Owned: A Mafia Menage Romance(200)

Auger raised his eyebrows, his breath coming out hot from flared nostrils. Bryce stubbornly looked away.

“He used to be MMA,” he muttered quietly, trying to not draw attention to himself. “But none of that shit is legal here, OK? No leg strikes. No elbows. Strictly fists. All that Mixed Martial Arts bullshit cost Orion a fortune in broken noses.”

Auger glared meaningfully at him. No MMA sounded suspiciously like for-sure MMA, in his experience. It also sounded like exactly what Bryce promised they wouldn’t be doing.

Bryce sighed as Auger just stared at him and refused to look away. Finally he cringed and shrugged. “Look,” he started unconvincingly, “you saw who was on the upper deck. These guys aren’t looking for a serious fight. They’re here to party. They just want to throw some money around and talk to their dates.”

Auger hoped that was true. He finally just nodded and ran his hands through his hair, trying hard not to stare at Nickie’s shiny silver trunks. He was scrawny and snake-like with wispy blonde curls and a small patch of scraggly chest hair. Despite his loud mouth, he looked about nineteen years old.

The other guys looked like they ranged from late teens to mid-twenties, Auger figured. They all had the angry, balled-up muscle of youth. Those kind of guys fizzled out fast. He was glad he wasn’t fighting them because he would likely break any one of them in half in about thirty seconds.

Everybody except Twister. His age was harder to figure: years of tanning bed had permanently burnt his skin and the steroids took his hairline. But his muscles were longer. Auger figured him for early thirties. He hoped so.

Those guys only get stronger as they got older, he reminded himself.

The door opened again and another lightweight strolled in with an easy, athletic gait. Auger turned and started pulling off his tank top and nylon track pants. When he turned back around, the new kid was staring at him.

“Jimmie,” the kid said, and stuck out his hand. Auger shook it, instantly noticing a big brother-sort of warmth rising in his chest. Jimmie looked like the type of kid he had to protect from beatings in high school. Like Bryce, only hopefully with half a brain left in his head.

“Auger… Odin,” he muttered, trying a friendly smile.

Jimmie shook his hand quickly, then held a fist full of paper slips over his head. “OK!” he said loudly, so everyone would stop their chatter. “Let’s draw for order… then get out there… they want to get those side bets going. Orion’s all over me…”

He held out his fist to Auger and let him draw first. Bryce took the next one, then Nickie. They all held them up to show our numbers.

“Whoa man, you’re up first,” Bryce said, nodding. “Way to jump right in.”

“And jump right out,” Auger reminded him.

“Yeah… I got third. That’s cool, whatever,” he shrugged, crumpling the slip and tossing it on the counter. “Just tape up and let’s get out there.”

“Yeah,” he grumbled, reaching for the roll of hand wrap and looping the end over his thumb. As he unrolled the protective wrap over his wrist and hand he met Twister’s gaze in the mirror. The other fighter had no expression as he watched Auger’s hands closely.

Slow down, Auger told himself. He’s probably trying to figure out how practiced I am. Don’t seem confident. Don’t seem… eager. This is not a dare.

“Hey let’s get a move on,” Jimmie announced. “We’re looking at a grand a round, plus sponsorships. Everybody stay safe out there.”

Auger shot Bryce a look as everybody got their gear in the lockers and stood up to go. Trent and Nickie rolled their necks and stretched their arms, bouncing in place. Bryce still looked away, so Auger got right up next to him.

“A grand a round?” he growled. “That was not our deal.”

“Keep your voice down,” Bryce muttered, trying to edge away. He nodded as the other guys filed out of the tiny, smelly room. “So you’ll hang in there for two rounds… What’s the big deal, man?”

Auger’s fists clenched at his sides, straining the tapes. “The big deal is that I have no intention of staying in the ring longer than two minutes.”

“Well…” Bryce tried to get a breezy tone into his voice without making direct eye contact. “Dude, just make it up in sponsorships, then. You’ll get paid even if you tap out. I mean… he won’t like it…”

“Who won’t like it?”

“Orion! I mean… but whatever.”

“Fuck Orion!” Auger snarled and grabbed Bryce by the elbow, turning him around so their eyes met.