Perv(47)

The arena was more crowded than last week, and Jenna felt more confident than seven days ago too. She’d studied the sport this time and at least knew the difference between grappling and striking. Whoever sat near her in the girlfriend zone couldn’t accuse her of being ignorant this time.

Mason was quieter than usual. He didn’t say much on the drive nor in the locker room. When Byron came to get her, she felt uneasy. “Good luck. See you on the other side.”

Byron led her down the same hall as last week.

Jenna stopped him as they approached the noise. “Is everything okay? You’re both very hushed.”

“It’s a stiff competition this week. Mason has lost to this guy twice, and he doesn’t like to lose.”

Jenna nodded.

“And we don’t usually have two competitions in a row like this. So, Mason is more tired than usual.” Byron strolled away, leaving her to enter the arena and find her seat.

She was later this time. The previous match ended soon after she took a chair in the same corner as last week.

The woman who sat in the seat next to her got up and left as soon as the competition ended.

Jenna wrung her hands as she waited. The crowd was lively. Surely all these people didn’t know the fighters? Was it so popular watching men beat each other up that everyone flocked to the arena on a Friday night?

The announcer called the next competition, and Mason stepped into the cage. He strolled over to the corner, but he didn’t look at Jenna at all.

It’s okay. He’s concentrating. He’s in a zone. Let it go.

She felt uncomfortable alone in the stands without a Shelly to guide her. She knew more, but she also had the opportunity to really study the sport this time. What the hell was she doing following a fighter around? This was so unlike her.

The bell chimed, and Jenna jerked in her seat. She stood and angled around the others milling in the front row to see over their heads.

From the first moment, it didn’t look good. Mason took a hard hit to the left side of his head, and then he went down for several seconds. The other guy lay on top of him, grappling for domination. Mason didn’t give up, but by the time the five minutes were up, he was struggling. He staggered to his seat, and Byron wiped him down with a towel.

Jenna wanted to scream. What the hell did he want to do this for? And why was she watching?

She was crazy.

She sat on her hands for the entire minute and then stood reluctantly when the bell chimed again. The insanity continued. Mason avoided several hits with his signature bullfighting move, but his opponent was on his game. The man kept coming and coming until Mason was backed up against the fence. Blood ran down his face and dripped from his arm.

Jenna wanted to vomit, or close her eyes. Either way, this wasn’t her cup of tea. She’d been kidding herself all week. She’d never be able to do this on a regular basis. Last week had been different. Mason had won. He’d had the upper hand almost from the start. But this… This was reality. Sometimes he would lose.

By the time the bell rang, ending the third round, Jenna was a ball of nerves. Her hands were sweating, and she felt fidgety. She couldn’t get out of the arena fast enough.

Mason had lost, and the victor was prancing around the cage with his fist in the air.

A disgusting bloody Mason left the mat and disappeared down the ramp to the locker rooms.

Jenna followed at a distance, not sure what sort of Mason she would encounter after that competition. She didn’t know him well enough to assess his moods yet.

She waited in the hall, feeling stupid and out of sorts for half an hour. What she wanted to do was run from the location and flee the premises. This didn’t suit her at all. She was a fish out of water.

But she hadn’t driven here, and besides, it wasn’t fair to Mason to leave without talking to him. Maybe he wouldn’t feel like going to the club after all. She’d be content to call it a night and go home at this point.

Finally the door opened, and Mason stepped sheepishly out of the locker room. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to take so long.” He cringed when he spoke, but righted himself quickly, standing taller and straightening his shoulders.

“No problem. I’m sorry about the match.” What else could she say?

He shrugged. “Win some. Lose some. I knew it was going to be tough going in.” He took her hand and led her down the hall in an awkward silence.

Her chest lightened somewhat now that he was near and seemed sane.

“I need a drink,” he mumbled.

Now? He didn’t drink last week when he took her to Extreme. Wasn’t that like against his personal policy?

Jenna’s nerves kicked back up a notch. She dragged a few steps behind him.