TV crews are all over the place, which she didn’t mention beforehand. It’s hot, and my tits and forehead are covered in sweat. The lights that shine down on the ring are unbearable. I should have worn less makeup because I can literally feel it melting off my face. And my clothes are sticking to my body. I’m praying my ass doesn’t have a wet spot.
The lights shut off, and the crowd screams so loud I cover my ears to try to block it out, but it does no good. When they come back on, they’re flashing, making it hard to see anything. Music begins to pound through the speakers.
“There he is,” Jasmine yells, nodding her head to the aisle while yanking on my arm to pull me to my feet.
A man bounces from foot to foot as he makes his way down the aisle to the center of the arena. Women reach for him. Men slap him on the shoulders. He wears a black silk robe tied loosely around his waist.
He walks up the stairs, then bends down to crawl into the ring between the ropes. He comes to a stop in the center and drops the robe.It’s Grave.I’m not surprised the guy fights.
He came by his name honestly. The guy always had a death wish. When he was fifteen, he ended up totaling Bones’s car while drag racing it. He was high and drunk, and Bones was so pissed. I will never forget the way he fucked me. Ruthlessly. I had bruises for days. And even after he was done with me, he was still raging. He wanted to beat the fuck out of his brother, but he didn’t touch him. I still don’t know what stopped him.
They call his opponent out from the other end of the event center, and the crowd boos him. Grave’s obviously a legend here at Kingdom. I have a feeling he’d have that kind of welcoming crowd even if he didn’t own a part of the casino.
“Does he fight often?” I ask her to wonder how he got around that legal battle. It has to be illegal for an owner to participate in such activities.
She nods, her starry eyes on Grave as he smiles at his opponent. “Every weekend.”
“I saw him last night.”
“What?” That gets her attention, and her green eyes slam to mine. “When? Where?”
“At Brentley’s. He was there with Titan.”
Her eyes widen. “Whoa.” She places her hands up. “You’re just now telling me this, why?”
I shrug. “Didn’t find it important.”
She places her hands on my shoulders and shakes me. “But—”
“He didn’t recognize me,” I interrupt her.
“Titan?”
“Oh, he recognized me.” I give a rough laugh. “The fucker took my phone.”
“What the fuck, Em?” she snaps and places her hands on her hips. “Why haven’t you told me all this?”
I look down at the white Nikes she made me wear, unable to meet her eyes. “I’ve been gone a long time. And I know you and him—”
“There’s nothing going on there,” she interrupts me. And then sighs. “I wish you would have told me. After this is over, we’re getting your phone back.”
The fight lasted two point five seconds. The guy swung at Grave and missed. Then Grave hit him—once—and he dropped to the ground like a dead body.
We pose for photos for the media crew members running around and with the men who had VIP tickets. They even asked us to sign shirts they purchased. One guy asked to take a selfie with me, said his business partner would hate himself for not coming to the fights. Whatever.
People start to exit the event center.
“Let’s go.” Jasmine grabs my arm and drags me up an aisle, pushing people out of our way.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“To get your shit back,” she growls.
I dig my heels into the floor. “Oh, no … it’s fine. I can get it later. Or buy another one …”Yeah, with what money, Emilee?
She walks into a tunnel and takes a right. People crowd around with their phones out still taking pictures. A few guys are dressed in three-piece suits and others casual in jeans and T-shirts. They all wear lanyards around their necks, giving them access back here.
One guy spots us and smiles. “Hey, ladies. What are you doing later?”
