Niro (Henchmen MC Next Generation 1)

But he had to know there would be repercussions.

If nothing else, regardless of the outcome, Reign and Fallon would never let me fight here again. They would never let any of us fight here again.

Jax would lose someone who brought money in.

And he would rip an outlet from me that had been keeping me sane all these years.

What the hell was I going to do if I couldn't pound my fists into someone? If I didn't get the catharsis of the pain inflicted on me as well?

Those were problems for another time, though, as my gaze finally moved toward my opponent instead of Jax, instead of the crowd, and I saw who I was fighting clearly for the first time.

The guy who'd been chatting up Andi.

The guy who'd gotten one of those smiles she would never give me again.

I liked to fight. It was cathartic for me. Each time I felt a fist land, felt a bruise form, felt blood trickle, felt a bone crack, it pushed the old me deeper and deeper, further and further out of reach. Each time I inflicted pain, it reinforced the idea that I was too cold-hearted to feel any fucking thing anymore.

But I never got joy out of fighting.

That was a line I guess I never crossed.

The idea of knocking this fucker on his ass, though? Oh, yeah, that was bringing something akin to joy to my system right then.

Maybe my brotherhood should have been at the forefront of my mind.

But it wasn't my club I was thinking about when I was sizing up this bastard.

It was Andi.

In that white dress I'd never seen before that managed to be sweet and sexy all at once, that clung to the soft curves I knew I'd never get to touch, but his unworthy hands might.

My jaw was so tight that the bones felt brittle as I stood there, hands curling into fists.

Across from me, Toll seemed to sense the change, the shift, from something impersonal to something much more so.

The lightness that had been around him a moment ago fell away, revealing something underneath I hadn't anticipated. Something dark, something ugly. I recognized it. Because I often saw it in myself. And because of that familiarity, I knew how bad this was going to get. Because we both had something in on this fight. Me, and my demons. Toll, and his own. And we were going to take them out on each other.

We barely held off for the bell.

After that, it was a blur in the way all my fights were.

All that buried shit, it came up to the surface, demanded to get dealt with. And I did that with my fists, feet, knees, elbows.

Toll was an unknown opponent. I had no idea what to expect from him compared to the men I had been fighting for months or years.

He was heavier, bigger, but slower too.

So I used my speed advantage.

And I added my rage and jealousy and pain on top.

I don't know how long we went at each other. Time moved differently in a ring, somehow both fast and slow all at once. Pain was disorienting.

There was pain, too.

A lot of it.

Toll's wide fists landed just as many times as mine did. My left eye felt swollen already. My jaw was aching. There was a screaming at my side that said I would be nursing bruised—if not busted—ribs after the fight. Sweat and blood trickled down my face as my breathing got faster, shallow, as my muscles and knuckles started objecting to the efforts of a seemingly unending fight.

The world outside the ring was oddly muted out.

That was until the only voice I wanted to hear rang out.

Close to the ring.

Raised and borderline hysterical.

"They're going to kill each other!" Andi shrieked. She wasn't someone for raising her voice. I'd once watched one of her mom's rescues bite the shit out of her arm, holding on for dear life, blood flowing down her hand and onto the floor in big splashes, and she spoke in calm, soothing tones until her mom could get the animal off. She never got angry, never got involved in any sort of confrontation.

"Someone will get knocked out eventually," Jax's calm voice contrasted hers.

"Maybe permanently," Andi insisted, voice getting more desperate. "Unlock the cage at least," she pleaded.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Jax said, a shrug in his voice.

"How can you—" she started, but was cut off by Fallon's angry voice joining the conversation, asking him what the fuck he thought he was doing.

I saw Andi move. If I hadn't glanced over, I would have missed it much like Jax missed it, like Fallon missed it.

Her hand slipped into Jax's jacket pocket, fishing something out.

A fist landed to the side of my head, dragging my attention back to the fight as white sparks flashed across my vision, threatening that unconsciousness Jax had mentioned.