"Definitely. He may be strong, but he's a guy so he's got a weak spot." She leaned in close, and in an exaggerated voice whispered, "It's his balls."
I managed to summon a half-hearted laugh. "Solid plan."
I tried to resist, but about a minute later, the masochistic part of me won out and I glanced back over. Neither Logan nor the brunette were anywhere in sight. My stomach sank.
There was every chance he'd left alone, but I couldn't make myself believe it.
Chapter Thirteen
Grace
The next night I was scheduled to work the little bar that was tucked into the corner of the arena. Ninety five percent of the time it went unused, but on Final Blow nights Charlie opened it so people could get their drink on without missing any of the action. It was my first fight, and despite my relative indifference to the sport itself, I couldn't help but enjoy the spectacle of it. The arena always seemed hollow and dingy in the light of day, but the swelling crowd, thumping music and bright lights brought it alive. Right now, it felt more like being in a big top than a bar.
The night was structured around what Charlie referred to as a card; basically a series of fights culminating in the clash between Logan and Caesar. Their bout was the talk of the room. Logan had seemed nonchalant about it, but the buzz around the bar said his opponent was serious business. He had a perfect record in his league over in Chicago, and it was rumored he was being courted by the UFC. I didn't know much about the sport, but I knew that meant he was no slouch in the ring.
Ask me a week ago, and I'd have told you I was excited to see Logan fight. Part of me still was, but I couldn't deny that I was hurt by his sudden back-flip. He didn't owe me anything, and I knew that logically it was better if nothing happened between us, but every time I pictured his hand around that hussy's waist, I found my jaw clenching.
The me of a few months ago would have let that send her hurtling toward rock bottom again, but now I was more determined than ever to stay on the path. I'd made such progress over the last few weeks. I felt better than I had in a long time, and I wasn't about to let one dubious moment between us throw all of that into jeopardy. In a week or two I'd forget all about it. I had to. For now, the mission was to stay positive and try to have fun.
And fitting with that goal, tonight my partner in crime behind the bar was Jonah. He'd grown on me a lot, recently. When I first started at Charlie's, he'd struck me as just another immature player who'd happily chat up anything in a skirt, but there was something vaguely charming about his shamelessness. No amount of rejection seemed to stem the tide of one-liners and pick up attempts. All in all, he was fun to be around, and I figured that as long as he didn't push the issue too far, he was harmless enough.
"First fight?" he asked, during one of our rare lulls.
"Yep."
"Did Charlie give you your goggles yet?"
"Goggles?" I asked.
He frowned. "I guess that's a no. That's okay, there's a spare pair here." He reached under the bar and fished out a pair of clear Perspex goggles, the kind you'd typically find in a woodworking shop.
"What the hell are these for?" I asked, turning them over in my hand.
"You don't know?" I shook my head. "Oh, shit. Well basically, when you work these fights, you're supposed to put on a pair of goggles. Stops you getting blood in your eyes. Something to do with OH&S."
I felt a lump building in my throat and I glanced at the arena, which was at least fifteen feet away. "Blood? But they're all the way over there."
He stared at me like I was an idiot. "It's a fight, of course there's blood. These guys hit hard. I mean, some nights are worse than others, but you'll always get at least a few splashes. Ever wonder why the Charlie's tees are black?"
He let me dangle like that for several seconds, images of the two of us painted scarlet-red from head to toe playing through my mind, before bursting out laughing. "Works every time."
My cheeks turned hot and I aimed a not-too-gentle punch at his shoulder. "Not funny," I replied, although I felt a smile tugging at my lips.
"If you'd seen your face, you'd disagree," he replied. "In all seriousness, don't worry. These nights are fun, and if you get into any trouble, I'll take care of you."
I rolled my eyes. "My hero."
The room filled quickly, and by the time the first fighters were announced, there wasn't a free seat to be seen.
A familiar voice rang out through the room. "Ladies and gentleman, welcome to another action packed night of Final Blow." Charlie stood in the center of the cage, a microphone in hand and a giant grin plastered across his face.