I grinned. “Then take my money. Because this fucking fight ain’t over.”
“Whatever you say, lady.” He chuckled, making note to his friend about my friendly bet. The thing was, I wasn’t a gambling woman, but people didn’t know what I knew. That the man just needed an extra shot of encouragement.
“Now, I’m ready,” I whispered to myself, rushing over to ringside, pushing past everyone that stood in my way. I stood by our group, anticipating what I should say or do, nervously counting down the seconds.
“Good, because the bell is about to go off,” Dillon rushed over, taking my hand and leading to the corner where Hound Dog, Hank, and Otis stood.
Their eyes widened as I stepped further into the corner. Otis stepped forward looking over me, seeing a light red grazing along my neck. He shook his head, his own flash of anger showing on his face.
“I’m okay.” I smiled at him, because it wasn’t a lie. I was surrounded by family that cared about me, and I was about to be face to face with my man.
The bell chimed, telling the fighters to go into their corners. He hadn’t seen me yet, and as the dinging of the bell sounded off, he didn’t look back at the corner, but staggered back to the seat, waiting for his brothers to help him. I grabbed the water bottle and towel from Hank and was assisted up to the ring.
Shooter hung his head, a few drops of blood trailing along his lips, and nose. He was in worse shape than I hoped. Shooter’s face showed defeat, and a lot of heartache. His face painted with the marks of a hard-working fighter.
“You’re not looking too hot there, champ,” I said, approaching him with a little sway in my hips.
He whipped his head up, and from defeat to disbelief to a small smirk on his face. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in, breathing me in. His little shaky breath heated my skin.
“You’re here. You’re actually here.”
“Um, yeah you told me you wanted me here.”
“I was fucking worried. The cameras went out and I didn’t know what was going on and De Santos’ bastard got in my head.”
I wiggled out of his hold and dropped to my knees and sat at his level. “Nothing would ever keep me away from you. I took care of my obstacles. And I came back for you, sugar.”
“I love you so damn much.”
I leaned in and softly kissed his lips, trying to do my best to not let time tick by. But this was my Shooter, the strong loving man. His lips craved strength, craved the healing essence to soothe his heartache and yearning. The world around us didn’t matter, the kiss was for us.
I pulled away, cupping his bloodied cheek. “So what happened to winning?”
His charming smile reappeared. “I’m trying, I was missing a certain piece of my heart and drive. My mind was somewhere else.”
I couldn’t hold back a smile, because it wasn’t a part of the plan. But I had my own secret way of getting him back on top.
“Well, what if I told you had another reason to win?”
His eyes grew large. “Tell me.”
I glanced at the clock, only a few seconds left.Edge him. “Make it another round and I’ll tell you.”
I zipped away from him, scrambling out of the ring and back to our people, he stood up, taller than before and pointed at me. “You are a very cruel woman.”
“Win me a round, sugar.” I blew a kiss to him. Melody wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder. The bell dinged, and all I saw was Shooter having a new found strength. I wasn’t going to leave his side.
A wave of cheers sounded as Shooter took the chance to lead into offensive strategy, trying to corner his opponent, finding the weak spots. He was a machine. I couldn’t help but be in awe of him. Months ago he was in my ER for a small leg fracture and in that fight, he was a man of steel.
He threw out hit after hit, and in turn defended himself. That adrenaline started pumping in his veins. The bloodthirsty look in his eyes, throwing everything he had into his fighting.
I would be lying, but I didn’t know if it was the hormones or a turn on, but watching him sort of made me horny. I really had been around him for too long and I was okay with that. Hell, I wanted that in my life.
Screams and yells from his brothers giving him directions like they were so proud of him and knew that he could do this. Even Dillon found his spark watching his mentor fight a raging titan. I tilted my head, looking at his opponent. So many dots were being connected. Chris being at the house, the bookie saying the odds were low for Shooter, and then looking at his opponent. This was never a fucking fair fight.
It was dirty looking at how this fight was rigged. It all made sense, even remembering the story that Dillon had told Shooter. This mafia family had to go.
Seconds later the bell rang. And fighters were back in their corners. Hound handed me the towel and water again, helping back into the ring.
