The bell rings at the start of the third round and Quake, my opponent, is already stumbling. Blood drips from the gash above his eye where the Vaseline isn’t holding up.His lashes drip with blood when he tries to blink it away but it’s no use.
Quake tries to sneak in an uppercut, and I dodge it, connecting my fist with the side of his jaw. His eyes roll back as his feet stumble, flooding my veins with adrenaline.
I thought I’d discovered the extent of my need for vengeance. But whatever revenge I took for Dad and Ellie pales in what I’m aching for now. Learning what happened to Lyla has me desperate to give her the closure she deserves.
And I’m going to get it for her.
Kane called me this morning after I finally climbed out of bed. Luckily, Lyla hopped in the shower, so she didn’t overhear any of our conversation. Someone left another threat at the clubhouse. A body part with a set of photos of Lyla sitting at the front desk at Twisted Roses.
They’re watching her in plain sight. And when I figure out who it is, I’m going to end them.
Quake steps to me again, but his eyes are hazy, and he doesn’t even flinch as I strike him a final time in the nose. He’s dead weight as he falls to the floor and the crowd erupts.
This used to feel better. Except right now, there’s only one thing that will. And that’s when the man standing beneath me is the one who hurt Lyla.
The crowd cheers and one of the new ring girls runs to my side as they announce me as the winner. She flips her dark ponytail and winks. But she’s not thetarot-card-reading goddess who’s cast a fucking spell on me, so I can’t even manage a forced smile back.
It’s like a switch has been flipped. The same one that turned when she walked away. It was how I protected myself from the fact that her absence destroyed me. But now she’s returned, she’s setting everything right again, and she’s all I want.
Paramedics move to Quake, and I make my way out of the ring before I’m forced into a conversation with the referee or the new ring girl.
Usually, I hang around these fights all night, chatting with the guys or betting on the next round. But right now, I’m not sure why I even showed up. I don’t need this. And nothing about it releases the tension.
“Solid hit, man.” Jude tosses me a towel as he walks up beside me and keeps my pace as we make our way through the crowd.
I nod, taking a drink of my water as we reach the edge of the room.
“No comments?”
“What do you expect?”
“I don’t know.” Jude shrugs. “But you’re the cocky asshole who doesn’t shut up if you take a guy out in the first round. What gives? You seem distracted.”
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head. “Shit with Kane.”
“Sage.” Jude plants his hand on my shoulder, stopping me when I try to turn toward the locker room. “You were there for me not too long ago. So you know if you need anything, I’m here for you.”
“I know. And I appreciate it.”
I do.
If it were a year ago, I’d probably have told Jude everything going on and involved him in this mess. There’s no one I trust to have my back like him. But now he’s got Fel, and he’s so fucking happy that I can’t risk my shit spilling over into his life. This is my mess, and I’m going to clean it up.
“Where’s your girl?” I change the subject.
“In the dressing room talking with Maren.”
“Not walking the ring for you?”
My comment gets me a glare that could cut glass.
“Fuck no.”
He’s pissed, but I’ll always be amused at how Fel continues to threaten walking the ring at one of his fights just to get under his skin. She did it once, even if it was an accident, and I’ve never seen Jude so brutal in the ring.
“Speaking of, where’s your girl?”
My girl.