Chapter 39
CONAN
Song, Coming Undone, Korn.
Istride to my team. Keller’s already on me, wiping blood from my face.
I spit out my mouthguard and gulp water.
“You’re doing a good job, Con. Use that brute strength. He can’t take it. And those kicks? Beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I rub my jaw. “That fucking knee to the jaw hurt like a bitch.”
“Yeah, I bet. Don’t leave yourself open like that again.”
Before the bell rings, I glance at that beautiful girl in the front row.
“I need to finish him this round,” I tell Grayson.
“You know what to do.”
I nod.
For five minutes, I need to be the man I don’t want Hallie to see.
The faster I end this, the faster I get to my date.
“I’m on it.”
Grayson slaps my bicep.
“Not too far, Conan,” he warns.
“I’ll try.”
I head back to the center of the cage. Dan’s eyes lock with mine—cold, dark, smug.
“That your girl?” He smirks, glancing toward Hallie.
“Oh, I wouldn’t go there,” I hiss.
“I can. I’ll knock you clean out and take your girl. I bet her pussy tastes?—”
He doesn’t finish.
A clean uppercut shuts his mouth and drops him to the mat.
Seconds later, I’m on top of him.
The more he tries to fight, the harder I hit.
Fist after fist after fist.
I grab his throat. He gasps, flailing. His hits go weak.
I let go.
It’s not enough. I want him to hurt more.