Page 22 of Klutch's Kryptonite

The referee calls both fighters to the center, gives them instructions I can’t hear, and then steps back. The bell rings.

What happens next is something I’ll never forget.

Dominator charges forward like a bull, clearly intending to use his size advantage to overwhelm Klutch. But Klutch is ready. He sidesteps with surprising speed, landing hard punches that snaps the bigger man’s bald head back. The crowd roars its approval.

I watch, entranced, as Klutch systematically obliterates his opponent. Every move is calculated and brutal. He doesn’t waste energy on flashy moves or unnecessary aggression. It’s like he’s watching and waiting, picking his shots with precision, targeting the same spots over and over.

“Get him!” I shout, unable to stop myself. I feel my cheeks warm when his eyes find me in the crowd before landing back on his opponent.

Real smooth, Demi.

The bell rings, ending the first round. Klutch prowls over to his corner where Beast, the enforcer I’d met briefly earlier, gives him water and wipes his face. I glance over to the other corner where Dominator is gulping air.

“He’s incredible, isn’t he?” McKenna appears beside me, her eyes also fixed on the cage.

“Yeah,” I breathe, unable to come up with something nonchalant to say. “I didn’t know he was a fighter.”

“Pee Wee says he’s one of the best. Undefeated in thirty-seven fights.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “How is that even possible? That other guy is huge.”

“Size isn’t everything,” she says with a smirk. “It’s how you use it.”

I elbow her in the ribs, but my retort is cut short by the bell signaling the start of round two.

This time, Dominator is more cautious, circling Klutch instead of charging in. They exchange hits, neither landing cleanly, until Klutch suddenly lunges forward. He drives his shoulder into Dominator’s middle, lifting the bigger man off his feet before slamming him to the canvas with a thunderous BAM that echoes through the arena.

“Holy shit,” I whisper as the crowd goes wild.

Klutch quickly takes the dominant position, raining down punches on his stunned opponent. Dominator tries to buck him off, but Klutch is like a man on a mission as he continues his assault.

And then just as suddenly as it all started, it’s over. Dominator stops moving, his arms falling limp at his sides. The referee jumps in, pulling Klutch off and waving his arms to signal the end of the fight.

Klutch stands, chest heaving, blood splattered across his torso. His eyes scan the crowd until they find mine, locking on with an intensity that makes my knees feel weak. Something possessive flashes in his gaze. A rush of wet floods between my thighs.

Holy shit.

“I need a beer.”

I spin around and smile at the man waving around a twenty dollar bill. “Coming right up.”

I make my way back to the bar and spot McKenna, apparently in the middle of an argument with Pee Wee.

“I’m not a child,” she’s saying, hands on her hips.

“Never said you were, baby,” Pee Wee replies, his voice calm but firm. “But it’s late, and the crowd gets rowdier after the main event. Time for you to head home.”

“But—“

“No buts. I’ve called you a car. It’s waiting outside.”

McKenna huffs but doesn’t argue further which surprises the hell out of me. She’s not one to back down from a fight. Especially with someone from the opposite sex.

She turns to me, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Apparently, I have a curfew now. Text me when you get home?”

“I will,” I promise, giving her a quick hug. “Be safe.”

“You too,” she whispers, squeezing me tight before releasing me. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

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