31. Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Bexley
"O uch. That's going to leave a pretty, little mark."
The crowd simultaneously groans as one of our fighters smashes into the ground inside of the cage. It seems like Willowbrook brought their A-game tonight. We're down two-to-one, but Millie is up next so I'm confident we'll get a win.
As predicted, the pure white flooring didn't stay untarnished for long. Splatters of blood are already creating stains and decorative victories.
I'm using Steele's head to balance on the barricade. As more fights progress, the crowd becomes restless. Especially on a night like this when tensions are high.
After Mills' match, I'm up. And then the real party begins.
When Arch handed me the list of matchups, I had to do a double take when I saw Steele and Rylan's names together. I shouldn't care, but something tugs at my insides uncomfortably. Of course, I want Steele to win—but I can't move past that small fragment of… unknown emotion I feel about Rylan.
Steele seems awfully confident. I've already warned him to play it smart. This will not be an easy match for him. Despite my advice, he remains cocky, hand running up my bare leg and wrapping around my thigh.
I feel on edge myself. I'm doing my best to not think about tomorrow but my body is filled with nervous energy. Hearing the crowd grow more restless, it almost sends me over the edge. My empathy radar is at max capacity, and I want to blame the humid conditions in the warehouse for making sweat drip down my body. It's probably half true but it doesn't explain why my hands are shaking.
My eyes land on the side of the cage, spotting Mill crash through the door in record time. She's already bouncing like an energized bunny, eyes blown wide.
A tall, green-haired girl enters after her and immediately the two start checking each other out. I can see their mouths moving and judging by the way Millie's eyebrow cocks and a smirk appears, the Willowbrook fighter appears to be taunting her.
The bell rings through the room. I'm not sure why I expected more dancing and dodging, but Millie shoots across the cage, crash tackling the girl with force. Apparently, she wasn't expecting it either, and despite my fun-sized fiend lacking the weight advantage, the two of them smash into the ground.
Millie throws blow after blow into her opponent's face, swinging so fast that it feels like I'm watching a sped-up Tiktok. The crowd of people around the cage are unsure how to react, several of them pressing against the fencing to get a better look and shout jeers.
But it's obvious neither of the girls hear them—mainly because the green-haired girl passes out. I spot Arch rush into the cage bravely, tapping Millie's shoulder to grab her attention. Finally, she realizes and stops, blinking for a moment before jumping to her feet.
My eyebrows spring up high in disbelief. Even after unleashing all that power, she's still fucking energized . Talk about good stamina. Cardio makes me fight for my life.
"I better head over," I say to Steele, jumping off the barricade.
He nods, grinning at me. "See you on the other side, babe." When he presses his lips to mine, it takes me a few seconds to respond.
Our kissing has never been the sparks flying, feels like I'm floating kind of thing, but it was always enjoyable. Now, it feels like I'm tasting ash or bland mashed potatoes. The usual tingling is missing, and I pull back, forcing a smile. "Good luck," I offer awkwardly, doing my best to hide my strange reaction.
Pushing through the crowd, I arrive at the cage as Millie finally steps out. She grins at me, slamming her hand into mine with the hardest high-five possible.
"You did great," I smile, shaking my palm to clear some of the sting.
"Oh, my God. That felt so good. I need to find Parker," she gushes, disappearing into the crowd without a backwards glance.
Arch turns to me, fighting to find words. "Well, that was… something."
"At least we're two-all now."
He nods. "Go make it three," he says warmly, hand patting my back as I climb the two steps and head into the cage.
My eyes inspect the floor, amused at the sweat and blood. And then I'm flooded with images of Rylan's naked body pinned under mine.
Well, that's a little alarming at a time like this…
Thankfully, my opponent steps into the ring and distracts me. I'm actually pleasantly surprised to see she's as tall as me—not a very common trait I come across in my matches.
"Spencer," she greets coolly with a sharp nod.
"And you are?" I question politely. Good sportsmanship and all.
"Tamara Hamilton."
I nod, acknowledging her. "Ready?"
The two of us circle, waiting for the buzzer to kick us off. I've got my hair tied back in Dutch braids, while her brown hair is poised in a tight bun. Thankfully, she doesn't seem like the type to pull hair. Some opponents fight dirty, but she doesn't give that impression. Her glance is sharp, cool, and calculated—trying to get a read on me as much as I'm doing to her.
Excellent. A worthy opponent for once.
Neither of us move or strike when the signal to begin rings out. Our footsteps match perfectly, circling and sizing the other up. I try to focus on her movements to gauge and anticipate what's to come, but she hides it well.
I sense the watching eyes grow restless, the need for blood spurring on loud taunts and gestures. Finally, we collide in the middle of the cage, a flurry of hands and limbs striking. I manage to get a hook into her jaw at the same time as her fist hits my rib cage.
We don't come up for air, intensity only increasing as we exchange blow after blow. Blood trickles down my face from a cut above my brow. Wiping it away quickly, I land a kick to her outer thigh, pain ricocheting up my foot and calf from her firm muscles. Jesus—what are her legs made out of? Bricks?
Despite the pain in my foot, Tamara didn't walk away from the move freely either. She stumbles slightly, rocking the pressure to her other leg for a second. Then, she's back on me again, foot flying forward and connecting with my left quad.
Her aim is perfection. She's definitely had training or some type of martial arts background because the force sends me to the ground.
I know I need to move quickly, and I manage to roll onto my side as she jumps on top of me. I throw my hands up to protect my head as her blows rain down onto my skull. Spots are quickly appearing in my eyes, my surroundings shaking as I try to focus.
I'm not going down like this. I can't.
My shoulder nearly dislocates as I swing it up, curling around the back of her neck in a lame attempt to get her into a reverse choke hold. The move forces her weight into my side more and I try to bring my knee up, but she has them pinned down. My arm screams in pain but I swallow it back, tightening my hold around her neck until she has to roll off me to alleviate some of the pressure. I only have a few seconds to roll away, springing to my feet just as her body crash tackles into me.
The crowd behind us groans as we slam into the cage wall, the metal branding my back as I grip her shoulders to try to get her off me. A knee comes up, catching me in the lower stomach and a sickening feeling washes over me as I hunch over involuntarily.
Using the opportunity, Tamara throws a sharp jab at my face. My cheek explodes in pain as her knuckles bruise the skin.
My vision starts to swim. I know I'm in danger, and I'm suddenly faced with the realization that I'm outmatched. Maybe on a better day I'd have a chance, but even I can tell I'm lacking tonight.
Her fists pummel down on my head and I attempt to block them, waiting for either my body or mind to give out. But she pulls back to my surprise, grabbing my wrist and using it to fling me to the ground again.
Before I can contemplate her strategy, my stomach is flat against the ground, shoulder yanked back as she presses a knee into my lower back. Shit—she's trying to make me tap out. That's even worse. A knock-out is the ultimate prize normally, but against me? She's trying to make me give up.
It feels like the cage is shaking as people scream from both sides. Pain bursts through my body as I once again feel my shoulder threatening to dislocate.
Everything in my body and mind beg to make it stop, but I clench my teeth, fighting back the waves of agony. Squirming beneath her, I pathetically try to throw her weight off me but it's futile.
Her warm breath tickles my ear, surprising me. "Just tap out, Spencer. I don't want to hurt you."
Her tone startles me. There's nothing mocking or sinister about it—she's genuinely begging me to end this. We both know that I don't have a chance in hell at recovering, but my pride fights back, refusing.
Shaking my head, it's all I can give her. My jaw is locked, teeth nearly snapping as I clench hard in pain. She lets out a hiss, pulling my arm further behind my back. "Please—just tap out." Fresh pain rips through my body, my vision finally giving out as white light blocks everything out.
I'm on the verge of passing out, every fiber screaming, begging, pleading to end this. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I weigh up my options. I either tap out and admit defeat, walking out with my head held high. Or I black out, escaping the pain for a short while and lose my dignity.
And suddenly, realizing what both will do to my reputation, my shaking hand slides forward, gently tapping the ground three times.
Immediately, Tamara lets go, rolling off my body. Even without my arm being pulled back or her weight into my spine, I'm still in a world of pain. Except now, I also have to face the reality that I just lost.
It's a new feeling, and I fucking hate it.
A shadow rolls over my face, and I brave a glance toward it, seeing her concerned frown. Slowly, I push myself up, ignoring how my legs threaten to buckle.
She offers me a hand which I take, letting her help me.
"Good match," I murmur quietly.
Tamara nods sharply, dropping my hand once she's confident I'm able to stand on my own.
My eyes check the door, meeting Archie's. His are blown wide with horror and I make my way over, avoiding looking directly at anyone else.
He shoves the door open for me, offering his forearm as I carefully climb down the steps.
"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, wrapping an arm around my waist when I sway in response.
Suddenly, Parker appears on my other side, grabbing my arm.
"I'm fine," I tell them both, shrugging in an attempt to get them to let go.
"Help me get her to the rooms," Arch says to him, ignoring me.
The crowd parts as the three of us stumble through, the feeling of disappointment drowning me. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to look up, holding my head high as we weave our way through the Cedar bodies.
I try not to let it get to me. Many look devastated by the result, but to my surprise, everyone appears concerned. People try to offer well wishes of advice, saying I'll get her next time and asking if I'm okay. All I can do is nod, forcing a small, pained smile before reaching the rooms.
Away from prying eyes, I collapse onto the ground, Arch dropping to his knees beside me.
"What the hell happened?" Parker asks, shocked, from the doorway.
Neither of us answer him. Because truthfully, I don't have anything to offer.
And it's too hard to admit the truth.