Sam.
Her whiskey eyes are swimming with worry, and she’s chewing on her bottom lip. Even after being a cunt to her at the warehouse, and after she saw me gut a man, she’s worried?
I catch the motion almost too late, but at the last second I flex my abs to absorb the blow. Dancing back a few steps, I have to really focus on getting my breath back.
Feck. Eejit.Keep your head in the fight. I concentrate on the pain, expand it, use it to fuel my fury.
Chapter 29
Samantha
I’m watching Killian recover from the blow to his gut when there’s a low chuckle beside me. I glance up to see Sully smirking down at me. “Well,” he says, “now it makes sense why my brother won’t let you dance on The Lucky Sinner.”
I want to ask him what he means, but just then our attention snaps back to the fight as a collective cheer roars around us.
Killian’s wiping blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. My stomach clenches. I don’t know much about boxing, but I don’t think bleeding in the first round is a good sign.
The sight of the blood appears to have flipped a switch in The Punisher, electrifying him as he lunges forward in a flurry of swings aimed at Killian’s head.
Killian easily dodges the effort and lands a punch to the big guy’s ribs that has him stumbling back a few steps. But that seems to have only pissed him off as he roars and lunges again, long powerful arms sweeping through the air like wrecking balls aimed at whatever part of Killian’s body isn’t protected.
Killian covers his face with his fists and does his best to duck and weave, but a few crushing body blows land, sending the crowd into another tizzy. “Finish him!”
Killian’s expression is ice, calm, focused, showing no signs of panic despite the brutal blows. Just that small gleam in his eye as he stares The Punisher down.
By the time the bell rings, I’m dizzy from holding my breath. The Punisher gets in a few more dirty hits before he shoots the cheering audience a cocky grin and heads to his corner.
Killian’s gaze finds me again, his jaw set hard like his attention is on me against his will.
I bite my thumbnail and hold his stare. If things continue like this, I’m afraid he’s going to come out of this with more injuries than I can patch up. I know he sees the panic in my eyes because he shakes his head subtly. I can almost hear him saying, “Stop worryin’, Vixen. I got this.”
Then he winks.
My eyes narrow. Are all Irishmen this cocky? There’s a small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. That mouth that gave me so much pleasure.
Stop it.Heat warms my cheeks.
His smile stretches like he knows what I’m thinking.
The voices and laughter fade around me. I’m only aware of his burning stare, the trickle of blood on his swollen lip that I want to kiss, the sweat rolling down his glistening, pumped body. He’s filthy, bleeding, dangerous and so fucking hot I have to hold back a moan.
Guilt immediately rises up. Lusting after a cold-blooded killer?Come on, Samantha.Didn’t you learn your lesson?I have a death wish apparently. And really bad taste in men.
The bell rings and he saunters to the middle of the ring, still holding my gaze with that knowing smirk. Then he turns togive his attention to the giant who’s intent on bashing his brains in and the spell is broken.
I suck in a deep breath, feeling disorientated and out of control.
Sully leans down and yells in my ear over the crowd. “He’s got this, love.”
But I have to watch another round of Killian taking blow after blow, and while he is getting in a few lethal shots of his own, they aren’t enough to deter his opponent. Killian’s right eye is swelling, and there are red welts all over his chest and stomach from the beating. I’m sure he’s got a few cracked ribs.
I feel so helpless. What is he doing? I know he’s quick enough to move out of the way of the majority of those blows. With a minute left in the round, I can’t take it anymore. My anxiety is already at a level I’m barely controlling. I push my way back through the crowd and order a Tequila shot and throw it back. With the fire in my belly burning through some of the unbearable anxiety, I return to Sully’s side just as the round ends.
I cross my arms and huff up at Sully. “He’s not going to last much longer taking those heavy blows.”
Sully takes a sip of his beer and studies his brother, who’s pressing an ice pack against his eye. “He trained with the best in Ireland. He knows what he’s doin’.” He glances down at me and shakes his head. “At least in the ring.”
I can already tell something has shifted in the next round when Killian rolls his shoulders as he nods at The Punisher. Gone is the careful, calculated stance. As he dances around the sweaty Italian, who’s breathing hard and dropping his hands again, Killian jabs and measures, his body loosening. It’s likehe’s taken off whatever leash he had on, his energy shifting into high gear.
