, I stole a second to scan the crowd. That haunting voice was too real to ignore.She can’t be here.Bri was at my house, in bed.... And then my heart stopped. There she was, standing next to my uncle and sister. Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t breathe.
“Behind you!” she screamed, gesturing.
I dropped at the last second, catching Kole in a rough kick. He fell but rolled to hit back. We were sprawling and grappling, a blur of arms and legs. Each blow he landed sated the devil in me. As the beast drank in his fill of pain, questions and strange feelings warred in my mind. Why was she here? What did this mean? Could I kiss her?
No. That last question had an obvious answer. I faltered, and Kole slipped away.
On hands and knees, I pushed to my feet. Too slow. Kole came back with a vengeance. A fist clipped my jaw, sending blood squirting over the mat. My lip would probably need a stitch. Through the roar, I heard my name.
Rising to my feet, I swung at Kole, sending him scrambling back to avoid the violence now crawling through my body.
“Finish him, Tor!”
Those three words from that beautiful mouth drove me home. I stalked forward. Light on his feet, Kole danced back and forth. I tracked the movement, judging the spot where he would go next, then plowed into him. I took him to the mat, slamming him in a vicious tackle that had his head smacking against the ring hard. I straddled him, pinning him down. He rained a series of hits to my torso, and there was the telltale crack of a rib. I grunted and clocked Kole across the face. He fell still.
Moving off his unconscious form, I winced as I prodded my rib. Not broken but fuck it hurt. It was exactly what I thought I’d needed. Only, as I pushed slowly to my feet, my gaze slid with deadly focus to a still figure in a sea of excitement. I never broke her gaze as I let the ref hold my hand high. The elation of victory never came, and when expectation allowed, I broke her gaze and moved to the ropes.
Nikolai thumped my back as I emerged.
“Shoes,” I demanded.
My cousin said something dumb. I pushed past him and went barefoot back to the dressing room. In the quiet of the hall, the silence grated. It screamed out I got what I came here for—but it wasn’t what I needed.
