by Kendall Ryan
Fighting outside the ring was a bad idea for any serious fighter. It could lead to serious injury—of the other party, of course—and then there were all the rules intended to keep everyone safe in the ring. But they didn’t apply out here.
Sophia sprang up the second she saw me come in. Her eyes widened and she scurried back toward the kitchen. “We were just talking,” she said, as if I would be okay with my little sister talking to a pornography producer. I didn’t care if it was the softer stuff; stay the fuck away from Sophia.
I clenched my jaw and breathed deeply, trying to stay calm enough to not murder this little shit.
He stood up with a friendly-ass grin on his face, seemingly oblivious to the fact that I was a hair away from redecorating Sara’s apartment with his internal organs, and took a step toward me.
“Hey, Ian, remember me? I’m Rick. I was just stopping in to check on Sara.”
He was most likely there to try to talk Sara into coming back to work for him, but Cade told me she’d been out of the business for a while and was planning on staying that way. The bit about her being a designer wasn’t a total lie; she was going to school to be one, she just hadn’t finished yet.
It didn’t matter what reason Rick had for being here, though. He was not welcome. As soon as I got my rage partially under control, I stepped toward him. “I think you’d better leave.”
“I was just checking in on—”
“Rick, go.” Sophia interrupted him, her voice urgent. She knew me, and knew I wasn’t dicking around.
“Don’t you worry, sweet little Sophia. I’m just—” Rick started, but I didn’t let him finish.
I swept his feet out from under him, then grabbed his hand and twisted it, pulling him backward toward the door so that he had to scurry crablike after me in order to not break his wrist.
“You didn’t know Sophia was my little sister, which is the only reason I’m not killing you right now. Get the fuck out, and never come back.” I pulled him out the door and left him in the hallway. “If you ever approach Sophia again…” I didn’t finish because, hell, who knew what I’d do if I ever saw him with Sophia again.
Rick looked seriously pissed off as I slammed the door on him. Tough shit.
“Sophia, what the hell were you doing talking to that shit-bag?”
My sister folded her arms over her chest and glared up at me. “Ian, you can’t tell me who to talk to. You don’t get to do that to everyone.”
“The hell I don’t. If I ever catch him near you again, it’s his fucking funeral. Now, grab your stuff and let’s go.” I pulled out a wad of cash and thrust it into Sara’s hand on my way to the door.
“Damn it, Ian,” Sophia said as she grabbed her purse, but she followed me out.
I never should have had her watch Sara’s kid. I knew Sara was a former “actress.” It was my own fault Sophia was here.
“You know what he does, right?” I asked Sophia as I drove her home.
“Yeah.” She looked at me like I was a total shit. She knew she was the only person who could look at me that way and get away with it. “He’s Cade’s adult film director.”
Sophia wiped her hand across her nose and turned to look out the window, her knee bouncing rapidly up and down. She did that when she was pissed off.
I left her alone and drove her back to her apartment in silence.
Eight
MacKenzie
I knew that, as a nurse, I shouldn’t enjoy watching two guys beat on each other so much, but it was cage fighting. All that raw testosterone being thrown around was a total turn-on. And let’s not forget that these guys were naked from the waist up, and totally built.
Um, and maybe I pretended they were fighting over me.
My eyes were fixed on the guy in blue shorts. Sweat dripped from his face onto his firm bronzed pecs. His body was already glistening. It was the final round, and he was still throwing punches and kicks. He’d lost some of the bounce in his step, but his opponent sagged on his feet, his eyes half closed. He was in a perpetual block stance with his hands in front of his face, probably just hoping he could stay standing until the final horn.
It looked like Sweaty Pecs was going to win this one. To be honest, it wasn’t the most exciting fight I’d seen.
I stifled a yawn and nudged Ty. “Watch, you pussy.” He was curled up on his folding chair, peeking through the cracks between his fingers.
“Kenzie, I can’t believe you can watch this. You are one sick chick.”
“Why did you come if you didn’t want to see them fight?” I asked. I knew why, but I still liked to tease him. Ty was so newly out of the closet that he had a hard time saying it aloud sometimes.
“I like watching them when they’re sparring. I thought this would be like that,” he said, his voice high and whiny.
“You just wanted to get your fill of shirtless men. Admit it. But why can’t you get into it? Pretend one of them is fighting for your honor.” I batted my eyelashes at him.
He bit his lower lip, and his gaze wandered as he considered the implications.
I laughed. The guys at the gym were gay friendly, but they were also mostly very straight. The idea of being in a relationship with a guy would probably make them get huffy pretty damn quick.
Ian entered the room and took a seat off to the side of the ring. His fight was up next, the main event. He sat up straight, his muscles relaxed even as he watched the fight closely, as if it was an important lesson. His eyes followed every move of each fighter. You could almost see him mentally taking notes of what the fighter was doing well, and more importantly, where his vulnerabilities were.
He was so intently watching the fight that I could safely look at him without him noticing. A hint of his eight-pack rippled under his T-shirt. His arms were tanned, but not yet sweaty. His skin looked soft, and I knew his muscles were rock hard.
The final buzzer sounded, pulling my attention away from Ian and back to the cage. Sweaty Pecs won by judges’ decision.
“Woo-hoo!” I shouted, nudging Ty, who’d managed to at least put his feet down on the floor.
“MacKenzie.” Chris smiled as he beckoned me up to the cage.
“That’s me,” I said and grabbed my medic bag, heading to the front.
Voices buzzed excitedly as everyone milled around, getting ready for the main event, and I moved to the side to do my post-fight check. First with the loser; sadly, he was one of ours. He was exhausted, dehydrated, and would be bruised as shit tomorrow, but he’d survive.
Next, I looked over the winner. “What’s your name?” I asked as I shined a light in his eyes to check for reaction.
“I’m Adam,” he said.
“Nice fight tonight, Adam,” I said as I took his pulse. This was all routine. As the gym medic, I checked all the fighters after amateur bouts like this one.
As I tracked the second hand on my watch, another fighter stepped up behind my patient. Nice abs. I licked my lips and looked up to see who it was, and tried not to show how annoyed I was as I inwardly rolled my eyes. It was Ian. Mr. Porn-star-dater himself.
“Hi, MacKenzie,” he said stiffly.
He sounded all formal. So irritating. If he didn’t want to be with me, that was fine, but I didn’t need this stupid professional crap between us.
I didn’t respond, instead turning back to my patient. “Do you feel like you sustained any injuries?” I knew from watching the fight that he would be sore tomorrow, but there was nothing serious.
“I think I may have pulled my groin muscle,” he said as he smiled and winked at me. “Could you take a look?”
Ian remained rooted to the spot behind Adam, his head cocked as he waited to see how I would respond.
What I did next was totally insane. “Sure,” I said as I smiled at him sweetly and slid my hand up his thigh.
What the crap am I doing? His thigh was rock hard but he wasn’t that hot, and we were in the middle of the gym. Chris’s gym. Chris, who I was dating.
I caught the rage in Ian’s posture, though, and that egged me on. I gave Adam my best doe-eyed smile and grabbed his groin protector. His cock hardened quickly, and he moved to adjust his jewels.
“Does that hurt?” I asked innocently.
When Ian let out a huge breath and stormed off, I stifled a laugh and stood up. Serves you right, you big jerk. Hurts, doesn’t it?
“Hey,” Adam said. “You aren’t done examining my injuries.”
“You’ll be fine,” I said and turned to go back to my seat, but Adam grabbed my arm.
“Hey, slut, you started something.”
I barely had time to react before Chris was in front of Adam, all puffed up and ready to go. He might not fight anymore, but he could still whip any guy at the gym, even with his bum knee. Most guys knew this, and even if Adam didn’t, he should be able to see that Chris had about a hundred more pounds of muscle on him than Adam’s slight featherweight build.
The gym owner didn’t say a word. He just stared at Adam until he backed down, grabbing his gear bag and heading to the exit.
Chris then turned to me with a disgusted sneer. “Does he think just because he wins a fight he can grab any reward he wants?”
“Yeah,” I said and ran my hand through my hair. I shouldn’t have grabbed Adam that way, but in that moment, I wanted to get at Ian riled up so bad, I went for it. There was no way in hell I would admit any of this to Chris, though, so I just agreed.
“I’ve got your back, sweetie,” he said, then leaned down and kissed me on the nose.
“Thanks, boss.”
I kept my voice even but gave him a pointed look, reminding him of the deal we’d made. I was just a medic when we were at work. The dating thing only went on outside the gym. Then I headed back to my folding chair in the first row.
Ty seemed to have forgotten he was scared of fighting and was finally getting into the half-naked-man show going on, which was exactly why I’d brought him. He was like a girlfriend without the competition…so flipping awesome!
Ian’s opponent stepped into the ring and immediately started dancing around with his fists in the air. To my surprise, a good portion of the audience cheered for him. I looked around; maybe this guy had a few friends in the audience.
One of the refs checked over Ian, then let him into the ring as well.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer began. “This is the main event, three five-minute rounds, middleweight MMA fight. Weighing in at one hundred ninety pounds, twenty-four-year-old Ian Leclaire, representing the home gym. His opponent, twenty-seven-year-old Michael Steel, weighing in at two hundred pounds, hailing from Las Vegas.”
From the few fights I’d seen, Ian had been fighting below his potential for a while. It seemed like every fight he had, he ended up knocking the guy out in the first round. I’d heard he once knocked someone out with the first punch.
The fight tonight was supposed to be different, though. This guy Steel had fought pro before, if only somewhat briefly. But if Ian could win this fight, it would open all kinds of doors for him. I was already on the edge of my seat.
Inside the ring, the ref talked to the fighters briefly before he had them touch gloves and the first round started. Ian was a bouncer; he jumped around on his feet. Steel shook his head as if trying to shake a voice from his mind, then he stepped in to swing at Ian.
Ian was ready for him and sidestepped as he jabbed the guy squarely in the jaw. Steel jerked back. I thought I was about to watch Ian’s second ever one-hit knockout, but Steel found his footing and only wavered slightly before he came back at Ian. Hard.
“Damn, girl,” Ty said.
“What?” I turned to him.
“You just totally flinched.”
“I did not. You’re crazy.”
“Tsk. Whateves.”
Nine
Ian
Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and I couldn’t have that. Too much adrenaline too soon, and you tired yourself out.
It was stupid of me to try to engage with Kenzie before a fight. Now I just wanted to hit something, hard. But this guy was a pro, and it would take more than just brute force to win this. I needed skill and a level head.
We touched gloves, and I went right for the obvious jaw jab without even thinking. Damn. I wasn’t supposed to do that. The guy’s skull was so thick, he’d never been knocked out. I knew this, but I couldn’t focus.
Must focus.
I bounced on my toes to bleed the energy out and to try to keep him guessing, but then I lost it and came at him. One punch, then another, then a kick. He blocked both punches, then he blocked my kick. I went at him again, punching at him over and over like a fucking idiot, but I couldn’t stop, haunted by the scared look on Kenzie’s face when Chris was holding that fighter back. What had he done to her?
Frustrated, I whaled on Steel some more, but he calmly blocked every blow. At the rate I was burning calories, I’d exhaust myself by the end of the first round. Yet I couldn’t stop hitting him and kept at it until he finally threw a punch.
I jumped the wrong way, putting myself right in the line of fire. Fuck. Right on the nose. That was going to leave a mark.
“Get your ass in gear and move!” Chris called out from the sidelines. He knew I was distracted; he just didn’t know it was because the idea of anyone messing with MacKenzie turned me into a homicidal maniac.
I bounced back and shook it off. The metallic taste in the back of my mouth told me I was bleeding, but I ignored it.
Steel bobbed in front of me, throwing punches I knew were fake because I was familiar with his fight style, I’d watched it so many times. I easily avoided his swings, remembering that he would soon try to grab me and bring me to the ground. I whirled before he got the chance and gave him a strong kick to the side of his head.
Contact.
His whole body floated sideways from my kick and fell into the cage wall.
Steel pushed himself back on his feet, and I went at him again. He really had lost some of his fight, almost falling as he came at me.
He raised his fists again, and I thought he was about to go for my kidney so I moved to block, but instead he punched me right in the fucking throat.
I spun back, grabbing at my throat as if that would get me the air that I needed. Son of a bitch, that hurt. I clutched the side of the cage and gasped for breath. A pinch of air, then another. I was breathing, sort of. The ref came over and put a hand on my shoulder, and I waved him off. I just needed some room so that I could breathe. Please.
Kenzie was suddenly right in front of me, grabbing the links of the cage as she stared at me, wide-eyed. I didn’t want her getting close to Steel. I didn’t want her anywhere near this shitball. I waved her off, or tried to. Stubbornly she held on, and Chris had to step in and pull her away.
“Are you okay?” the ref asked.
I nodded, but put my hand up between us to let him know I needed a second. It must have taken me too long, because he held up his hand as if he was about to announce the winner.
Fuck. I didn’t want this. Steel’s fist to the throat was a foul. And if I could no longer fight because of his move, I won.
He was about to announce my win, but I didn’t want to win this way. It was like winning a pool game because the other guy scratched on the eight ball. It would say nothing about my skill level, only that Steel was a dirty fighter. I wouldn’t get the recognition I needed, and I wouldn’t get the new fights I wanted.
“Wait,” I said, the word coming out scratchy because my voice didn’t want to work. “I’m good,” I whispered.
Damn, I sounded like shit, but as I spoke, my breath started to come more easily. The ref relented, and the fight was back on. My neck hurt like a bitch, but there was only fifty seconds left in this round. If I could just hang on until then, I might be able to win this. I hoped. Fuck.
I led with a kick and managed to corner him against the fence, pounding his face several times in rapid succession. He c
urled up to hide his face, and I punched him in the side. He sank to the floor, and I rolled him over and put a hold on him.
With a surprising burst of energy, Steel pushed back and rolled us over, landing all his weight on my shoulder. I heard the crunch. It hurt so bad, I fucking yelled. But I managed to pull him off with my other arm, wrap my legs around him, and secure the hold around his neck. He waited a beat before he tapped out.
Yeah, bitches!
The bell rang, and I let Steel up.
The crowd roared to its feet, but as I stood up, my shoulder screamed in pain. It hurt so badly, I pounded my fist into the cage, as if that would make the pain stop.
Kenzie was in the ring as soon as the fight was called. She stopped in front of me, her eyes all red and wet.
What? What happened? What made her cry? I didn’t understand.
Ten
Ian
“Ty, you’re not on a Sunday drive. Could you step on it, please?” MacKenzie cried.
I sat in the backseat with her—in serious fucking pain—while Ty drove us to the emergency room. My left eye was swelling shut and my face was bleeding in a few places, but that wasn’t what worried me. My shoulder had been crushed during the fight, and now I couldn’t move my arm. Which meant it was bad.
“Don’t bleed on my upholstery, please,” Ty said. “This is a new car.”
MacKenzie wiped at my face with a sterile pad. It was pointless since the blood was now mostly dry, but I let her do it because it seemed to calm her. Her touch was so gentle, it pulled my mind off the pain.
“We’re almost there, Ian,” she said.
I shouldn’t have noticed it, because there was so much of my own blood all over, but as she dabbed at my face I saw several crescent-shaped wounds in her palm. I pulled her hand away from my face to get a better look.
“You’re bleeding,” I said. “Who did this to you?” Damn it, was this why she’d been crying earlier? Did that jerk do this to her? “Who did this?”
