“Three rounds. Five minutes each. When the bell rings, grab your sign, hold it up and walk your side of the cage and back twice. Got it?”
“I think so.”
“Guys in the crowd might try to cop a feel. If you’re not interested, just smack ’em.” She grins as if she’s looking forward to fighting off unwanted attention.
What was I thinking? I don’t belong here.
We step out onto the main floor and Sully pounces, gripping my arm and tugging me to the side. Myra, for some reason, tags along. She runs her hand over his shoulder and tilts her head in a sex-kittenish way I haven’t yet mastered. “Sully, Jake said you never come to the fights. How are you?”
He shrugs off her hand but gives her a polite smile. Jealousy flares inside me. Do they have history? He told me he didn’t date because of his daughter. Is Myra an exception to that rule?
I thought I’d buried that obsessive-crushing-teenager part of me a long time ago. Sully makes me crazy. Obviously.
“I’m good,” he answers. “How’ve you been?”
“Great. I’m showing Aubrey around tonight.” For the first time, she seems to notice how close Sully and I are standing and the possessive hold he has on my arm.
“Can you give us a minute, Myra?” he asks, although it’s really more of a demand than a question or suggestion.
“Sure.” She glances down at me. “Come find me when you’re done.”
She hesitates for another second or two, then sashays away, putting a lot of extra sway in her hips. The movement is lost on Sully who’s solely focused on me.
“You and fight-night-Barbie seem tight,” I blurt out.
His lips twitch, then his face settles into a much more serious expression. “You know why I’m here.”
“No, I don’t. Explain.”
His hold on my arm loosens and he takes my hand. Our fingers intertwine, and his thumb softly strokes my skin. “Things seem calm now, but these fights get out of control sometimes. I don’t want you caught up in anything bad.”
“Did you follow me?”
“I took a guess.” He cocks his head. “You’re a stubborn one.”
I lift my shoulders. “You told me you weren’t interested, so I don’t understand why you’re here.”
“Doesn’t mean I want you to get hurt.”
Ouch. I mean, I’m touched he wants to protect me. I didn’t need the reminder that he’s not interested in anything more.
“Besides,” he continues. “I never said I wasn’t interested. I said I had a lot on my plate.” He strokes the back of his hand over my cheek. “You deserve someone who can give you their full attention.”
“I—”
An ear-splitting buzz pierces the room, cutting off our conversation. Griff’s voice comes out of the loudspeaker. “Five minutes, everyone!”
“I better go.” I glance over my shoulder, seeking Myra in the crowd.
“Hey,” he says, tugging on my hand. “I’ll be right here watching out for you.”
“Aren’t you going to cheer for your brother?”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “And cheering for Jake, yeah.”
A ridiculous impulse seizes me, and I lean up, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Dating issue aside, I’m sure he had better things to do tonight than come watch over me. “Thanks, Sully.”
His hand closes over mine, pulling me closer. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me again.
“Be careful,” he says before setting me free.
Aubrey takes off into the crowd. Watching her hips and ass sway under that short, tight excuse for a dress, doesn’t kill my urge to chase her down and carry her out of here at all.
Unsanctioned, underground, whatever you want to call it, Griff and Remy’s operation is hardcore. The fights have very few rules. For the most part, the fighters who show up at the Castle are talented, but poor kids earning extra money to support their families. This isn’t a bunch of rich kids looking to show off muscles they earned with hours at the gym and few of them are here to piss-off mommy and daddy. Those types of fighters don’t last long here.
Aubrey’s polite but distant to anyone who approaches her. Every now and then she searches the room until she finds me. I nod and she smiles.
I’m so focused on her, I don’t notice Jake and Murphy approaching at first. The smirk on my brother’s face makes me want to sink my fist into it. “Come to wish me luck?” he asks.
“Christ, you’re needy tonight,” Murphy grumble-laughs. He holds out a hand to me and I slap it.
“Keeping my brother out of trouble?”
Murphy shakes his head, laughter turning the corners of his mouth up. “We both know that ain’t happening.” He slaps my back. “Good to see you.”
“How’d Aubrey end up here?” I ask Jake.
He scratches the back of his head. “Aubrey who?”
“Stop dicking around.”
“I don’t think she’s the sort of girl who likes to be told what to do.”
I lean in and lower my voice. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you with your hands all over her earlier.”
He shrugs off my comment. “You know why.”
“I specifically asked you to keep Griff away from her. We both know she doesn’t belong here.”
“Griff won’t let anything happen to her.” He flashes another impish grin that doesn’t dial back the urge to punch him one bit.
If anyone is looking out for Aubrey, it’s me.
“Who you fightin’ tonight?” I ask to change the subject since it’s only pissing me off. Now’s not the time to get into it with him. Not when he needs to concentrate on the fight ahead of him.
“Rowdy,” he answers, naming a loudmouth bodybuilder neither of us have a lot of respect for.
I snort and shake my head. “That’s not much of a match.”
“Aw, shucks. Thanks, bro.” Jake throws a light jab, knocking my shoulder.
Murphy cocks his head and strokes his chin. “That wasn’t exactly an endorsement of your skills, Jake,” he points out, barely keeping his own expression smirk-free.
I can’t help chuckling.
“Fuck off. Both of you,” Jake grumbles, flipping us off. He waves his arms in a circle, clearing the space around him. “You two are bad for my mindset.”
“When are you up?”
“Second, I think. Ruthless always goes last. Anyway,” he pats my back. “Thanks for the brotherly love, but I need to clear my head.”
He and Murphy take off and I search the room for Aubrey, finding her strutting in front of the ring with Myra. If anyone’s going to help Aubrey out tonight, at least it’s Myra. She doesn’t have a catty bone in her body. And while she might not appreciate all the times I’ve brushed her off in the past, I don’t think she’ll take it out on Aubrey.
Even though I doubt Aubrey knew underground fights existed before tonight, she does a good job working up the crowd in her section. No matter what she does, she seems to always give one-hundred percent. Something the workaholic in me admires a lot.
I glance around the wide open space. Haven’t been here in a long damn time. Learned to fight here myself. Back when this building was used for an entirely different purpose.
Fighters I haven’t seen in a while come over to shake hands. Ask if I’m betting on my brother tonight. A few hint that the bad blood between Jake and Rowdy could spark off a bigger fight outside the ring.
Knowing my brother, I can only imagine the underlying animosity has to do with a girl. Or, I should say, someone’s girl.
Murphy sticking close to Jake makes more sense now. I’m sort of surprised Wrath didn’t show up too.
But ultimately, Jake’s an adult and knows the risk involved in coming here tonight. If he wants to get his ass kicked, that’s his problem.
Aubrey’s a different matter.
Everyone in the place saw him with his arm around her earlier. Since it was his way to warn guys that she was off-limits, I won’t h
old it against him—not too much anyway. But it also paints a target on her curvy little body if things go south after Jake’s fight.
A few minutes later, Griff gets in the ring. He’s a showman and fires up the crowd before laying out the rules.
“No eye-gouging. No biting. Keep it civil. If I think you’re gonna do permanent damage, I end the match. If you ignore a warning or come at me—automatic three-month ban.”
The threat of a ban is new, and I can only imagine why Griff added it to the minimal rules. Even so, it’s better than most underground matches I’ve seen. The potential to get ugly still lingers.
Once the match starts, I slowly weave my way through the crowd and come up behind Aubrey.
Her shoulders jerk and she winces every time one of the guys take a hit. Neither of them are even good fighters. They punch and jab the air like it’s their first time out of their basement training ring.
“Not quite the same as self-defense class, is it?” I ask, leaning over to speak the words against her ear.
She jumps and turns. Her glossy lips pull into a relieved smile when she meets my eyes. “More violent, that’s for sure.”
“This is nothing.”
“It gets worse?”
“Tried to warn you.”