Page 60 of Make Me Lie (Rich Demons of Darkwood 1)

"Let's get our fighters out here!" Jack screamed, and the lights began to flash a myriad of colors while Nine Inch Nails began to play. I couldn't help but shoot a glance at Cain, remembering the charged car ride.

Cain didn't seem to be walking down memory lane like I was though; he was listening to a story that one of the guys from the Sphinx was telling him. He threw his head back and chuckled at whatever was being said. I squinted my eyes and really studied him.

Did everyone else not see it? Did they not see how his movements almost looked...rehearsed. Like he’d mastered the perfect response that he was supposed to give in social situations, but he didn’t really mean it. The laugh had sounded right, and the relief in the other guy’s face who’d been telling the story certainly seemed like he’d bought it. But if you really studied Cain, you'd see that there was a blankness in his gaze. There always was. Cain was always just going through the motions. And I couldn't help but wonder, who really was Cain? What was actually going on in that head of his?

All my thoughts about Cain disappeared as smoke began to pour out onto the ring and Paxton appeared. I was sure that I was drooling, along with every other woman and perhaps every man in the room. I’d seen him in the dim lighting the other night, and he’d been shirtless on the yacht party from hell, but I hadn’t reallyseenhim, not like this.

I’d felt his body pressed against mine, felt his hardness, heard the beating of his heart, but nothing could have prepared me for the perfection in front of me. He exemplified the human form, every muscle was perfectly outlined. I know that they said an eight pack was impossible, but Paxton clearly had one. Part of me wanted to jump over the glass wall and see if he’d let me lick them. He was wearing a pair of black shorts that basically amounted to glorified boxer briefs. And even though he was wearing a cup, there was no missing how huge Paxton was.

Various girls in the room were screaming, "Fuck me, Paxton." "Have my babies, Pax!” “I want you!"

Paxton didn't seem to be affected by the adulation being thrown his way. He surveyed the room like he was bored, like he was doing everyone a favor by being present. Which let's face it, he was, since he was giving everyone a view of that body.

He looked up just then, and our gazes met. He held eye contact with me, uncomfortably, long enough that people started to look up into the glass box to see exactly at who or what he was staring. He raised his massive hand and pointed at me before finally breaking contact and turning his attention back to the ring where his opponent had just appeared.

Nervous butterflies took flight, knocking around my insides as I pondered what had just happened, and what he’d just meant by pointing at me.

"Working your way through the ranks?" Stellan said coldly from beside me and I looked at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"He just dedicated the fight to you. Are you really that unobservant?"

I kept my face blank, my cheeks thankfully getting the memo that now wasn't the time to blush. They were certainly testing my self-control, or maybe at this point Stellan had said so many mean things to me that I was becoming numb to it.

It was probably wishful thinking judging by the way my heart actually seemed to hurt from his cruelty.

I looked at Stellan wearily. When was he going to get tired of holding on to so much hate?

"Whatever you say, Stellan," I muttered, standing up from my seat and inching closer to the glass to make sure I didn't miss a thing. Stellan huffed and I heard him walk away. I realized then that I was setting myself up for something bad by hanging out over the glass if someone in the room decided to do harm me. I inched over to the wall so that I could see both the room and the fight, and was finally able to relax once I had everything in my sights.

Paxton's opponent was a beast. While Paxton’s form was lean and perfectly cut, his opponent looked like he'd been on steroids his whole life. He was so huge it was almost cartoonish. He looked like he could lift a semi-truck without breaking a sweat. The butterflies only intensified, and I hated myself that I was actually worried about Paxton.

The crowd was chanting both fighters’ names as Jack stepped to the side of the ring and raised his arm to signal the beginning of the fight. A bell clanged right as he lowered his hand, and Paxton's opponent immediately lunged toward him at full speed.

Paxton was faster and sharper, easily able to maneuver away from the guy’s punch while leveling one of his own. He reared back and kicked the guy right in the gut, darting away before the fighter could retaliate.

Paxton looked...beautiful out there. It was almost as if he was performing an elaborate dance.

He was incredible. I obviously knew a lot about fighting and it was clear that Paxton Jones was a star. Although I could tell that Kaplan would be pretty good against most opponents, he looked like a lumbering troll out there compared to Paxton’s movements. Paxton was cutting him down piece by piece, leveling hit after hit that continued to weaken and cripple Kaplan until he was a bleeding mess. Kaplan managed to get one hit in, striking Paxton right in the ribs, but Paxton didn't even flinch. In fact, the aftermath of the hit was the only time that Paxton didn't look bored during the whole fight. You could tell he’d savored that bite of pain, and I wondered if he hadn't let Kaplan hit him on purpose.

Cain was up against the glass, watching the fight closely, as was everyone else. The fight went on like that for what seemed like round after round. Paxton seemed to be toying with him, intentionally prolonging the fight. After the fifth round, it honestly seemed like a miracle that Kaplan was even standing. I wasn't sure how many brain cells he could still have after the last set of hits that Paxton had gotten in.

Cain leaned over the railing. "Finish him," he barked out in an authoritative voice that somehow cut through the noise of the crowd. Paxton clearly must've heard him, because all of a sudden he began leveling hits, faster and faster. Like a button had been pressed to push him into another level.

Kaplan began to sway in place, and I watched in lust-filled fascination as Paxton reared back and took him out with one last strike right to the nose. Blood splashed out all over the place, covering Paxton and setting my insides on fire. The announcer began to count down along with the crowd, and then it was done.

Paxton was the winner.

17

Aurora

Paxton held his hands up in the air, taking in the crowd’s gleeful praise.

"Come on," said Remington, gesturing to where everyone was walking out towards the celebration that was starting. I followed the excited line of people, Remington keeping close behind me, so close that I could feel his breath tickling against my skin.

I was tempted to throw an elbow, but I refrained.

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