Page 28 of Hateful Games

Without preamble, the fight begins.

Both the players circle each other. Nova light on his feet as he toys with the other man, coming in close and then ducking at the last moment when Bryant attempts a punch him. He does it again and again, until his opponent’s patience snaps and he raises his hand to strike, giving Nova exactly what he wanted.

Nova dodges to the left, deflects, and delivers two quick punches. One to the face and the other to the gut. His speed like a ninja, that Bryant doesn’t even see it coming.

The cheers ring around as Bryant staggers on his feet. Whirling around with a roar, he attacks Nova, who isn’t even sweating and is still focused. A sharp glint darkens his gaze, revealing his true passion for the sport.

I finally realize why he’s indomitable.

The moment he entered, he was dominating the whole arena.

Among the sea of masses, the tension rises and so does the palpable hunger for blood and violence.

I’m not a fan of either but sports like this get my heart pumping. Watching him move lethally in the cage has me on the edge. I won’t lie that I might even be wishing to see Nova get hit in his smug face, once or twice. It will make my entire night.

Hell, the entire trip, worth it.

A group gets in front of me, obscuring my view, and just then the crowd roars. Pushing past them with all my might while they curse at me, I somehow manage to squeeze my way to the front.

“Oh fuck!” I gasp at the sight. I’m so close I could put my fingers through the small holes of the cage.

Nova has Bryant on the ground, holding him down with his arm wrapped around his neck in a headlock. His lips are pulled back in a snarl, eyes unbelievably dark. While his rival is struggling to get the upper hand, scratching Nova’s arms.

I can make out a little blood pouring out from the scratches.

Just then, a body slams into mine, followed by an angry voice. “Move out of my way, bitch.”

The worst thing happens.

Nova’s violent gaze collides with mine.

I stagger back when he blinks. Once. Twice. Before his gaze narrows into slits.

That one split second ruins everything. Because Bryant uses Nova’s momentary distraction against him by flipping him over. I yelp when he lands a punch square against Nova’s jaw. The hit causes his forehead to smash against the bars of the cage, causing a second gnash on his forehead.

Blood oozes from the cut in his lip as well as the one on his head.

Yet his expression is thunderous and locked on mine.

The angry dude behind me loses his patience when I stay rooted to the spot and takes ahold of my arm. He yanks so hard that I lose my balance and crash into people on my side. Pissed at the stranger’s audacity, all my defense classes kick in as I face him and twist his arm, about to knee him in the balls.

But one minute, he’s standing in front of me.

The next—he’s gone.

When I look down, he’s lying flat on the ground and passed the fuck out. I’m too stunned to react at what just happened when I take in the sudden quietness in the room. Everyone’s attention locked on me.

Sharply turning to my right, I raise my gaze at my savior and am about to pass out myself.

It’s none other than my six-foot-four beast of a fiancé breathing down on me.

While behind him, his opponent is being dragged out of the cage, unconscious.

When the fuck did he do that? And did he jump over the cage to get to me? And why won’t everyone stop looking at—

My world tilts as I’m thrown over a massive shoulder like a sack of potatoes. My hands clash against naked, sweaty, and warm skin as I’m carried away on Nova’s shoulder. Upside down, I can only hold on and pray he doesn’t drop me on my head.

Who the hell does he think he is? Meanwhile, the crowd parts for him like the Red Sea. Their amused and heated stares digging into my backside. Thank fuck I didn’t wear a skirt.

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