Page 12 of Fighting the Darkness

“Why couldn’t you fight anymore?” I wince, realizing she might not want to share that. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry, and I certainly don’t know much about fighting, but it doesn’t seem like age is always that important. Not that you’re old. Shit. I’m just going to stop talking now.”

“You’re fine, Freya.” Quinn laughs. “I’m in my 50s, and my body isn’t what it used to be, so even if I hadn’t been injured, I don’t think I’d still be fighting. MMA is hard on the body, and injuries are par for the course, but some are worse than others. My back was injured in a fight, an illegal move. Once I recovered, the doctors told me I could fight again, but I’d be running the risk of being paralyzed for the rest of my life if I did so. All it would take is one more hard hit or falling wrong, and I’d be done. I might love fighting, but I also prefer to be able to walk.”

“Wow. I knew MMA could be dangerous, but I guess I never really thought it could be that bad.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry you had to make that choice.”

Quinn nods. “We might be an underground fight club, but we try to keep things as safe as we can here. But one bad hit could kill someone. Especially if that’s what the other fighter is aiming for. It’s why MMA fighters go through so much training.”

I hum, realizing that one of the fights has ended and new fighters are climbing into one of the cages. “Wait. You let women fight men?”

“We do when they request it.” Quinn laughs, nodding to the female fighter. “That’s Nikita. She’s good enough to go pro, but it’s not what she wants. She loves fighting, but she loves being a lawyer more. She does this for stress relief, or so she tells me. I think she just enjoys beating the shit out of people. We don’t have a lot of female fighters wanting to fight regularly. She’s already fought all of them and beat them enough times that none of them wants to fight her anymore. Not all the male fighters will fight her, but she can hold her own with most of the ones who will.

“I couldn’t pair her against Wilder or Soren. They’re two of the top fighters. They’re actually the main event tonight, so you’ll get to see them in action. She might one day be good enough to fight them, but for now, she has to stick to the men with lower skill levels. But when she thinks she’s ready, I’ll ask them if they’re willing to fight her. I know Soren won’t mind. He doesn’t believe that gender determines the skill but the work they put in.”

I wrinkle my nose at the mention of Wilder. “Why does he have to be one of the best fighters? He’s such a jerk. Why couldn’t he just suck?”

Quinn laughs. “You’ll have to specify which one you mean because that could apply to either of them.”

“Oh, um, Wilder. He wasn’t happy to see me here tonight. He tried to demand that I go home.”

“And I see that went well for him.” Quinn lifts a perfectly arched eyebrow.

I snort. “No, it did not. He spends forever acting like I don’t exist and like I don’t matter, but as soon as I set foot in here, he’s worried something will happen to me. Whatever. He’s a dick.”

“Not everyone can have a sparkling personality like Freyr,” she says with a laugh.

“Or any at all. Obviously, I know Wilder—though I’ve never seen him fight. But I don’t know Soren,” I say, hoping she’ll take the change of topic. I’d really rather not think about Wilder right now, let alone talk about him. All it does is piss me off thinking about the way he’d treated me.

“Soren is a few years older than Wilder—closer to a decade older probably. He’s a damn good fighter. He almost went pro, but had a medical condition that wouldn’t allow him to join the UFC.”

“But you let him fight here?”

Quinn nods. “I make him sign waivers, and it’s not that he’s incapable of fighting. His condition could cause an issue, and the UFC isn’t willing to take those chances. As someone who used to fight, I know what it’s like to be told you can’t any longer. I know him well enough to know that he won’t fight if he can’t.”

I hum, my eyes darting back to the fight between Nikita and the man whose name I never learned. What Quinn says makes sense, and I open my mouth to tell her that, but find myself drawn into watching the fight once more. I can’t seem to look away as Nikita lands blow after blow against her opponent with both her hands and her feet. She moves so much faster than he does and is obviously using that to her advantage. She works what looks like magic to me, and then she’s got him in a choke hold so he’s forced to tap out. I jump to my feet, applauding her along with others.

I can’t seem to wipe the smile off my face as I drop back into my chair, finding Quinn grinning back at me. “Like that, did you?”

I nod. “I did. She kicked ass. I wish I could kick ass like that.”

“Nothing is really stopping you from learning, you know.” Quinn cocks a brow.

Huh. I hadn’t really thought of that. Is this something I want to learn to do? I honestly don’t know.

“Okay, so tell me more about this big fight tonight.”

Quinn chuckles. “Okay. We always get a big crowd when Soren and Wilder fight. This is nothing compared to what it’ll look like in an hour. Their rivalry draws them in. Their fights are more brutal than any of the others. If people want violence, they know they’ll get it when they fight.”

“Rivalry?”

“Yeah, I have no idea why, but the two of them have never gotten along. It always made me laugh because Freyr and Soren got along like two peas in a pod, but once Wilder joined the mix, it was a no go.” She shakes her head. “But your brother never let that affect his friendships with the two of them. He made sure he made time for both of them. Freyr was a good one.”

“Yes, he was.” My words are distracted as my eyes are drawn to another fight that’s just started. This one is between two men. I find myself gripping the arms of the chair and biting my lip as I watch their feet and fists fly. Adrenaline courses through me, and I wonder what it would be like to be the one fighting. If I love watching it this much, how much would I love actually doing it?

Once the fight is over, I turn to Quinn with wide eyes. “How does one go about learning MMA?”

“Think you might like to give it a try?”

I shrug, not wanting to seem too excited by the idea. Something tells me that learning the sport that my brother loved so much could make me feel closer to him when I’m missing him. Though, for all I know, I could suck at it or hate it.

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