Seb half smiled, watching as the fighters wrestled each other into chokeholds. “We wouldn’t be human if we didn’t.”
The crowd erupted when one of the fighters was flipped onto his back with a heavy thud.
My eyes drifted across the mess of waving arms, raised beer bottles, and roaring faces before I spotted Antonio in his usual place in the crowd. The small section separated from the rest of the rowdiness where other businessmen sat with him and his bodyguards. Seb had mentioned Antonio only ever came when Dean was fighting. And that he was glad he wasn’t fighting tonight because his presence put pressure on everyone else to fight better.
If Dean was feeling pressured, he was hiding it well. Apart from the furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes that could cut through stone, he seemed almost content. Almost bored as he began to remove his hoodie, revealing muscle that was just that little more defined after his warmup. His body was prepped and ready. Even the simple motion of peeling back his hoodie caused a muscle to tick in his abdomen.
Seb cleared his throat before I flicked my attention back to the pit. Face burning uncomfortably, I chewed on my bottom lip, refusing to look anywhere else but at the fight when an Irish accent cut through the cheers of the crowd.
“Your nose is unusually straight for a fighter,” Murphy said as he stood on the other side of the doorway. Facing the fight pit but looking at Dean from the corner of his eye with a smirk on his face. “That’ll have to change, I think.”
Dean remained silent, ignoring his opponent, and rolled out his shoulders. Seb was also ignoring him. Or at least trying to as he rolled his eyes when Murphy had spoken. Following their lead, I kept my eyes ahead — except for when I snuck a wary glance in Murphy’s direction.
“After I break your face,” Murphy continued, “how about I break a couple more ribs, yeah?”
Seb scoffed. “Shut your face, you stupid ass.”
If it weren’t for the seriousness of the situation, I may have smiled but chose to keep my expression blank. It was hard not to feel nervous as Murphy shifted in the corner of my vision. I could just make out the way he tilted his head as he faced us.
Stupidly, I took another glance and found him watching right back. He smirked when he caught my eye.
“Hey, lass. Almost didn’t see you there.”
I tensed and looked ahead again. Then, in the subtlest of movements, Dean took a step forward. Blocking Murphy from view.
Joe rang the bell in his hand, signaling the end of the second last fight.
When the fighters left, bleeding but okay, and the crowd had calmed down again, the microphone whined through the speakers around the room. I winced, Seb swore and covered his ears, and Dean closed his eyes.
Joe’s voice echoed across the basement as he announced the next fight.
Murphy, or Murphy’s Law, was first to be called out and strutted into the pit to a Gaelic chant by some of his supporters.
When Romeo was announced, Joe had barely finished speaking the name when the crowd completely lost it, stamping their feet, clapping, and pounding their fists on the metal barrier around the fight pit.
As Dean made his way down the entrance, I turned to Seb. My voice was muffled by the shouting. “What is Murphy’s problem with Dean?”
Seb pressed his lips together, waiting for the crowd to be a little less loud. But that wouldn’t happen and so he leaned closer. “Jack Murphy is an ex-MMA fighter. He was kicked out of the sport for using performance-enhancing drugs. When he discovered this place had no rules against drug use, he joined.”
Joe rang the bell again, circling the fighters as Murphy threw the first punch. Dean blocked with one arm and struck with the other.
“He thought he would easily beat everyone here because he was once a pro fighter... On his first night in the ring, Murphy was put against Dean and thought he had that fight in the bag. Until Dean, just 19, completely flattened him— Oooh!”
Murphy had flipped Dean onto his back and went to kick at his head until Dean pivoted and swiped Murphy’s ankles from under him. Murphy went down hard, smacking his head on the wooden floor.
“Then what happened?” I found myself unable to look away from Dean. The way he moved with deadly precision, his muscles already gleaming with sweat. He made it look easy.
“Murphy was pissed that someone five years younger than him had beaten him.” Seb was only half paying attention to his story as he too was enthralled with the fight. He threw up a fist in triumph whenever Dean landed a punch that sent Murphy stumbling. “Since then, Murphy has had this vendetta to beat Dean however way he can— Kick his ass!... Last year, he wrapped brass knuckles under his fist wraps before the fight.”
It was enough to pull my attention from the pit. “Isn’t that against the rules?”
“There are no rules,” Seb shrugged. “Cheating is allowed but isn’t respected. Murphy was booed out of the ring.”
“That explains the ribs.”
“Dean told you?”
“Murphy alluded to it.”
