2. Theo Fairview
The bell sounded, signaling another round, and I grinned.
The screams of the blood thirsty crowd sent adrenaline pulsing through my veins, and I stalked back into the ring.
“You’ve got this, kid! It’s in the bag!” my coach, Jerry, hollered at me from my corner. He was a squatty, gruff old man who’d been training me for years. I didn’t need him to tell me I had this. I knew.
I was the best this league had seen in ages, and my opponent was already bleeding and showing signs of exhaustion.
She hadn’t landed a hit on me, and it wouldn’t take much for me to end this and collect the substantial pot that had been placed on this fight.
“Fuck her up, Muscles!”
I glanced ringside to see Cal, my brother’s fiancé, grinning like a lunatic and waving a foam finger in the air as he cheered me on.
He was wearing a black hoodie that said ‘dibs on the ginger,’ and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that foam fingers were more of a football thing.
He was just so damn enthusiastic. He was the only person in my real life who ever showed up to watch me fight, and it was honestly nice to have someone in the audience cheering for me.
Ryan almost never came. He hated that I did this.
It wasn’t that he hated my love for the sport. He hated that I fought in this underground ring. It was illegal, and there were very few rules of conduct.
If you didn’t tap out, the fight kept going, which sometimes meant there were fatalities.
This is what made it so addictive for me.
Outside of the cash prizes, which were sometimes larger than I would ever admit, the knowledge that every time I stepped into this ring I was risking my life just did something for me.
I loved the rush.
I loved the way it made me feel like I was dangling my life in front of the reaper, only to snatch it away at the last minute.
Teasing him.
Taunting death himself.
It felt so good that it bordered on turning me on.
Andrea Balgetti, my current opponent, met me in the ring, and I sized her up. We were of similar weight and size, but she was a tough bitch, and had clearly been fighting for a long time.
It didn’t matter, though.
I was better than her.
I was better than most.
Her left eye was swollen shut from a jab I’d connected in the last round, and she was looking more than a little haggard.
Neither of us wore gloves. Just taped knuckles, and my tape was splattered red with her blood.
I smirked at her, and she scowled, rushing me.
Her fists whizzed by my head, and I went into autopilot.
Duck, swerve, swing.
My fist connected with her face again, and she cried out as her mouthguard went flying.
I laughed, bouncing on my feet.
Come on, Andrea. You’re making this too easy.
Her face contorted in fury as she threw herself at me, and I felt a pang of annoyance at how predictable her next few moves were.
I wanted her to hit me.
As much as I wanted to win, I also wanted the pain.
I needed it.
The only thing worse than losing was making it through an entire fight without taking a single hit.
Otherwise, what was the point?
So, when she threw her shoulder back, and I knew she was coming in for a left cross, I intentionally hesitated, bracing myself for the sweet, bone-crunching rush of agony that I knew was coming as her fist connected with my jaw.
Fuck yes.
My face exploded in agony, and I spat out a mouthful of blood from where the inside of my cheek sliced open on my mouth guard.
“What the fuck was that!” Coach shouted, his rage at my misstep palpable. “You should have seen that coming from a mile away!”
“Fuck, Muscles! Amateur shit!” Cal barked, and I chuckled, unable to keep myself from smiling at my two adorably frustrated cheerleaders.
They didn’t have anything to worry about.
Andrea looked smug and pleased with herself, having no idea I’d basically fed her that punch for free.
I’d gotten what I wanted; now it was time to collect my money, find a horny groupie, and go home to celebrate.
It took two crosses, a jab, and a swift uppercut for me to knock Andrea out.
She was KO’d before she even hit the ground, and I was dizzy with adrenaline and the sweet, sweet sting of pain as the bell rang again, signaling my victory.
Coach was in the ring suddenly, holding my hand up and cheering along with the rush of a hundred or so gangsters and gambling addicts that made up the crowd.
Cal was jumping up and down, waving his foam finger like a maniac, and I couldn’t stop laughing.
I spit out another mouthful of blood and grinned, feeling like I’d just made the world my bitch.
I was having a hard time focusing on Coach’s recap of the fight with Sienna straddling my thigh. She was gorgeous–a little trashy for my taste–but fuck… her body was perfect. I couldn’t wait to get her back home and bury my face between her thighs.
“You did soooo good, Theo, that was sooo hot,” she crooned, grinding herself intentionally on my lap as she pressed an ice pack to my cheek.
She was one of the pushier fight bunnies, and she’d muscled her way into the gritty, concrete changeroom after the fight.
I’d allowed it, because I was horny and high on adrenaline. It made it easier if I didn’t have to go out hunting for someone to wind down with at some sort of after-party.
“Theodora, focus!” Jerry snapped, as I slid my hands up Sienna’s exposed waist, staring as the muscles in her abdomen contracted beneath the brush of my thumbs.
“I’m listening, I’m listening,” I muttered, leaning forward to nip and kiss at Sienna’s collarbone, causing her to giggle.
Jerry made a frustrated sound, and I didn’t need to look at him to know he was rolling his eyes.
“No, you’re not, and you should be. What happened in the third round? There was no reason Andrea should have been able to land that cross.”
“Mmm, I dunno, slipped up, I guess.”
“You can’t be making mistakes like that when you take on the Russian,” he snarled.
Sienna rolled her head back, exposing the feminine line of her throat to me, and I groaned, running my tongue up the side of her neck.
“Noted,” I murmured, inhaling the fruity scent of whatever cheap body mist she’s sprayed on. “No fucking up with the Russian. Got it.” I rocked Sienna harder into my thigh, and she let out a delicious little mewling sound that did all kinds of shit to my insides.
The door to the changeroom burst open, and Callum barreled in. He had a huge goofy grin on his face, which immediately disappeared when he took in the fight bunny that was currently rolling her little jean shorts into my hip.
He forced his giant foam finger between us and used it to shoo her off my lap.
“Get out of here, toots. This room is for friends and family only.”
“Cal, what the fuck?!” I snapped, and Sienna let out an equally indignant screech that made my lip curl in annoyance.
She screeched like that in bed sometimes. I would have to remember to gag her. Happily, she was usually down for a little bondage.
“Theo wants me here!” she protested, but Cal just rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, well, I don’t. Get out. If she still wants to fuck you later, I’m sure she won’t have a hard time finding you,” he grumbled, glaring at Sienna. “You’re a walking asthma attack. This whole room smells like a Yankee Candle store.”
I groaned and slid down in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Jesus, Cal. Tone it down.”
He turned his angry brown eyes on me and growled.
“Have you met me? I couldn’t tone it down if I tried. Besides, we need to talk about that last round. What the fuck was that? That was some bullshit. It was almost like you wanted her to hit you. Ryan’s gonna be pissed if you break your nose or some shit this close to the wedding.”
“The wedding is weeks away. Plus, Naomi is sick with makeup. I’ll just get her to fix me up if it comes to that.”
“It shouldn’t have to come to that! You’re better than this. You could have taken that chick out in the first five minutes. Why didn’t you?”
Sienna threw the ice pack on the ground and made a harumph noise before storming out of the changeroom, obviously irritated that no one was paying attention to her anymore.
I sighed, staring at her ass as she went.
“Hey! Earth to Theo!” Cal waved his giant foam finger in front of my face. I reluctantly turned back to look at him.
Both he and Coach were giving me equally unimpressed looks.
“I don’t know what you two are so pissed about. I won, didn’t I?” I grumbled, scooping up the discarded ice pack and pressing it against my swollen cheek.
Callum narrowed his eyes, and I rolled mine.
“Whatever, don’t look at me like that. Especially not after scaring Sienna away. She would have been an easy lay.”
I was legitimately pretty butt-hurt that he’d cunt blocked me. I liked fucking Sienna. She was slutty and never expected anything more than a few orgasms from me. It made things simple.
“You shouldn’t be fucking random groupies. What about Cass?”
I glared at him.
“What about Cass?” I snapped.
“The deal was you help me lock down your brother, and I help you get with Cass.”
“No, the deal was I would help you with Ryan, and you would give me your sister’s number. Which you did. It’s not your fault she doesn’t have any interest in responding when I text her.”
It was hard not to feel bitter about this.
This was why I stayed away from straight girls.
I’d thought when she’d been living with us for a bit that I’d be able to make some headway with her, but she couldn’t get out of Fairview fast enough. As soon as the threat of Cal’s old boss was gone, she’d moved back into her condo and hadn’t bothered to give me the time of day since.
“She likes you, Theo, you just need to try harder.”
I snorted. “Try harder, how? If she’s not going to answer my calls, there’s not much more I can do.”
“Have you tried stalking her?”
Jerry choked on a laugh as he busied himself with the forms he needed to fill out so we could claim our prize money.
“I’m not going to stalk your sister.”
“Why not? That’s what I did with Ryan. Look at us now.” He beamed at me, wiggling his fingers in my face to show off his engagement ring. “Now we’re getting maaarrriiieddd!”
It was hard to keep glaring at him when he was glowing with pre-nuptial bliss. He loved my brother so fucking much, and it made me love the shit out of him too.
Ryan deserved someone like Cal. He’d spent his whole life being bullied and living in the closet, ashamed of who he was.
Cal had stripped that all away and made my brother feel loved for being exactly who he was, and I would never get sick of watching them make nauseating goo-goo eyes at each other every day.
Not that I would tell either of them that. Kinda fucked with my whole ‘I don’t give a shit,’ vibe I had going on.
“Callum, enough,” I grumbled, but he just whined.
“Come onnnn, just a little bit of light stalking. I happen to know that she’s going to be at Chez Guillaume tomorrow night for some fancy work event.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“I’m not going to freaking Chez Guillaume. They’ll take one look at me and ask me why I’m not in the back, washing dishes.”
Cal scoffed. “Don’t be such a little bitch. If you want pussy, at least go after something classier than whoever the fuck that was.”
“Stop talking about your sister’s pussy. It’s fucking weird. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with Sienna. What’s wrong with a woman wanting sex? Don’t be a misogynist pig.”
Cal made a sputtering sound. He slapped a hand to his chest as if he were searching for an invisible string of pearls to clutch.
“You think I don’t like her because she’s slutty?
Please, before I met your brother, I was fucking anything that walked.
I love sluts. I was a slut. That’s not the issue.
I don’t like your little groupie because I caught her digging through your gym bag last week.
I’m pretty sure she pocketed a twenty or something. ”
“Wait… seriously?”
Damn, Sienna… Fucking rude.
Callum was nodding earnestly, and I sighed, feeling slightly bitter that I probably shouldn’t be fucking Sienna anymore if she was stealing from me.
“Come on, Theo. Put on the suit you wear to help out at Fairview. Do your little man-bun thing you always do with your hair. Put in a bit of effort, I swear it’ll pay off. Cassandra needs to feel admired. She likes to be chased.”
I wasn’t sure this was true.
Cassandra was fiercely independent.
‘I slay my own dragons.’
She’d said that once when I offered to be her knight in shining armor.
The little girl in me had swooned.
I could have used someone to help me slay the dragon that was Father Samwell. Cass probably would have just slit his throat and called it a day.
Unlike me, who’d just stood there and fucking took it.
The itchy, dark cloud that always seemed to swell inside my chest whenever I remembered that ass fuck flared, and I forced myself to shove it back down.
That was years ago. You should be over it by now, Theo. Get a damn grip.
My cheek throbbed, and I intentionally pressed my fingers into the bruise, using the comforting feeling of pain to distract me from the urgent, itchy feeling that I never seemed to be able to shake off.
God. I was so damn pathetic.
“Puh-leassseee, Theo? Do this. For me.”
“Why do you want me to hook up with your sister so bad?” I sighed, already feeling like I was probably going to cave and do whatever he wanted just so that this conversation could end.
His expression softened, and his gaze fell down to my waist, where I still had a gnarly scar from when Damian had stabbed me in the side.
“Because, Theo. She came to sit by your bed every day when you were healing. She cares about you. She’s just… not good at letting people in. She needs a push, and honestly, I don’t think there’s anyone on this planet that’s good enough for her.”
I raised a surprised eyebrow at this, and he gave me a sly grin.
“No one… except maybe you.”