Things got ugly fast.
The air rang with the sound of flesh thudding flesh as Grant came at him with harsh, accurate strikes. Blood dripped from the enforcer’s nose, and his eyes were swelling and tearing, but he didn’t let those things hold him back.
Camden attacked hard, every move brutal and dirty. He rammed an elbow into Grant’s jaw. Smashed a fist into his already-sore ribs. Landed heavy blows to the side of his neck. Delivered a solid punch to his Adam’s apple.
They grunted, growled, and cursed. The bystanders heckled, booed, and yelled encouragements. His tiger snarled and lashed out, wanting his own pound of flesh.
The scents of blood and pain were heavy in the air. Seeing that pain etched into Grant’s face caused a familiar feeling to settle over Camden. It was like a combination of adrenaline and feel-good endorphins. The rush was a heady thing. It never got old. He felt exhilarated. Amped up. In control.
He barely felt the pain from Grant’s counterstrikes. And they were good counterstrikes. Fast and well-executed. So Camden did a lot of ducking and evading.
The enforcer also used his claws, raking and stabbing. Camden used his own, but he didn’t merely stab Grant. No, he curved his claws to hook the skin and then ripped open flesh, leaving long, deep, gaping slashes that bled like a bastard.
With a hiss, the enforcer swung his hips and kicked out his leg. Camden grunted as a foot slammed into his thigh so hard it went numb for a few moments.
Grant used the back of his hand to swipe at the blood leaking out of his nose, smearing it across his face. “You didn’t mention you’d had training.”
“You never asked.”
Grant notched up his chin. “You still won’t win this. It won’t matter if you do, though. It won’t change anything. She’ll still be mine. You could mark her with every tooth in your head. She’ll still belong to me.”
Camden’s tiger lunged with a roar. But Camden didn’t shift. Nor did he charge the asshole in front of him. He let a taunting smile curve one side of his mouth. “Those marks really grate on you, don’t they? Jealous you’re not wearing any of your own? You should have just said so.”
Aspen winced as Camden grabbed his opponent by the ear and bit into his face like a damn animal.
“I forgot how plain mean he could be,” said Havana.
“I didn’t,” said Bailey. “Hence the popcorn.” She spared Aspen a quick look. “And since it’s become clear that Grant was hoping to hurt you by hurting Camden, I am absolutely loving this.”
Much like the mamba, Aspen’s bearcat was thoroughly enjoying herself. Although Aspen did like to watch Camden fight, she still hated seeing him be hurt. She also hated that some primal part of her was a little turned-on by all that strength, power, and sheer ferociousness.
At first, Grant had laid into him like a man on a mission, but it wasn’t long before he eased back under the weight of Camden’s assault. The enforcer was now more about defense rather than offense, because Camden was dominating the duel with little effort. No one could claim otherwise.
The tiger snapped out his fists again and again, targeting each of Grant’s weak spots—his face, his jaw, his neck, his ribs, his stomach, even his broken nose. Each blow was savage. Powerful. Devastating.
She flinched as one blow snapped Grant’s collarbone. The guy’s arm dropped, limp and useless. That was when Camden seized Grant by the hair and yanked him down while bringing his knee up hard and ramming it into the enforcer’s groin.
Bailey let out a shocked chuckle. “Oh, feel the burn.”
Expelling a broken groan, Grant stumbled backward, his knees buckling. But Camden didn’t release him. No, he brought his knee up a second time, slamming it into the enforcer’s face.
Tate cringed. “Grant’s got to be regretting that he issued this challenge.”
“Probably,” said Aspen. “There’s a high chance he’ll think I’m not worth it after this. Fingers crossed.”
“His buddies are on edge,” Bailey observed. “I’m kind of hoping one of them jumps in.”
Havana snorted. “So that you’ll then have an excuse to jump in?”
The mamba gave an innocent shrug. “Watching people fight always gets my blood pumping. You know that.”
“What disturbs me most,” began James, “is that Camden isn’t doing all this because he’s lost his shit. No, this is as methodical as it is brutal.”
“Well he has a point to make,” said Bailey. “Knocking Grant clean out wouldn’t have gotten the message across in quite the same way. Plus, when there’s an instant knock-out, you always have people who say oh it was just a lucky punch. This way, both men get to fight, and Camden gets to show Grant who’s the strongest of the two.”
Luke’s brow creased. “You think Camden could have cleaned his clock if he’d wanted to?”