“There’s only Cash left, and he’s nice to them, but it’s clear he doesn’t see them as ol’ ladies,” Sophie adds.
I keep quiet as the hours pass. I occasionally tune in to their conversations, then my mind takes over and I think about Rage. Ava asks if I’m okay, but I just keep telling her I’m fine, even if I feel anything but. Eventually Ava, Elena, and Ivy go to bed.
I glance down at my phone. It’s 10:50 p.m. My heart beats faster. It’s nearly time.
“I’m off to bed, you two,” Milly says. That leaves just Sophie and me.
“Bye, babe,” Sophie replies. She waits until Milly leaves, then turns toward me. “Do you want to see Rage fight tonight?”
I gasp in surprise.
“I haven’t drunk anything for hours because I wanted to check with you. I can drive. It’s only five minutes down the road.”
My eyes still bulge in disbelief. “I... I... I’m scared, and I don’t know if me being there will make it worse for Rage.”
She shrugs, her expression calm but firm. “I think you two need a dose of reality,” she says bluntly. “We can stay at the back, have a few of the MC men with us for safety, and keep hidden so Rage doesn’t see us. I like Rage. He’s a good guy, and you seem like a nice girl. But there’s no point in avoiding the inevitable.”
Her words hit like a truth I’ve been avoiding.
She winces. “I don’t want to upset you—I just want to remind you that he’s a biker.” She chuckles uncomfortably. “You can’t separate the violence from them. They protect with everything they have. They’re only violent when threatened or in the ring, but they’ll do whatever is necessary.” She pauses and raises a brow. “The other women won’t tell you because they’re scared of upsetting you, but I need to be honest because Rage is a friend, and I’d hate for him to be heartbroken when you eventually realize you can’t accept his way of life or who he is.”
I raise a hand, stopping her. “No, it’s not that I don’t accept who he is. I think he hasn’t coped in a healthy way for a long time, using violence as a means of letting out his anger. I care for him, and I don’t want him to get hurt trying to prove himself. He’s an amazing person, and I just want him safe.” I pause, swallowing through the tightness in my throat before I continue. “I’ve been through domestic violence, and the violence triggers me.”
Rage said it himself. He’ll always protect me, and that’s why I didn’t get too upset at him today when he pushed that man.He saw me stressed and reacted. I wish he wouldn’t snap like that, but he calmed down quickly and came straight toward me to check if I was okay.
She smiles, and it throws me off. “It makes me happy that you really like him. Now come to the fight and support him, or just be there for him, so he doesn’t worry about coming home and upsetting you. The fights stink, they’re bloody, the men are gross and feral.” A look of disgust crosses her face.
“So you’ve been before?” I ask, surprised. I didn’t know the women went to them.
She nods. “Once.” She peers down at her phone. “But if you want to go, we better leave now. You need to determine where your limit is.”
I exhale, though it does nothing to ease the tension. “Okay, let’s go.” But my body is repelled by the idea. It’s not that I’m unwilling to support him. I do want to, and I would in anything he did... but I struggle with the fighting.
I follow Sophie outside, the cool air hitting my face as we approach her flashy sports car. Once I get in, I smell leather and faint traces of her perfume. She grips the wheel, her manicured nails tapping lightly against it, and then we’re off. I hold on to my churning stomach. The small potholes are not helping at all.
It isn’t long until we reach the warehouse. Even in the darkness it looks run-down. The lights are on inside, and the parking lot is full of cars.
Sophie drives around and parks right out front next to the club’s bikes. She gets out and waits for me. I hesitantly open the door. I can hear the yelling and cheering of the men inside, and it makes me tremble. Axle is on the speaker introducing the fighters. As soon as he says Rage’s name, my heart breaks.
Sophie walks over, links her arm through mine, and pulls me along. “Quick, let’s go before we miss it.”
I’m stumbling over my feet, dreading every step. We walk inside, and I’m overwhelmed. Yelling and the smell of smoke, spilled beer, and blood assaults me, making me gag. Cash is by the door. He looks at us, and his eyes widen, then he shakes his head. He looks disappointed, as if us being here is a bad idea, but Sophie’s demeanor hasn’t changed. While I wrestle with the idea of leaving, Cash leads the way into the crowd. Sophie pulls me along after him.
The warehouse buzzes with the energy of the rowdy crowd. The ring is up on a podium in the center, with bright fluorescent lights above. Rage is standing in the middle, and it’s as if someone has punched me in the stomach and winded me, because I struggle to breathe. His bronzed skin glistens and shows his defined, taut muscles. He throws air punches, but it’s his eyes, which are homed in on his opponent, that are scary. There’s nothing but pure, unadulterated fury behind them. Goosebumps travel up my arms.
The hulking Russian, with his barrel chest and huge, steroid-enhanced arms, looks at Rage with a small, amused smirk. Sophie yanks me forward, and I hear the bell ring as we weave through the crowd.
I glance to the right when we stop. We’re standing next to Viper and the other club members. Judging by the tension on Viper’s face as he looks at the two of us, I’d say he isn’t happy with us being here either. He and Sophie exchange words while I stand on my toes, staring at the stage.
The crowd shouts as the fight begins. Rage darts forward, his movements quick and calculated, like a predator testing its prey. The Russian swings a heavy fist, but Rage ducks, countering with a sharp jab to the ribs. The Russian grunts and retaliates with a thunderous right hook. Rage narrowly avoids it. My heart hammers in my chest as his agility keeps him just out of reach.
The fight is a clash of styles—Rage’s speed and precision against the Russian’s brute strength. Rage lands a flurry of punches, each one chipping away at the giant’s defenses. But the Russian is relentless, absorbing the hits and waiting for his moment. And then it comes.
With a roar, the Russian swings a devastating right hook that connects squarely with Rage’s jaw. The impact makes Rage crumple to the ground and the crowd gasp in unison. I scream. Tears flood my face. I rush forward, but arms are holding me back. I thrash, then look behind me to see Viper holding me. Rage is hurting... he needs me. It seems like the fight is over.
But Rage isn’t done.
Through the haze of pain, he pushes himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. His eyes burn with defiance, and the crowd erupts into cheers, sensing the shift in momentum. The Russian charges, aiming to finish the fight, but Rage is ready. He sidesteps, delivering a brutal kick to the back of the Russian’s knee, making him stumble.
