Fierce(80)

The guy flops down on the hard concrete ground, and I think I hear something crack. The audience goes ‘ooh,’ and I wince when the guy places his hands on his ribs, his face contorting with pain.

Hunter prowls toward him with a smug smile on his face. Grabbing the hem of the guy’s shirt, he lifts part of his torso up into the air, and raises his fist. He mouths something, but nobody can hear it. Then he punches the guy straight in the face.

Multiple times.

My eyes widen. I’m shocked.

Hunter beats the guy’s face to a pulp and doesn’t let go until he’s fainted, his body limp in Hunter’s hands.

I’m disgusted.

The crowd bursts out into cheers, while I want to throw up in a bucket. I can barely hold down my dinner.

“It’s a win for the Hunter!” A big tattooed guy dangles a key between his fingers and opens a barred door right behind the fainted guy. Hunter backs away, spitting out some blood, and goes back to his side of the cage. Clinging onto the bars, he gazes at the crowd, peering at each and every one of them.

When his tongue dips out of his mouth, and he licks his lips, I can’t help but feel hot.

And then he roars. The crowd goes mad.

“Who’s the motherfucking Hunter?” he yells.

“You are!” the crowd chants.

Apparently they’ve found a new favorite.

I can’t blame them. He’s my favorite too.

Although I don’t want to admit it, because this is so fucking bad I can’t even describe it, he looks goddamn sexy as hell in that cage. His red sweatpants hang low on his hips, his V-line clearly showing. He’s half-naked. His abs are bulging as he flexes his taut shoulders, and drops of sweat roll down his chest.

A smug smile appears on his face as one of his fans, a girl with a pink blouse and boobs the size of melons, hands him a bottle of water. She squeals when he snatches it from her hand and throws the contents over his head and body.

I could enjoy seeing that, if I were to forget for even one second that he’s actually fighting people for money. Damn.

The big guy whistles, alerting two other guys to come pick up the body and drag him out, while the guy with the keys stares Hunter down. He blocks the exit, his hands hovering over his hips. In his pocket there’s a glinting object. A knife.

I gasp.

And then Hunter looks my way.

I freeze, my breath faltering. His eyes narrow as he looks at my face, and then they widen as he realizes it’s me.

I bite my lip; his jaw drops.

No. I don’t want him to know that I’m here. That I’m watching him do this fucked-up shit.

But now it’s too late.

Another guy enters the cage, this one much bulkier than the previous. He bellows, slapping his own chest like a gorilla. The guy with the keys locks the door again, trapping Hunter inside.

Hunter barely takes his eyes off me.

But I can’t take my eyes off the guy who just came into the cage.

My heart is beating in my throat. I don’t think I’m breathing.

It’s the same guy that once tried to rape me on the street.

Those tattoos, I’d recognize them anywhere. It’s him. It’s really him.

Now I understand what he meant when he said that he’d meet Hunter in the arena. This is the arena. This is his rematch. A fight for revenge.

Fuck.

The guy approaches Hunter from behind, and I watch in horror as he drags a distracted Hunter away from the bars and pounds him right in the back. Hunter arches his back, the blow too much for him to take, and blood shoots from his mouth.

Hunter immediately hits the guy in the balls with a backward kick, and releases himself from his grip. He pants, turning to his opponent, and barely manages to stand up straight. He winces, the pain clearly showing on his face.

“I’m going to kill you!” the guy yells in his face.

Cracking his knuckles, Hunter waits until the guy comes at him, while I bite my nails in frustration and fear. Suddenly I notice the guy has a knife in his back pocket.

I panic.

“Hunter!” I scream. “Knife!”

Hunter turns his head toward me, his eyes filled with primal despair as he responds to my cry. Temporarily distracted, he doesn’t see the jab coming straight for his face. It’s my fault.

His body can’t absorb the blow, and he’s hit so hard that he flies across the cage. I hold my breath as I see him crash into the bars of the cage. His eyes show an expression of pure agony.

Tears well up in my eyes. I can’t watch this. I can’t be here. I’m only hurting him. I can’t watch him do this to himself. To be the victim of someone else’s frenzy.

I stand up and run all the way to the end of the bleachers.

“Hey!” Evie screams, coming after me. “Wait up!”