Page 3 of The Fight

Now, he nods before turning on his heel to leave. “Oh, and Blair?” he throws over his shoulder. “This crowd isn’t here for a beauty pageant. They want blood. Keep that in mind.” With that, he’s gone.

CHAPTER THREE

SHAY

As I round the corner away from the men’s locker room, the ring comes into view, and my hands start to flex. Other than the fight itself, this is my favorite part.

As I creep toward the ring, my brain starts to shut out the noise around me. Cheers and boos turn into nothing more than muffled static. My heartbeat throbs in a steady, strong rhythm. The constantwhoosh,whoosh,whooshisa calming melody in my head.

As I make it to the outskirts, I take a quick look around me. A few familiar faces, Austin’s included, poke out in the crowd, along with a few new ones. The ref stands on one side, while the announcer and ring girl are on the other. I clock her tight ass in little red shorts first, then drag my eyes up her body before landing on her face.

Normally, Hannah is front and center on Thursday nights, but this chick is different. Her skin is pale—almost an anomaly since we’re in Florida—but her body is banging. Not too toned but filled out enough for a few decent handfuls. Her eyes are piercing too. A deep, rich green like mangrove leaves, with a halo of gold around them. Her auburn hair is long, damn neartouching the top of her ass, with soft waves my fingers would love to tangle in.

Her eyes catch mine, and instead of looking away like most people do, she cocks a brow. It’s like she’s challenging me, asking what the fuck I’m looking at silently, and God does that make my dick twitch.

The announcer’s voice slices through her stare, making her break her eyes from mine. Quickly, as he gives another rundown of me and my opponent, she reaches for the card with a number one on it. It looks so big in her hands, but she maneuvers it with ease, holding it to her chest as she steps up to the ring and folds herself in between the ropes.

Her hips sway as she holds the card high and makes a lap around the canvas. The light directly in the center shines onto her hair, making it look like flames on top of her head. I’m so focused on her I don’t even think to give my opponent a look until she comes out of the ring and I step in.

He’s all muscle, standing in the corner opposite of me. He jabs the air, bouncing up and down lightly on his feet. He’s about my height, but his shoulders are bigger. His head is close-shaved, and sweat glistens off it. I would imagine bricks in his hands wouldn’t stand a chance, but I’m not impressed. Size doesn’t matter here, only skill.

Stepping forward once the announcer is done with yet another spiel, I hear the ref’s voice take over, but I can’t make out his words or even his face next to me. I’m too focused on the brick shit house in front of me. He extends his fist, a gesture of goodwill, but I don’t bump it. I couldn’t give a fuck less about pleasantries. I’m only here to fight.

A second later, the bell rings, cutting through all the other noise like a gunshot. My muscles tense, getting ready for whatever impact may be coming, and time almost slows down. Ol’ shit house throws the first punch—a quick jab at my face—and I know we aren’t even going to last three rounds. He’s fucking predictable.

Ducking under his fist, I counter and send a hook into his ribs. Muscle and bone flex under my knuckles with a satisfying thud. He grunts but doesn’t back down.Typical. Extending his hand again for another hit, he leaves his face open.Perfect fucking shot. I keep my left hand in front of my chin, moving just enough to evade his incoming punch, then push my right one out, letting it connect with his jaw.

He’s stunned for maybe three seconds, but that’s all I need.Body,ribs,head.Body,ribs,head. I repeat the mantra in my mind over and over as my knuckles hit every spot. His arms graze me, and at one point, he even gets in a few body shots, but I never slow.

The thing about me? Ineverstop. Once something is in my mind, I’m going to fucking do it. And tonight, this guy just happens to be something. It’s one of the reasons I’m a force to be reckoned with in the ring. While others may have me topped in size and sometimes even strength, what they don’t have is fucking speed. Big bodies take more energy to move, so guys like ol’ shit house here tire quickly and move slowly.

I don’t even realize how sucked into the fight I am until the bell sounds out again, and I move back to my corner. My eyes are still on the guy across from me, his nose and lips now bloody, but whenshemoves in front of me to make her lap around the ring, I let myself get lost in the sway of her hips again.

Austin is in my ear, whispering some shit about how my opponent is about to go down, but I can’t even comprehend his words fully. I’m too engrossed with this chick’s ass. It’s not like me to be so distracted, but fuck. Maybe the sooner I can get this dude on the mat, the sooner I can get this girl on her back. Pretty good motivation for me.

When she exits the ring, I spring back to the center, more ready than ever to end this fight. Ref taps us both, and then the bell rings again. I don’t even give the guy a chance to throw any punches this time—not first anyway. I send double jabs right into his stomach, then kick my leg out to connect with his calf.

He does his best to dodge me, but he’s moving too slowly. A few more kicks to his legs, and he crumples to his knees. His fists bite into my thighs, but I don’t let it distract me. I push through the sting and throw one last punch as he tries to stand.

His huge frame falls backward, his head bouncing off the mat, blood oozing from every orifice.Fucking KO.

I give it a second, letting the ref slide down beside him before I celebrate the victory I know is mine. When his hand slaps the mat, I turn toward the crowd and grin. Austin’s eyes catch mine, and he tips his head, silently motioning what we already knew—dude wouldn’t last.

The crowd cheers, the announcer starts spouting off a quick recap, and all of my opponent’s team starts to fill the ring. I take that as my cue to leave. This isn’t my first win, so there is no need to stick around for all of the congratulations. Austin is better at that shit than me.

I try to slip away as undetected as possible. Not a hard feat, considering most people wouldn’t even dare stand in my way after what they’d just witnessed. But I guess the new ring girl isn’t most people.

As I climb out from in between the ropes, she doesn’t even bother to move. Her eyes are stuck somewhere behind me, not even paying attention. I nudge past her, letting my shoulder ram into hers.Come on, Dollface. Follow me. I know you want to.

“Watch it, asshole,” she spits behind me, and it makes me smile.

The thing with girls is they’re predictable too. Act like you don’t want them, and they’ll want you. Unavailable anduninterested is like a fucking beacon in the night to them. She may have called me an asshole, but I saw her eyes following me throughout the entire fight. She wants me, and something tells me she doesn’t want to admit that.

“Did you hear me?”

My smile grows, but I don’t turn around. Instead, I keep moving toward the locker room. It’s too loud to tell if she’s following me or not, but I’m not one of the best fighters on the coast because I can’t pick things up. The thing is, sometimes I read peopletoo well. I guess that’s what happens when you’re forced to sit, mind your manners, and listen. You pick up tells, signs. All the things people don’t even realize they do.

Like the ring girl. My eyes might not have been on her the entire time, but in those brief seconds they were, I noticed she was tapping her fingers on her thigh. A nervous tic, maybe, or even a sign of boredom. I’m not sure yet, but I’m positive I’ll figure it out.

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