Chapter 1 #2
“I know!” she laughs, hanging onto my arm. “Anyone can fight!”
My heart flutters as her words sink in. “Anyone?”
“Anyone.”
Turning back toward the arena, the jitters amplify when the winner calls out for his next challenge. “How do you do it?”
Clara, breaking her gaze away from the man strutting around the square, pulls me close, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Just get your ass in there.” With a shove, she throws me toward the corner. People immediately get out of my way, cheering while throwing me forward.
Stumbling into the ring, I eye my opponent, a man I’ve never seen, who bounces on the balls of his feet. He’s ready for me. I can smell it as his pupils consume the bright blue of his irises. I flick a glance at Clara, who flexes her skinny arms, mouthing, “Use those muscles!”
Those nerves quickly transform into blissful serenity.
A calm that I haven’t felt since leaving home washes over me, and I fall into a position that matches his.
Dressed in jeans and a graphic tee, I copy his movements, circling the dirt-covered mat.
My back is facing the crowd when he throws his first punch.
I don’t know if it’s me or something guys have in common, but I take that initial swing, right on the jaw.
I swallow the pain and smile when the blood bursts on my tongue.
It’s a flavor that’s all too familiar, not just from the rumbles in the back of school but from home—those nights my father would drunkenly stumble through the door or when he woke up, itching for a brawl.
I grew to look forward to the bright burst of iron that would fill my mouth, and when it was taken from me, I grew to miss it.
I take it all in now, swallowing every drop that makes its way down my trachea.
Having yet to take a swing, I hear the gathering begin to jeer.
Continuing to circle, I eye all the recognizable faces, ending on Clara, who sneaks off toward the darker spots in the back.
My curiosity almost gets the better of me and earns me another blow to the jaw.
Luckily, I caught that one in time, slapping it away before striking him in the opposite cheek.
He stumbles back, foot almost off the mat, but rights himself immediately.
I can’t hear what he says over the rumblings of the crowd, but there’s an exhausted fire burning in his eyes.
His movements are a little slower than before, but there’s still power behind his punches.
For the next minute, we trade shots, every blow harder than the last until I get him in the soft spot of his temple. Instantly, his legs turn to jelly, and when he stumbles, he falls. Exhausted and bloody, I wait, questioning if he’ll attempt to get up. In the background, chants begin to rise.
“Seven!”
“Six!”
“Five!”
Four, I breathe, heart thumping in every growing bruise. Three.
“Two!”
Someone storms the makeshift stage and takes my hand. “Winner!” he shouts, raising it victoriously in the air. “What’s your name?” I’m asked.
“Cade.” I can barely huff it out of my wheezing chest.
“Cade!” the announcer shouts.
The crowd joins in. “Cade! Cade! Cade!”
After three more fights, the night ends the same, with my name on everyone’s tongue.
Every opponent is destroyed, and I hop from the mats with triumph dripping from my flesh.
Hands touch every inch of my bare back as I walk tiredly away from the ring.
Somehow, I lost my shirt. I don’t know if it was in the first match or the second, but some girl holds it in her hands, eyeing me with want as I approach her.
“You need this back?” she asks, lashes moving like slow fans. Instead of extending it, she holds it tight against her chest, outlining her perky tits.
“What’s your name?” I ask, pushing the sweat back into my hair.
Grinning, “Amanda.”
“You can keep it. It looks better against you anyway.”
“Aww,” she drawls, stepping closer. “Then let me give you something in return.” I let her take my hand and pull me outside, where, after a few dozen feet, she shoves me into the filthy shack wall and drops my pants as quickly as she falls to her knees.
For the next forty minutes, I got to know Amanda really well, leaning on the wall, the ground—pressed against a worn and overused holding system.
She was incredibly generous and walked away, promising she’d congratulate me again when I won next time.
I’ll hold her to that, but after I come down from my high, I realize it’s been hours since I’ve seen Clara.
Walking along the property, I search for her blonde head, growing more concerned as the minutes tick by.
I begin to berate myself for being so careless.
We’re in the middle of almost nothing, and I let her fucking vanish.
It doesn’t matter that she’s lived here longer than I have or knows the land better than most. It’s my job to protect the women around me—a trait my father taught but didn’t practice.
I should have been more vigilant. When I’m just about to call out her name, I hear something in the high grass.
There, somewhat in the distance, a groan rings out.
I step toward the sound, cautious and curious.
Half a dozen feet later, I freeze, immediately regretting my curiosity.
Clara, in only a bra and panties, bends on both elbows with her ass in the air, hands clenching Kassidy’s naked hips. Kassidy, fingers on her tits, grinds against Clara’s face, doing everything in her power to suppress her moans—and failing.
I know I should move. My conscience is literally screaming at me to, but the surprise of it all keeps me still a moment too long. Clara looks up and gazes into Kassidy’s eyes, but feeling my presence, her stare shifts, and shock has her shooting away.
“Fuck!” she shouts at the same time Kassidy shrieks, “Shit!” Their horror finally breaks me out of my trance, and I frantically back away, apologizing profusely. I don’t turn back when they call my name. We all need just a fucking moment.
Not feeling like going back to the party, I wait by the cars, pacing between the vehicles with my bruised knuckles in my palm.
The swelling around my wounds is beginning to darken, and I question how the fuck I’m going to hide this from my uncle.
My thoughts don’t get very far before a frenzied Clara emerges from the trees, Kassidy a distance behind with her head to the ground.
“Cade,” Clara says, with a weight in her tone. There are tears in her eyes and a flush that brightly displays her fear. “Cade,” she utters again, voice cracking, “you can’t—Please. You can’t ever tell anyone what you just saw. If my mom found out—”
“Hey. Hey,” I whisper, rushing to take her quivering shoulders into my arms. I do what I can in an attempt to console her, but her tears run down my chest as her sobs grow louder. When she settles, and her body no longer quakes, I hold her at arm’s length and wait until her watery stare meets mine.
“I won’t tell a soul,” I vow. “It’s nobody’s fucking business anyway.”
Her thank you is full of tears, but I understand the sigh of relief and stress leaving her shoulders. Clara’s arms once again wrap around me, holding onto the knots in my back. “Thank you.”
“Course.” I wait a beat, making sure the timing is right when I say, “It was hot. I think I might need some tips from you.”
“Cade!” she shouts, punching me in a growing bruise.
“You’re so stupid. Shut up.” At least she’s laughing again.
Eventually, Kassidy breaks away from the lining of the trees to join us, the tension visible in her frame until I reassure her that their secret is safe with me.
Her thank you is not nearly as heavy as Clara’s, and for that, I’m thankful.
I wouldn’t know what to do with a second round of tears.
Sensing the night is over, Clara reaches for her keys.
“Oh, hey. How’d you do? You look a little fucked up.
” Kassidy, nodding in agreement, slips into the passenger seat, looking exhausted and on the verge of passing out.
I explain every moment with a pride I can’t contain, detailing every match, explaining how I fought until my muscles refused to move and my mouth tasted of nothing but iron and skin.
“I won them all.”
“Fuck yes!” she shouts, high-fiving me from the front. “Let’s go again next time so I can win some money off you.”
“As long as you split those earnings.” I laugh.
“Deal.”