Chapter 6 #3
A warning to anyone who fought against him.
His legs were powerful, thick thighs that I would not be able to wrap my hands around. My mind tripped over itself thinking about just how thick and long another muscle might be. Wow. I was crazy to think anything involving this fight was sexy. It was crazy and dangerous.
Everything about the fight was wrong.
I found myself wishing he would turn around, but it was obvious he was waiting for the go-ahead from the king of the hill.
He got it with a lift of the man’s drink.
Born Killer didn’t toy with the man. He didn’t bother offering any space or breather. He came out swinging and within a split second, had the man on the mat.
His opponent recovered and the two traded blows before grappling. No matter how they struggled, Born Killer seemed to have the advantage.
In another thirty seconds, the round was called and I was completely frozen to the spot. The same dull throbbing in my ears remained, the wild beating of my heart making me lightheaded.
Over the roar of the crowd, I could hear the traitor panting, a deep cut over one eye.
“Hey,” Mark shouted. “Card girl. It’s time. I thought you didn’t mind a little blood.”
I snapped my head up, glaring at him, able to smell the blood and sweat.
I wanted to scream at him that a man was about ready to die but bit my tongue instead, grabbing the card and moving toward the stage.
At least my legs were working just fine, which meant when I escaped, I’d still manage to run far away.
Thank God, I didn’t stumble like some teenager when climbing through the rope.
I was also grateful the Born Killer wasn’t paying any attention, standing on the farthest corner with both hands on the rope.
He wasn’t talking to anyone even though there were several men clamoring to get his attention.
He was standing still, staring off into space.
While there was sweat running down his back in long, glistening strings, there was no other visible sign of exertion.
At least I was a distraction, enough the men were going wild.
“Come here, doll. I have something for you.”
“Hey, hot babe. What about we get together after the event?”
A few got close enough Mark moved in front.
I could tell it took only one harsh look for them to back off.
I kept my saccharine smile, managing to maintain some sense of composure while crouching low enough for money to be slipped into my garters.
They were packed full, but I could barely concentrate.
I made it off the stage without falling apart or tripping.
Round two started off with a bang, both fighters again testing each other.
But Born Killer’s edge showed more and more, landing three strikes for every one he took.
As the round ended, I felt instinctively that his opponent couldn’t last much longer.
This was crazy. I couldn’t believe not only they were allowed to get away with this, but more to the point that killing a man in cold blood had become a sport.
My mind was filled with horrible images.
I made it onto the stage, finding it more difficult to do my job.
I also refused to look in the direction of either fighter.
The thought of watching one die while the other enjoyed killing him would forever linger in my mind, likely the worst thing I’d ever experience. Dear God, I prayed that was the case.
With the ding, the fight resumed and I cinched my eyes shut. Thud after thud meant Born Killer was doing his best to draw out the round. The stench of blood was overpowering, my system fighting nausea and beginning to lose.
Wham. Boom!
“Kill him. Kill him. Kill him!”
Chants, boots stomped on the concrete floor. Neanderthal shouts of joy.
This was crazy. Insane. I couldn’t breathe. I kept my back to the ring. Heart thudding.
Blood pressure rising.
A sharp cry was followed by a brutal crack and suddenly something splattered on my shoulders. Gasping from fear more than anything, I rubbed my finger across my shoulder blade, holding my hand up to the light.
Blood.
Oh, my God. Oh… my… God.
Shock tearing through me, I spun around to face the ring just as I witnessed the Born Killer drop to one knee beside the fallen traitor. The killer grabbed the man’s head and without a single moment of remorse, he twisted until I heard a sharp crack, louder than before.
The traitor’s face was only a couple of feet away, the light and life slowly fading, leaving his stare into my eyes devoid of life. But I’d caught them just before he’d faded into death.
They’d begged me for help.
With the sound of the crowd fading behind me, I slowly lifted my head toward the winner.
The murderer.
He was closer than he’d been before and when he finally rose to his feet, his gaze remained locked on the floor below him.
On me.
And in that split second, that moment where all time stopped, I recognized the man who’d broken the young man’s neck.
My boss.
The man I’d fantasized about countless times.
The man who’d awakened my dark desires.
Stash.