Vegas, Baby - Volume 3

Vince was getting redder and redder as his anger built. By the end of the round, he was bloodied and bruised, but I’d made sure not to hurt him so much that it ended the fight right then. He’d gotten in a few decent blows, but the bruises from those would be minimal. With the adrenaline flowing through me, I didn’t even feel them.

When the third round began, I was ready to unleash hell. But I didn’t put enough stock in Vince’s desperation, and while I was trying to keep my eye out for dirty and illegal tactics, being prepared for them was nearly impossible. I’d grabbed Vince in a clinch, and the next thing I knew, he’d headbutted me so fast, even I would have doubted it happened if I hadn’t felt the pain. I didn’t lose my footing, but my grip on him slackened just enough for him to break free and deliver a piledrive, “spiking” me on the head. The ref caught the second move and shouted a warning at Vince, who held up his hands and tried to look contrite.

I was done fucking around.

The round only lasted a few more minutes because that was all it took for me to beat the living shit out of my girl’s asshole brother. The ref and my manager had to rush into the ring to stop me from killing him. But I was too far ahead in points for the deductions that caused to keep me from being named the victor. Besides, the cable networks and the UFC shareholders overlooked a lot of shit if it boosted their ratings.

The press was already clamoring for interviews when I hopped down from the Octagon. The crowd kept me from going straight to my angel eyes, and I almost laid a few of them out when I saw her jump to her feet and take a few steps in her brother’s direction. I breathed easier when I saw Knox gently grasp her arm and say something that halted her steps.

“Saint! Saint!”

A million questions were being thrown at me, and I held up a hand, gaining immediate silence. “I’m giving you three minutes. Now, one at a time.”

I answered a few reporters about my reaction to Sam’s accident and who he was replaced with. When we neared the end of the three minutes, I thought maybe I’d gotten off easy. Then Porter Grange, who worked for Fighters Now, the biggest MMA magazine in the world, piped up. “I’ve never seen you go at an opponent that hard, Saint. You’re known for your control. Was Butler actually able to get under your skin?” He grinned, knowing his inquiry would irritate the fuck out of me.

“You should know what a dumbass question that is, Grange,” I sneered. Bobby surreptitiously yanked on my arm hair, causing me to swallow a wince. It was his way of silently warning me to watch my mouth.

“Okay,” Porter replied with a smirk. “If it wasn’t because you lost your cool, then why the calculated and unusually harsh beating?”

I knew Bobby would want me to play it off, to deflect and sway them to believe that I hadn’t acted out of character, that it only seemed harsh because Vince was a weakling, or that I’d had one too many sports drinks...what-the fuck-ever. The last thing he would want was exactly what I said.

“Because the motherfucker had it coming.”

4

Angelique

Watching Vince get creamed by Saint was difficult for me. Although I knew he more than deserved it, he was still my brother. I couldn’t help but remember the boy who’d played with me when I was little. How he’d made sure I got to school early for free breakfast and all the kids knew not to mess with me or they’d have to answer to him. But everything changed when I got to high school. It wasn’t my brother and me against the world anymore. He started to care about only one person—himself.

When the fight finally ended, I jumped to my feet and started toward Vince. I knew if I didn’t go check on him that he’d find a way to make me pay for it. My brother had grown into the kind of man who never forgot a perceived slight, even if it came from the sister he used to protect.

“I can’t let you do it,” Knox rumbled, gently grasping my arm to stop me. “You go over there to check on your brother, and Saint will lose what’s left of his mind. I wouldn’t put it past him to beat the shit out of your brother even more after they put him on the stretcher he’s already going to need to carry him out of here.”

With the head of the Lennox’s security holding me back, at least I had an excuse if my brother got the chance to confront me over it. And if Saint meant what he said, then maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about the threat to my safety anymore.