Page 56 of His Enforcer

“You made it!” he shouts, slapping me on the back. “You’re up next.”

He glances over at Viktor, his eyes sliding up and down his body. “You bring another fighter?”

“No, he’s here to watch. He’s a bit of a fan.”

“I’m not,” he grumbles, but I ignore him, turning my gaze out to the men in the ring, blood dripping from their mouths. It’s violent and unhinged, and Icraveit.

I started this up a year ago and haven’t looked back.

Anthony objects to it in his silent way, but he can’t stop me from attending.

I do whatever the fuck I want.

The crowd roars when one man topples over, his head knocking against the cement. Agro moves into the circle and lifts the other lilting man’s arm in the air as the crowd goes wild.

Adrenaline washes through me as a few men pull the knocked-out guy off the floor, blood in his wake, and then the announcer shouts out my fighting name, Mantus, and the name of my opponent.

Boulder.

A man much bigger than me. He comes lumbering out from the crowd and his arms flex. They’re as big as melons.

Fuck, this is gonna hurt.

Viktor’s fingers wrap around my wrist and shockwaves shoot up my arm at the touch.

“He’s going to murder you.”

Concern lines his words and all I can do is smirk at him.

He has no idea what I’m capable of.

The smell of blood filters through my nostrils as my head whips to the side, pain lancing through my cheek and mouth and down to my neck.

Fuck, Boulder got me good, I think as I stagger back, sweat marring my vision. He’s bigger than me and has an advantage, but he’s also slower. And I’m a mean fighter. Growing up the way I did, scrapping for everything I had after my parents and brothers died, boxing with Anthony when we became friends, joining the MMA gym—I know I’ll win this.

I’ll just be sore after, and very bloody.

I’m not getting any younger. Forties are no joke.

I swipe at my eyes and gather up my strength, my feet spread as I bend my knees and lift my arms.

Duck, punch, kick, my bones and tendons snapping as fleshmeets flesh. The man stumbles back, and I aim for his throat, trying to punch the air out of him, but he manages to fall to the right, making me hit nothing but the breeze.

The crowd jeers, and I spit blood onto the ground as Viktor catches my eye. He’s standing between two men, spittle flying from their mouths as they shout, their cheeks red, bills clutched in their hands.

Viktor’s jostled slightly and his eyes narrow at me.

He’s pissed.

I can’t help but wink at him, irritating him further.

His frown deepens, and I whip my head around, ducking just in time to avoid the blow Boulder is trying to land on me.

But even though he misses this time, he manages a few more hits, one right to my kidneys, the other to the side of my arm, and one well-placed kick to my knee. But then I’m able to launch myself onto his back and choke him out, my legs wrapped around his waist, my arm strangling him.

He falls to the floor with a thud, passed out, me on his back like some kind of avenging king riding into battle, and Agro moves toward me, lifting me from Boulder and holding my arm in the air as the crowd goes wild.

Viktor isnotone of them.

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