Page 1 of Clinch'd

Chapter 1

Minnie

“Here, sit here,” Lorri says, dropping into the seat with a moan.

Every guy in a ten-foot radius swings our way at the sexy sound and I bite my lip before the words tumble from my mouth. She’s never likedI told yousomuch, but she never listens to me, and tonight was no different.

Of course, I refused the four-inch heels, and my feet feel perfectly fine.

“Okay, so why are we here again?” I grumble, settling into my seat with a small sigh.

Unfortunately, Lorri tends to fixate on things. Last month she woke me from a dead sleep at five in the morning to peruse an ad on social media in which she was convinced if she applied, she would be the next top model or some shit.

When I told her to fuck off and rolled over to go back to sleep, the weighted silence was so thick I mentally sighed and got up. Afterwards she regaled me with all the particulars and although I hated the flighty idea, I admired the shine in her eyes.

It took less than a week before she forgot all about being a model and walked me through the particulars of turning over houses. As though we had the money, or the skill. Yeah, that one was a reach even for her.

Now it’s some big burly dude who will surely be her ticket out of the ghetto or at least our tiny ass apartment. Why?

Because she met him in a bar, and he fucked her in a bathroom stall. While I’m all for following your dreams, I think Lorri can’t always see past the rainbow to the fucking mountain you have to climb to get there.

I love my sister, I do. But her constant craving for adventure and a quick fix to what she perceives as her problems gets old even as I end up indulging in every single one. What can I say? I want her to follow her dreams. I just wish they were attainable. Like, I don’t know, holding down a job for more than a month.

I suppose this is my way of making up for what she’s lacked, a normal childhood but I think I’m failing because with each grandiose scheme that ends in failure she cycles through at a more dangerous low until I despair of her coming out the other side again.

But I don’t know what to do, I never did, and I’m stuck trying to make her see reality when she refuses to pull her head out of the sand.

“His name is Beast and he’s fuck hot,” she says with a gleam in her eyes.

“Excellent,” I say. I’d probably care more about this too but every dude she gets with is fuck hot.

No surprise, she’s gorgeous, with long legs, a slim waist, perky boobs, and bright blue eyes.

The only feature we share is our dark hair, except she dyed hers a platinum blonde color that accentuates her everything while I kept mine the cinnamon brown we were born with.

Lorri is the spitting image of our mom, right down to her siren smile. I’ve got my dad’s features, which generally leaves me looking the sad counterpart with my serious gray eyes, and perpetual frown.

She also inherited Mom’s impulsivity and incessant need to be the center of everything which often morphs into these risky sexual encounters. I guess I should be glad she hasn’t gotten knocked up—yet.

Lorri turns to me with a bright smile and the guy sitting behind us leans forward with a grin. “Hey, ladies.”

“Hey,” Lorri says but she doesn’t spare him a glance and neither do I. The constant adulation gets old and therefore the novelty has long since worn off. Wherever Lorri is, there’s a bevy of dudes right behind clamoring for her attention.

My thoughts are turned when the crowd stands with a roar. Curious, I stand too, watching as an announcer appears in the ring with a wide smile.

“Attention ladies and gentlemen! Tonight, you’ll have the distinct honor of watching two legends duke it out in the biggest baddest MMA fight of the year!”

Cheers erupt around me, and I glance around with a half-smile as men and women alike show their rabid love for the sport. I’m surprised by the number of women represented but I shouldn’t be because as soon as he introduces the first fighter all hell breaks loose and it’s a distinctly feminine chorus of shrieks.

With the amount of noise, I would’ve expected a boy band to emerge but no, the first guy to enter the ring is anything but.

“From the South Side of Morrison, weighing in at two-hundred pounds is Cooper Jackson!”

He steps inside the cage with a smile. He’s wearing nothing but a satin pair of knee length shorts and fuck me if he isn’t the most beautiful specimen of sheer muscle I’ve ever seen. His broad shoulders lead to strong arms covered in tattoos fromwrist to shoulder, cascading over his huge chest and six pack abdominals.

The gray tones of his ink swirl beautifully over his upper torso as he bounces on the toes of his feet and glances over the crowd. He has a beautiful head of black hair that curls around his ears.

His dark brows are lowered over a thin nose, high cheekbones and lips creased in a grim smile. Where his body is beauty wrapped in sin, his face is all angles and lines that pieced apart would be too harsh but put together create a devilish facade.

---