Page 21 of Duke
He chuckles low and dirty, nodding his head toward each as he explains who they are. “Royal’s on the left. Beckham on the right. They’ve been known to fight on occasion, too.”
So, my assumption was correct. These brutal boys of SIN could probably chew up and spit out other fighters. They throw off lethal vibes. My gaze lands on Royal, sizing him up—dirty-blond tousled hair, ridiculously handsome features, and an air of superiority. My lips twist.Royal.I bet no one calls that oneRoywithout paying for it.
Just then, he takes a few steps back from the cage and turns to a girl sitting there. He whispers something in her ear, and the next thing I know, her hand flies out and she smacks him. From here, it almost looks like he’s laughing.
Duke huffs out a laugh at my expression, following the path of my eyes. “Yeah. Don’t be fooled. He’s pretty, but he’s fuckin’ mean as a snake. And Beckham—that guy will tell you to your face he’s a lover, not a fighter, then turn around and knock you on your ass. Steer clear.”
Mason, Duke, and I make our way over to the opposite side of the ring from all the commotion. Bear ambles over to us, though he hasn’t seen me yet because I’m purposely standing behind the guys. They slap hands with him as he passes them, a tight, let’s-get-this-done smile on his face, but his eyes bug out when he spies me, his expression morphing into one of wide-eyed surprise. He gives me a heart-stopping grin, scooping me against his bare chest. “What are you doing out here?” He may not be showing fear on his face, but it’s coming through in his voice.
I whisper urgently, “I told you, I’m here for you. I’m not scared.” I turn my head upward and, stretching onto my tiptoes, touch my lips to his shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“I will be no matter what… because you’re here.” He lets me go, blows out a breath, and nods—almost like he’s trying to convince himself of it. The announcer has begun to build toward Bear’s introduction, raising his hands and getting the crowd going. I’m trying to hold in my worry, but I fear this fight is on a collision course with disaster.
“And now, let’s welcome our undefeated champion, an absolute terror in the ring… Let’s hear it for Bear Pierce!” His voice booms the name, and it makes my heart jump in my chest.
Bear steps inside the cage, lifting his left arm and waving at the crowd. He walks around the ring like he owns the place. Some would say because of who his dad is, he kinda does own it. But fuck that. I say he’s fucking earned every bit of the respect he’s given.
We cheer ringside, fingers gripping the metal cage, then Duke and Mason guide me back to an area close by to watch.
My stomach flips with distaste as Sparkle Pants herself, and one other big-breasted girl in a similar flashy outfit, each raise a Round One sign and strut their stuff around the cage, shaking their asses and smiling. It’s for the crowd, yes, but their main focus is definitely the fighters in the ring. They wink and wave and push out their breasts that are strung up in these incredibly revealing bikini tops.
My normal reaction would beYou do you, honey,but all of it makes me want to hurl when I imagine Morgan visiting Bear to help with his cooldown routine. Her face morphs into a nasty sneer just for me when she deigns to look my way before it brightens up into her dazzling cage-girl grin once again for the rest of the cheering crowd.
Mason tips his head near mine. “Don’t look now, but Tristan seems very interested that you’re here. Derek too. They’re behind us.”
And despite Mason’s warning, I do look. I take in the smug expression on Tristan’s bearded face and the leering one on Derek’s. As I watch, Morgan finishes her duties as cage girl and comes over to sit in the chair between them, a nasty smile twitching to her lips when she spots me observing them. Tristan’s brow raises the slightest fraction as his loathsome gaze travels over me, sending anxiety snaking down my spine. Arrogant fucking dick. He can kiss my ass. I dare him to try something with me tonight.
TWELVE
BEAR
Oh.Fuck. No. My father has his lecherous eyes all over Lennon… and her stepfather is seriously no better, which is fuckin’ disturbing. I’d noticed weirdness emanating from him every time he’s around her, but I was chalking it up to his frustration with her and all her sleep issues. But… no. In fact, despite Morgan sitting between them like a sparkly piece of eye candy, they’re both watching Lennon’s every goddamn move. I have an awful feeling that if we were to leave her unattended, things would go south quickly.
“Fighters ready? I want a clean fight. Touch gloves.”
Fucking hell. My attention jerks back to my opponent, and I step forward, purposely extending my right hand to Wild Man so I don’t immediately make him curious. He knows that I’m a righty, so it’d be a dead giveaway to give him my left. I roll my eyes at myself, knowing wholeheartedly that it won’t be long before he grasps I’m not fighting quite the way he expects me to. No doubt any fighter out there worth his salt has studied the way I approach a fight, so it’ll be odd if Wilder doesn’t catch on. I’m going to be relying on my left arm as much as possible and try to get him to the mat as quickly as I fucking can. I’m bigger than he is. Possibly stronger. But this one is so creative with his fighting, it’s hard to say what he’ll try to pull on me from his bag of tricks. And I’m not myself tonight.
I’m in no shape to handle shenanigans, and Wilder will, no doubt, pull out all the stops. I lift my gloved hands in a defensive stance as the bell beginning the round sounds, and we start to circle each other.
He steps in relatively quickly, taking a jab at me, which I sidestep. I’ve gotta play this just fucking right or I’m in real trouble. He dances around a bit and before he can steady himself, I jab with my left. Fuck, I’m in trouble anyway, but the look on his face when I clip him on the chin is one first of shock then of confusion. He wasn’t expecting that. Good.
While I have him thrown, I come in close and we collide. Grappling for dominance, spinning around, grunts and groans of exertion fill the air as we each attempt to take the other down.
It’s too much. I can’t work him the way I want to because of the searing fire raging in my shoulder. We lock together as he studies me while the crowd goes nuts.Shit.He knows something’s up. I shoot him a small smirk, then push him off me, disengaging. It may have looked good to the cheering crowd, but I don’t know how I’m going to finish this fight.
Wilder grins around his mouthpiece, and it’s like he’s baring his teeth, taunting me as he watches every move I make… and every fucking move I don’t. Dude has a crazed look in his eyes, like he can sense I’m injured and is prepared to take full advantage. I don’t like it.
But I’m not going to give up so easily. Drawing in one ragged breath after another, I figure there’s only one way to do this. I’ve got to go on the attack. And I have to do it now before I’m in worse trouble than I already am. Catch him by surprise again.
Fuck it.I step in with a lightning-fast one-two jab cross combo that has the crowd on its feet. Sweat begins to roll off me, not so much from the exertion of it all, but from the pain in my shoulder. I blink hard, backing up as Wilder comes at me to trade a few more punches. He catches me on the cheekbone, and I retaliate by smacking my fist into the hard wall of his abdomen. It doesn’t faze him more than a second, and my attempt to hook his leg and take him down to the mat is thwarted when he grabs my arm and yanks. Angry flames lick through my body, the burning sensation intense, and I wrench myself away, breathing hard.
My eyes shift for a split second to where Duke, Mason, and Lennon are sitting on the edges of their seats. Lennon’s lip is clamped securely between her teeth, and they’re practically coming out of their skin, worry slashed across all three faces. But I can’t take on any of their concerns right now, I have enough of my own. My gaze flicks back to the cocky combatant before me, and I wait for whatever he’s going to attempt next and hope I can manage to hold him off. I’m struggling more with every agonizing second that passes.
Wilder squints at me, tilting his head, then comes at my right side with a vengeance, like he senses now where my weak spot is. Sweat continues to pour off me. I force myself to see nothing but my opponent. I can’t fuckin’ afford one misstep.
I grit my teeth and keep going, throwing a right at his jaw. He takes it, then laughs. We circle, and a moment later, he slams his fist into my arm, high on my bicep. The injured one. I see stars, the pain is so goddamn blinding, I’m fearful for a second that it might make me pass out.
And the next second, none of that matters anyway as his left fist collides with the side of my head. I fall to my knees, dazed stupid.
