How was I to predict she would show up here, of all places?
“Come on,” the big guy pants, his fist sailing over my head. “Winner gets to take her home, yeah?”
We live together, jackass.
I dive for him. I bring him to the mat. His head bounces off, and his hot exhale hits my face. His fist catches my cheek, and I go into survival mode.
The rest is a blur.
I won. My opponent lies on his side on the mat, and he spits blood out as he comes back to consciousness.
The cage door’s hinges squeal, and suddenly, Tyler is in front of me. He presses a cold compress to my brow. I wince at the prick of pain, but he just scoffs at me. He shakes his head and glances over at the guy on the mat.
I was not supposed to win. That thought filters in amidst the din, and it dawns on me that the crowd is going nuts.
Tyler leads me out of the cage, down the steps, and straight through the audience to the back room. I bump my knuckles against outstretched fists. My head swims.
“Find Scarlett,” I tell Tyler.
Someone holds the door open for us, ushering me through, and I crane back to check that my best friend is still following.
“You definitely have a concussion,” he says with a frown. “Scarlett?”
“Scarlett Wallace. Maybe you’re the one with a concussion.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
“Thanks.” It physically pains me to say that in regards to him tracking down Wallace, but whatever.
I move farther into the room and sit gingerly on one of the benches. I stretch out my legs in front of me and slowly lean back.What’s-his-facegot some good hits in but not nearly as many as the last fight.
I see another ice bath in my future.
The door opens again, letting in the noise of the crowd. There’s another fight about to start, by the sound of it. Two guys come in with my opponent, whose arms are slung over their shoulders. His eyes are barely open.
They help him in and to a chair on the other side of the room. One of the guys blocks my view as he pays attention to his injuries.
Whatever. I should’ve hit him harder.
The door opens again, and Tyler leads in a pale Scarlett. My fury spikes again at the guy’s words, and I know he wasn’t making shit up. She wouldn’t be this freaked out by me fighting.
That would imply she cared.
“I should not be back here,” she says faintly. “I need to go.”
“Caught her trying to get her phone back in the hallway,” Tyler supplies.
I grimace and shove myself to a stand. “Come here.”
She glances uncertainly at Tyler, who returns her look with a blank stare. When he gives her nothing, she moves across the room and stops just out of my reach.
“I’m gonna go find out about your winnings,” Tyler says.
“Who is he?” I ask quietly.
I’m mindful thatheis in the corner, and she hasn’t seemed to notice him yet.
The two guys fussing over the rich asshole pay us no mind.
