Lili
Nerves jittering inside me, I watched the fight. I could barely breathe.
These two had fought once before, just recently, and Anton had lost. He’d raged at my father about it and had been desperate for a rematch.
Please lose again.
I knew Cole was the better fighter.
I also knew he was dangerous. A sense of being able to handle anything just emanated from him. A sense that he could take on anything, and he’d fight to win.
But the few times I’d talked with him…he’d made me feel safe. Something inside me had known he wouldn’t hurt me.
It was silly. I really didn’t know him at all. I had no idea what he did outside the fight ring, but he was a man who knew how to take care of things.
My gaze roamed over Cole. He always wore simple, black shorts and wraps, nothing flashy.
His chest was all hard muscle, but I noticed several scars and one tattoo.
I’d spent a good deal of time studying that tattoo when he was fighting.
It was a triangle with a snarling wolf inside.
I bit my lip. He was built for power, but also for speed.
He had brown hair shades darker than my own, and a rugged, angular face. He’d broken his nose at some stage, but clearly didn’t care, and he had a terrible scar on his left cheek. I really wanted to know how he’d gotten it. Fascinating black ink also covered his right forearm.
I shifted on the platform, my hands clenched together.
Anton rushed at Cole. He was a loud, showy fighter. He wanted—no, needed—the crowd egging him on. Cole was the complete opposite. He was focused, and wasted no movement or energy on anything other than his hits.
Anton swung, but Cole dodged.
Cole got some solid blows in, and Anton jerked away. Cole followed, unrelenting.
The fight heated up. The crowd yelled and stomped their feet.
Cole smashed a fist into Anton’s jaw. The big man spat blood on the mats, and I heard my father bellowing at him.
They crashed together again. Cole pinned Anton to the ropes, ramming punches into him.
Anton sneered, shouting something. I couldn’t make out the taunt, but Cole stiffened.
That’s when Anton got a hit in.
He slammed one of his big fists into Cole’s side.
I winced. That could have cracked a rib. Anton was sloppy, but that didn’t make him any less powerful.
But Cole shoved off Anton, and gave no indication he was injured.
Anton jeered at the crowd, riling them up.
I noted a crowd of women close to the ring, all cheering for Cole.
One lifted up her top and flashed her bare breasts.
There was an entire group who were obsessed with him.
I’d seen fight groupies since I was young, and here in the warehouse, it wasn’t uncommon to see fighters fucking women in the shadowy halls.
I’d never seen Cole with any, and the thought of him with some random woman in the crowd made my throat tighten.
I swallowed and looked back at the fight.
Cole’s next punch sent Anton back a step. I blinked. He hit Anton again and the bigger man doubled over. He spat something at Cole, no doubt trash talking.
Cole’s face was impassive, like it was carved from stone.
He advanced on Anton.
Anton fumbled with something. I saw the glint of metal and sucked in a breath. He’d slipped brass knuckles on his hand.
That cheating asshole. There were no rules, but brass knuckles were considered a sign you couldn’t win fair and square. The coward.
“Cole! Knuckles.” My shout was swallowed by the crowd.
But he must have heard something because his head whipped my way for the barest second. I clenched my fist and touched my knuckles.
When he looked back at Anton, I hoped he got my message.
Anton swung, but Cole moved so fast I gasped. He was like liquid.
He spun around his opponent, out of reach of those deadly brass knuckles. When he landed his next punch, I sucked in a breath, and realized that he’d been holding back.
And now, he wanted this fight done.
Cole unleashed. More blood splattered the mats. Anton tried to get a few hits in but failed. He lifted his fists to shield his face, but Cole just continued. He hit Anton’s gut, side, face.
I risked a glance at my dad. His craggy features were twisted in fury.
I felt a little spurt of glee. I glanced up at Goodyear’s private box. I hoped he was raging.
Cole kept at Anton. I let myself feel it—rising hope.
Another brutal punch, and Anton went down to his knees. Cole rammed a knee into his face, and Anton’s limp body smacked to the mats.
“Annnnnd, that’s it, ladies and gentlemen. Our winner is the Wolf!”
The spectators screamed and cheered.
Cole spun and strode toward me. My heart hammered against my ribs. His gaze was locked on me, and he wasted no time shoving out of the ropes.
“Looks like our winner is eager to claim his prize.” The announcer chuckled.
Cole reached me. He had blood smeared on his arm and I hoped it wasn’t his. His chest gleamed with sweat. He held out a hand.
Without hesitation, I put mine in his.
Rough, calloused fingers closed around mine. He helped me off the platform and spun. Then he was dragging me, moving so fast that I could barely keep up.
“Cole, thank—”
“We’ll talk later. Once we’re out of here.”
“Are your ribs okay? You took a big hit.”
He grunted. “They’re fine.”
I stumbled, then he shocked me by spinning, leaning one shoulder down, then tossing me over it.
Oh, my God. He carried me into the corridor and I held on, hoping to hell the dress was still covering my ass.
He carried me into one of the locker rooms, then set me down. He grabbed a black duffel bag off the floor.
He yanked out a black jacket, then wrapped it around me. I clutched the lapels, pulling it over the skimpy dress. A spicy, masculine scent hit me and I breathed deeply. Next, he pulled a black T-shirt over his chest.
I clutched at the jacket. “I can’t thank you enough—”
He swung the duffel bag over his shoulder, then took my hand again. “You don’t need to thank me. Now, let’s get out of here.”
I bit my lip. I’d been so focused on the fight, I hadn’t thought about what was supposed to happen afterward. “I…I don’t have anywhere to go.”
Brilliant-blue eyes met mine. I’d never seen the ocean, but that blue was what I imagined the water looked like. They didn’t make me think of sunny skies or pretty lakes, they were stormy and turbulent, like the deepest ocean.
“You’re coming with me.”