“I will.”
Technically, it isn’t a lie. I will be careful. Doesn’t mean I’ll win, but I’ll make sure to keep up the facade as best as I can even if it kills me. Because if I don’t, it’ll only put our business in more jeopardy, which is the last thing any of us needs.
I know he wants to say something else. To tell me to pull my head out of my ass. He won’t, though. It’s just like he said; he has my back. No matter what.
Tongue in cheek, he moves aside, and I step up to the mat. People gather around. They’re whistling and cheering and holding up red Solo cups. I don’t hear any of it, though. Nothing but the whooshing in my ears as I tear my attention from the crowd and turn to Ethan Morgan on the opposite side of the mat. His cocky grin hits like Tabasco, and I squeeze my hands into fists at my side. What I wouldn’t give to smash the arrogant motherfucker’s face against the mat.
“Jag, let’s get you taped up.” Roman grabs my hand and begins wrapping the white tape along my knuckles. “You good?” he prods, casting me a sharp glance between taping.
I nod but don’t say anything else.
“We’re gonna clean up tonight,” he continues. “All you gotta do is channel that energy toward the right person.” He gives me another look, this one is more pointed. “You got this.”
I should have this. But I won’t. Irritation heats my limbs. “Thanks, Rome,” I mutter.
He claps his hand on my shoulder, then steps aside. “Go get him.”
Bouncing on the balls of my feet, I head to the center of the mat toward a waiting Morgan. One of the refs steps into my line of sight while the other stands at the edge of the mat acting as nothing but another pair of eyes. “No biting, no eye gouging, no crotch shots. We clear?” the first ref says.
I blink, forcing myself to focus on the fight, surprised by the strong hit of deja vu accompanying his words. I’ve done this a hundred times, but this is only the second time I’ll lose. Both of which will be in front of Violet. The realization messes with my head as heat ripples through my body. I glance behind me. My girl stands beside Roman, flanked by her friends. When she gives me the cutest little wave, my chest tightens.
“Jagger?” the ref prods.
I face him again. “Yeah, we’re clear.”
Satisfied, the ref turns to Morgan. “We clear?”
The asshole stares back at me, his eyes nothing but slits. “Of course. This is only a friendly fight, right?”
Friendly, my ass.
Thankfully, the ref doesn’t buy his bullshit answer, either. A twinge hits the back of his jaw, but he continues. “It’s tap out or pass out. Each with two minute rounds. We go ‘til one of you can’t. Any questions?” He doesn’t wait for either of us to answer. “Touch knuckles.”
I raise my fists. Morgan does the same, brushing our closed fists against each other before we bring them up to protect our faces.
Then, the bell rings.
53
VIOLET
As soon the bell rings, Morgan cocks his arm back, landing a solid right hook to Jagger’s jaw. I swear it penetrates straight through me. Clutching my chest, I lean into Roman’s side, caught between the urge to run the hell out of here and dive onto the mat so I can protect Jagger. Not that it would do either of us any good, but still.
“He’ll be fine,” Roman grunts. “Last time was a fluke.”
It better have been.
Slowly, the two move in a circle, sizing each other up. I can’t decide if I’m grateful for the slight reprieve or if I’d prefer they dive right into the brawl so my nerves can have a break. This whole sitting on pins and needles thing is a bit much for my taste. In a flash, Jagger throws a short, one-two punch but neither of them land the way they should. Ethan bats them away like they’re nothing but a slight annoyance rather than solid attempts. Jagger must be warming up. It makes sense, doesn’t it?
“Come on, Jag!” I call.
Jagger’s body crumples forward as Ethan nails his right side, combining it with a brutal uppercut causing his head to snapback. My stomach lurches on contact, and I bounce on the balls of my feet, unsure what the hell I’m supposed to do.
“Hit him back!” I yell. “Come on, Jagger!”
Arms raised, Jagger does another quick, one-two combo I remember from when we were in the gym together.
“There he is,” Roman mumbles.
