Chapter Thirty-One
DREW
One more round.
My arms had turned to lead—the pain in my knuckles and fists like acid on the skin, yet it was my mind that hurt the most.
I’d got out of so many situations by the skin of my teeth, and now I had it all to win, the sense of loss hung over me, ready to bring me to my knees. I’d met some sick motherfuckers in my time, but Travis Gatlin was up there with the worst, and whether I won this fight or not, he wasn’t about to let me get out of this alive. I just had to make sure Ayda and the baby got out. That was the one goal that kept my body driving forward with a need to kill.
It didn’t matter if I died, as long as they got to live.
My thighs throbbed, my chest fucking ached, and my feet were getting sloppy as the disruption to my vision made everything off balance.
“Come on, Tucker,” Slater hissed at me.
“You’ve got this, Drew,” Kenny shouted to me. “Get off, motherfucker,” he snapped at someone else. I didn’t have time to look or listen to any of them.
Trigger’s smile had slipped as he concentrated on the thrillof the kill and pulling in enough breaths to keep him moving. His first serious shot came in triplicate, my jaw taking the first hard jab, and my chest tensing against the second before he rounded it off with a hit that made my teeth rattle.
Grunting and shaking it off, I blinked away to move the blood, and I tried to see through the red spots that were blurring the world around me.
Trigger’s teeth were bared through his smile, his amusement clear.
“Too easy,” he panted, two-stepping closer to me to throw another, but I managed the dodge this time, and Travis went past me, quickly finding his feet and bringing himself back around.
“If it were that easy, you wouldn’t feel the need to stay on your toes and bounce a-fucking-round like that.”
Trigger planted his feet in place, his legs wide apart, his shoulders sagging as he looked at me. “This better for you?”
I moved quickly, my left fist aiming for the fucker’s eye. If I could only see out of one, he sure as shit was going to have the same impairment.
Trigger’s head snapped back from the impact of my fist to his face, his laughter sadistic, and I took the chance to hit him in the chest over and over while I had him. Speed was no longer my friend, and I was going to make the most of every opportunity I got.
When I bounced back on my toes and took a chance to drag in a feral breath, I watched Trigger lift a hand to the eye I’d hit, his fascination clear when he pulled it away to find a stream of blood on his fingers.
“Damn, that felt good,” he whispered, looking back up at me. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
He was soon moving again, circling me effortlessly, and taunting me at every chance he got. Trigger was too quick, and before I could maneuver my body to launch an attack on him,he was on me, pouring every punch he could muster onto my already bruised and beaten body, making sure he got my face, my arms, my stomach, and even throwing in a punch to the side of my head. I drew my arms up, blocking him as best I could, but I couldn’t see for shit. It was raining red in front of me, and I was a blind man having to feed off sounds and energy, knowing I needed to make an escape before this turned into the very thing I was trying to avoid.
“Fuck!” Trigger laughed, his panting breaths as loud as his cries of victory when he stepped away from me. “Come the fuck on, Tucker.” He punched me again, my chin taking the brunt of it, sending me stumbling back until I had to press my hands to my knees and pull in some fucking air.
“Kick his fucking ass, Drew. You’ve got this.” Ayda’s voice should have been lost in the sea of people, but it was the only feminine sound in the room, and it stood out from the rest.
I blinked hard, opening my eyes as wide as I could get them as I looked up through fucked-up eyes to see Trigger staring at me, waiting to kill.
This wasn’t a fight for me. I was fighting for her.
The grunt I released drove me forward, and I swung at him harder than I’d ever swung at anyone, the roar of survival tearing at my throat. My fist hit him like thunder, the smack to the left side of his head making his eyes roll to the side, his mouth to fly open, and his body twist and turn to the side. I caught his impending fall with a returning left punch to the right side of his face, my features twisted in anger and the blood rushing to my brain, my rage uncontrollable.
Trigger was gone, his head and body shook as he stumbled back, right into the arms of his waiting Navarro Rifle’s brother, who caught him in his arms. When Trigger’s eyes opened, his lips parted, and he stared up at me, dazed and somewhat confused.
I stood there, fists hanging down by my sides, and I staredright back at him, my teeth grinding together and my nostrils flared as I struggled to breathe.
“Get up,” I demanded quietly.
He stared. His silence his only response.
“I said… get up.”
