Page 83 of Regret

He shrugged. “Yes. But mostly no.”

“Well, that answer isn’t confusing at all.”

“Come on.”

The second he led her into the cellar, he felt her hesitate as she stared at what was taking place right in front of her.Chaos.

There was a big iron cage right in the middle of a screaming crowd of men and women shouting at the two men currently kicking and punching the shit out of each other.

“An underground fight club?” The look on her face wasn’t giving him anything. Nothing at all. Was she mad? Was she freaked out? Was she scared?

“Yeah.”

He wanted to say something more, but then he heard someone scream his name over the roar of the crowd.

“Hunter!”

He turned around and saw ninety percent of the crowd turn to look at him.

“Hunter is in the house, everyone!”

A big cheer and applause broke out, and Hunter grabbed Scarlet’s hand, gripping it tight.

She leaned closer into him. “Are you fighting tonight?” she whispered.

“Apparently, I am now.”

A crowd of suits came storming toward them, holding up vast amounts of cash in their hands. The fight that was currently happening in the cage was no longer of any importance. Everyone seemed like they were only interested in him and his fighting skills. Apparently, he’d made quite an impression the night before, and now everyone wanted more of him.

Fuck.There was no way he’d be walking out of this damn house without fighting. He looked down at Scarlet tightly squeezed against his side. “Stay by the corner of the ring.” He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders, wanting to cover her up more. Now he regretted bringing her here. These were all money hungry, arrogant bastards who got off seeing men beat the shit out of each other.

Of all the stupid ideas he’d ever had, this one was by far the motherfucker of stupid ideas.

Hunter pulled up a chair and made her sit. The crowd was cheering him on as the fight in the cage seemingly came to an abrupt end since one opponent was lying facedown on the floor with a pool of blood around his head.

Shit.He needed to remind himself to kick his own ass later.

Crouching down in front of Scarlet, he held a finger in front of her face. “Stay. Here.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“Stay.” He walked backward while keeping his gaze on hers, silently conveying the message that she should not even try to fucking move. “Stay.”

After pulling his shirt over his head, he walked into the cage and heard the click of the lock behind him. His opponent was already jumping up and down, psyching himself up for the fight. Normally, Hunter would do the same by cracking his neck and knuckles, stretching his arms and legs. But tonight he didn’t want to waste time. He wanted to get this fucking over with so he could get Scarlet the hell out of there. Well, that, and to go home so he could lose himself between her legs, make sure she couldn’t walk for days.

The second he heard the bell, he gave one last glance at Scarlet. Her eyes were pinned on him and she was clutching his jacket tight in front of her chest.

And then stars just exploded across his vision, his skull literally on fucking fire as his opponent caught him completely off guard.

“Hunter!” Scarlet jumped up and ran to the side of the cage. He wanted to yell at her to go sit the fuck down, but then he felt a hard kick in the side of his ribs.

“Fuck!” He cringed while clutching his gut.

“Hunter Keaton. You get out of there right now!” she ordered, slamming her fists against the bars of the cage.

Dammit.Hunter’s MO whenever he was in the cage was to take as much of a beating as he could before fighting back. To him, it wasn’t about winning. It wasn’t about dishing out a good ass kicking. It was about the pain, pushing his body and mind to the extreme. Maybe it was a kind of punishment. A way to feel like he was paying for all his mistakes. He needed it. Especially when his mind was running in overdrive, when all his regret would suddenly possess him full force. Getting his face punched in and his ribs cracked was the only way to silence the voices.

He was a masochist. A masochist who would always end up winning the battle anyway because the pain would end up making him stronger, wilder.

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