Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Asher peeled off his long-sleeved black shirt and tightened the string of his black sweatpants. Socks and shoes off. He rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen up.
“Just so we’re clear, this doesn’t mean I’m okay with you and my sister.” Asher taped his hands, preparing to enter the octagon.
A smile touched Angelo’s face. “Got it.”
Thank God, his sister was working at her restaurant tonight. He needed to fight, but he wouldn’t have been able to get into the ring with Sarah’s eyes on him.
A memory of Jessica with the vest strapped to her body blew back to his mind like fire burning his skin. Eating at him.
Bruises. Waterboarding. A damn s-vest.
Inside the cage, he snapped his hands into fists and cracked his neck.
Egon. Samir.
If he had lost Jessica . . .
His opponent in the ring wasn’t big enough. Not tall enough. Asher could kill him.
He stared at the guy and lowered his arms to his sides, inviting him to swing.
The first punch was harder than he’d expected. A blow to his left cheek.
The pain felt good. Like penance for ever allowing Jessica to get hurt. For allowing Egon and Samir to get away.
He let another punch land beneath his chin. A swift uppercut.
The crowd cheered, and Asher focused on the fighter as he walked the perimeter of the cage, arrogance flowing. His dark blond cornrows tight, a too-soon smile of victory on his face.
A left hook touched Asher’s mouth next. The taste of blood on his tongue.
Good. Asher flicked his wrist for the guy to re-approach. He wanted to feel more pain. He needed it. He hadn’t realized that until now.
“What’s wrong?” Angelo asked after the first round ended, and Asher hadn’t even swung once. “You’re letting him get the drop on you.”
Asher took a swig of the water Angelo handed him.
“You come to get your ass whooped?” Angelo folded his arms, his eyes steady on him.
“I need someone bigger to fight,” Asher said after a beat. “This guy won’t be able to handle me.”
Angelo laughed. “He’s the one doing all the damage.”
Asher grumbled. “If I take him out right now, will you bring in someone else?” He didn’t want to murder the kid accidentally.
“Sure, if you think you can get your head back in the game.”
Asher smiled. “My head is right where it needs to be,” he said before the second round began.
Eight seconds in, Asher knocked the blond guy unconscious. He glanced to Angelo, standing outside the cage. “Now?” he mouthed.
Angelo laughed and held his palms in the air. “Okay. Okay.” He disappeared into the crowd and returned a few minutes later. He waited for the blond guy to be removed from the cage and then joined Asher in the ring. “You want to tell me what’s going on while we wait for the next fight?”
Asher spit out some blood. No mouth guard tonight. Probably a shit idea. He happened to like his teeth. “Nah, I don’t want to talk. Especially not with the man who is screwing my sister.”
Angelo glanced off to his right as the room began to fill with even more people. Word had gotten out Asher was in the ring. Plenty of people would be jonesing to fight him.
“I care about Sarah.” Angelo pressed his lips into a tight line for a moment, and gravity filled his dark eyes. “I love her.”
Asher lightly shook his head, unable to process his words. “Please, don’t tell me that.”
“You should know the truth.” He was quiet for a moment. “And Sarah’s worried about you. She said you disappeared from your mom’s place last Sunday, and she hasn’t been able to get ahold of you since.”
Yeah, I was diffusing bombs in Berlin and saving someone I care about. But he couldn’t lead with that. “I’ll call her later.”
“You owe her a lot more than a call.”
Asher fisted Angelo’s gray V-neck. “Don’t ever fucking tell me what I need to do, especially when it comes to my sister.”
Two jacked-up security guys entered the cage, but Angelo waved them off. “I get it.” He nodded, his eyes thinning. “But I’m not the same person you once knew.”
“You said as much.” He let go of him and edged back.
“I don’t run the crew anymore. I just run these fights, and hell, I pay taxes on what I make.” He pressed his palms down his shirt, smoothing it out. “I’d never do anything to hurt her. You need to believe me.”
Asher considered his words for a moment, but there was so much on his mind he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to handle anything else right now. Too damn much had happened in the last week.
“I just want to fight,” he found himself saying.
Angelo nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He flicked his wrist toward security and motioned for the next fighter to enter the cage.
The guy had a few inches on Asher’s height of six-four. He was beefier. Not so much muscle, though. But he was a tank, nevertheless. Exactly what Asher had wanted.
Images torched his mind. Memories from Berlin fueled his rage.
Every punch connected with Egon. With Samir.
Each time Asher pounded the fighter, all he could visualize was what he’d do when he found the cocksucker who thought it would be okay to go after Jessica.