Page 51 of Nothing To Lose
He winks at me before stepping away as the final round begins.
The bell rings.
"Here we go," Jimmy sings next to me.
The round starts similarly to the others, except this time Isaac doesn't try to dance away. The big guy lumbers up to him and punches him right in the middle of his face. A drop of blood falls to the floor. My eyes are stuck on it. On the feeling of knuckles cracking against the cartilage of my nose. Blood pouring out.
Something bumps me from behind, and I shake myself out of my head. I look up to find Isaac watching me. Waiting for me to come back to myself. The moment our eyes meet, I know he's waiting for me to signal that I'm alright. I give him a slight nod to get on with it already. He smirks and winks.
Then, in a succession of quick, brutal movements, Isaac has his opponent down, face-first on the mat. The referee rushes in.Knockout.
Isaac doesn't look anywhere but at me as the ref announces him as the winner. His smile is dangerous, and I feel the promise of it like fire under my skin.
I'm in so much trouble.
16
ISAAC
I insist on taking Tyler for the ice cream I’d promised when we left the house earlier this evening. It feels like a lot longer, but less than an hour has passed since Jimmy called. The rounds are quick, and I walked out with a thousand dollars in my pocket and Tyler’s big, hard cock pointing straight at me. That's a win-win if you ask me.
Considering how charged I tend to feel after a fight, I'm proud of myself for making it to the ice cream parlor without pulling over and throat fucking my poor, innocent Tyler. That would certainly be an advanced lesson, one that he may not be ready for. Then again, maybe he could throat fuck me. Maybe we can skip over a few chapters and I could sit on that big, thick cock of his.
Christ.
"What flavor did you get?" I ask, gesturing to his cone with my chin. I need to redirect my thoughts.
"Coconut salted caramel," he says. "Wanna try it?"
Setting my bowl aside, I take his cone from him. Instead of bringing it to my mouth, I hold it in front of his lips.
"Open," I tell him, and shudder a little as he does what I say.
He holds his tongue out, and I twirl the ice cream over the hot, pink surface. Then I lean forward and lick at the sweet treat before sucking his tongue into my mouth. He moans loud enough that I become aware of our surroundings. Several people are watching us with varying levels of astonishment, offense, and maybe some disgust. I'm sure it doesn’t help that my face looks like I let someone almost twice my size use it as a punching bag.
"Shit," Tyler curses to himself, looking down as his face flames.
I can't help but laugh and pull him up to stand so we can make a quick exit. "Sorry about that!" I yell over my shoulder. "The ice cream is just that good!"
It's freezing outside, but the cold air helps to sober me a little. We eat our ice cream on the walk back to my truck. Tyler asks me questions about how I got into fighting. The answer isn't very exciting. I was a troubled teen with no fear and a family to feed. Getting knocked around put decent money in my pockets, especially once I figured out how to play to the crowd. In some of the seedier fights, the show runners take bets throughout the fight. And who's going to bet on a kid that can't block a punch? I'd wait until the bets were in my favor, then unleash.
"When I was eighteen or nineteen, I fought this guy named Jax Keller and lost—spectacularly. After the fight, he followed me out. I thought for a moment that he was going to start some shit, because that happens sometimes—usually only after a win, though. But he approached me about what kind of training I had, which was none. I'd taken taekwondo as a kid, nothing serious. That was it. He offered to train me."
"That was nice of him."
"He didn't know it then, but Jax came around right when I needed it the most. The pressure of it all was getting to me. Jobs were hard to come by, and I wasn't making enough to make ends meet, much less get ahead. I started fighting out of desperation, and I was getting to a breaking point. Without him coming into my life when he did, I might have made some really bad choices. I'd be just another stereotype."
"Does he know that?"
"He did. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer a few years back, and I'd sit with him during his treatments sometimes. We got a lot of time to talk.That's also how the idea for the gym got started. We'd sit around and plan stuff like it was a real place."
"And now it is."
"Yeah. Almost."
"I bet he'd be proud."
"I hope so," I say, blinking back tears as I get all misty-eyed. It's not like I'm so macho I don't think men should cry or anything, but that's not the vibe I was going for tonight. I'm happy to talk about Jax and tell Tyler more about my life and learn about his, but I need to change the subject, because there's a very important topic I feel we need to discuss. One that can't wait any longer.
