Bear manages a nasty strike to my jaw, and I recoil a step, checking it by moving it around while I let a sick laugh spill from around my mouthpiece.Do what you need to do to win.’Round and ’round we go, waiting for the other to make a move. Adrenaline pours through me. I have to end this. Better to do it quickly than make him continue on, forcing him to potentially worsen his injury. I throw a punch that lands on his upper arm. The bad one.
The heavy hit stops him in his tracks, and he can’t hide the pain bursting behind his eyes. I wince hard, seriously regretting having to do it, but at the same time, I need the win. He’s stepped into the ring with an injury. He should know better. I know he does. I exhale hard through my nose and grind my teeth into my mouth guard. And while he’s still recovering from the last blow, I step in, firing a shot at his head.
He falls to his knees, a dazed look washing over his face, then collapses onto the mat with a resounding thud. He’s out cold.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear the entire warehouse erupt into both triumphant shouts and agonizing cries.Beckham’s and Royal’s victorious roars fill my ears, and as I turn my head toward them, Echo beams a smile at me, her arms overhead and punching the air. My head swims with the realization of what’s just happened.
I did it. I beat Bear Pierce.Holy shit.Fighting to steady my breathing, I drag in several breaths while I watch to make sure he’s coming around, because I can’t not. The future medical professional in me is fucking concerned. I breathe out a sigh of relief as the ringside doc gets to him, but still watch carefully for signs that he’s regained consciousness. After several long seconds, his eyelids flutter, then he groans before half-heartedly swatting at the doc hovering over him. Still out of it, but awake. Right about now, I’m sure it’s dawning on him everything that he lost by fighting while injured. He never should have been in the ring today. Makes me wonder why he did it. He had to know.
The blustering of Derek Pierce snags my attention. Bear’s father is red-faced and clearly pissed off. My brow furrows. That makes no fucking sense at all. During the fight, while his son was losing, he was calmly sipping his motherfucking drink and chatting with Tristan Valentine. No sign that he was upset at all until now. That’s fucking weird shit right there.
Before I can process what’s happening, the ref grabs my wrist and lifts it into the air, announcing my win by knockout. I frown at him for a moment. What the fuck is he even doing? Bear’s still with the doc, not up off the mat yet. I grit my teeth and smile, then once the ref releases my arms, I take a running jump at the side of the cage, climbing to the top and lifting both arms in victory.
Beckham, Royal, and Echo are on their feet, close to the cage. Beckham can’t contain his “Fuck yes!” and Echo is vibrating with excitement, grinning hard at me. And Royal, he simply nods and winks. There’s something in his eyes, a glint that has mewondering if there’s something I’m missing. I’ll make him tell me. And if he won’t, I have ways of getting that man to spill.
Rubbing at the clover tattoo on my chest, I soak in my victory. Luck was on my side tonight, but I wish the win had come at a time when Bear was at full strength. There’s no denying it still feels good. No one goes into the cage planning to lose.
I let out a relieved breath and turn on my heel to find Bear standing there in the middle of the ring waiting for me. Unsteady.
I hold out my hand, feeling like shit, but knowing the crowd expects a certain persona from me. Smirking as he takes it, my eyes travel up his arm to his shoulder, locking on it. “You didn’t have to fake being injured to have an excuse for losing to me. We all know I’m the better fighter.” I press my lips together, shaking my head before I withdraw my hand. A chuckle I don’t really feel rips from my lips as I walk away from him. I’ve acted exactly as everyone expects from Wild Man Emory. But that doesn’t stop the pain, worry, and angst in Bear’s eyes from hitting me in a way I never dreamed.
We have more in common than I would have thought, and if I’m not mistaken, it all begins with our fathers.
TWENTY-THREE
BECKHAM
I can’t believeWilder won. Well, I can… but that was a massacre. I’ve watched a lot of fights, and I’ve never seen Bear that distracted—ever. It should have been an even matchup, and it simply wasn’t.
Word had gotten out fast that Derek Pierce demanded the warehouse be cleared quickly. It can be chalked up to his son losing, but the older Pierce’s behavior tonight was erratic. I’d watched him carefully because his sort interests me—and that man went from dickish asshole to uncaring jackass dad to Demon Derek over the course of the evening. His security detail began ushering people out of the building almost as soon as the ref held Wilder’s arm up and announced him as the victor. And of course, it left those few people who hadn’t lost their money tonight in a mad scramble to collect at the betting window.
Wilder and I hightailed it to the dressing room with Echo between us to take refuge so the man of the evening could quickly shower while we waited for the pissed-off mob to leave. We haven’t had a chance to talk about much of anything or decompress yet because, while Wilder was the winner, we’re also sort of in enemy territory. There’d been a few people excited for Bear’s dethroning, but more had been disgruntled becauseWilder’s win had cost them money… Though, they were angrier with Bear, in my opinion. Better to exercise caution and get the fuck out of Dodge.
But we can’t do that until Royal returns. Almost as soon as we got to the dressing room, he’d taken off again. Said he had something to take care of. I’m more than a little nervous to find out what he’s been up to. Tracking down Derek and knocking him out? He knows what was said to Echo, so it tracks. But… he wouldn’t fucking do that right now, would he?
“Where do you think he went?” A freshly showered Wilder chews the inside of his cheek, glancing at his phone.
I shrug. “No idea.”
Running a hand through his still-damp hair, he shakes his head, stashing his phone in his pocket. “Well, I’m going to pack up my gear, then I think we should wait in the truck.”
Echo huffs out a breath. “I think I know where he is, and it’s not what you’re thinking. I’ll tell you in the truck if he’s not back by then to tell you himself. But you’re right, I feel antsy hanging around here.”
A knock sounds at the door. Hopefully, this isn’t trouble. I cautiously open it, to find Madison on the other side. She peers past me, obviously looking for Wilder. “I have Wilder’s winnings.” She’s telling the truth, judging by the stack of bills in her hand. “Mr. Pierce sent me to deliver it, and he said it was only to be given directly to Wilder.”
I’ve never heard of them entrusting a cage girl with the money, so that’s odd. Either something has happened, or Madison begged for this last chance at Wilder. Or both.
Wilder appears with his bag slung over his shoulder, eyeing Madison like he definitely thinks she’s trouble, and I swear if her tongue weren’t attached, she’d be licking every inch of him already. I’ll admit, he does look good—post-fight muscles bulge under the formfitting T-shirt he’s thrown on,and in gray sweatpants, he’s every girl’s wet dream. Mine too, coincidentally. And I happen to know his dick is swinging free in there because I watched him dress not five minutes ago.
She gives him a bright smile, holding his cash near her ample breasts. “Wilder, I was thinking we could—” Biting down on her lip in a way I’m certain she thinks is sexy, she raises her brows.
He plucks the cash from her hand and stuffs it into one of the outer pockets of his bag. “Sorry, Madison. No time to talk. Excuse us.” Jerking his head toward me and Echo, he skirts around her, throwing the door open and exiting without a backward glance.
Echo and I exchange an amused look, then hurry past her as well. Then in plain view of the sorority girl, Wilder hooks his arm around Echo, drawing her close to kiss her… and then a moment later, he repeats the process, gripping the back of my neck as he hauls me close, too. His mouth collides with mine as he thoroughly leaves his mark on me. I wasn’t expecting that. Wilder never does that shit in public unless it’s obvious it’s for show, like at a party. My heart gives a resounding thump in my chest before he eases away. And the thing is, he never looks back at Madison. I don’t think that was for her benefit at all. “Let’s get the fuck outta here. We can text Royal from the truck. Let him know where we are.”
As we leave the building, I can’t hold it in any longer, I snort with laughter, “You didn’t give that poor girl a chance.”
Wilder’s lips curve into something that is half smirk, half smile. “I have everything I need with the five of us. We’re a closed unit. Done. No one else need apply.”
