Page 85 of Pulse
After Ash’s spectacular return to the cage as Maverick, The Underground was buzzing. There was an electricity in the air that I hadn’t felt since those first few weeks I’d spent here with him and it filled my veins and sparked in my soul. It gave me the kick start I desperately needed to dive headfirst into the game once more.
Sitting in the fighter’s section of the bleachers, I watched Ash squaring off against his rival in the cage. Fight number two and he was way more confident this time. It was like I’d told him. There was no way he could forget. He was stronger than everything.
There was a whoosh of air as a bulky body sat next to me and I flinched, jerking away at the sudden movement.
“Settle down,Darlin’,” Hamish, aka The Goblin, declared. “I ain’t gunna bite.”
My heart thumped in my chest before settling back into its usual rhythm. “Don’t fucking do that.”
“Ash asked me to hang out with you,” he said in his thick Irish accent.
I scowled. “Did he just.”
“He’s justlookin’ out for you Reign, no need to get your knickers in a twist.”
I rolled my eyes and turned back to the fight, watching Ash and his opponent circle each other. He wouldn’t know if I was watching or not, he was always single minded when he was in the cage, but no doubt he’d quiz me on it later and Hamish was ruining my vibe.
“That man is a bloody prodigy.”
I knew Hamish meant to say prodigy, but his accent made it sound like he’d said ‘proodjee’.
I knew that Ash could’ve fought in the pro leagues, gone overseas and been in the running to be a world champ. He had everything that it took and then some, but he’d never mentioned much about his short-lived stint in the AUFC. I didn’t even know if that’s what he’d wanted. I made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Anyway, fighting wasn’t the kind of career that was long term. He would’ve made his money and then what? What would I’ve done when I was either too old or sidelined by an injury to keep on keeping on? I had absolutely no idea.
I reckon I’d keep on fighting while I still had the chance.
“Why didn’t you ever try for the pro leagues?” I asked Hamish. The crowd surged around us as Ash landed another hit on his opponent, but we were safe from being jostled up on the bleachers.
Hamish clapped with the crowd, watching his competition in the cage. “I never liked rules,” he said with a wink. “They would’ve kicked me out in the first round formouthin’ off.”
“So you prefer slumming it with the rabble rather than the bright lights?”
Hamish laughed. “There are better payouts here. Less scrutiny. The regulations aren’t strict. No off season.”
“So you just want to beat people up for money?”
“Somethin’ like that.”
“Where’s the skill in that?”
“There’s skill in everything, Reign. Even violence. You of all people should understand that.”
Fuck, did I understand it. Skill was what got fighter’s through to the end without tapping, not brawn. Brawn was nothing unless you could back it up with the brains.
“That pretty blonde publicist,” Hamish said, his eyes sparkling. “The one that came here one night, can you do somethin’ about that?”
“Josie?” I asked, my eyebrows rising.
“She’s a pretty one, to be sure.”
I looked him up and down. “You saw her once. A year ago.”
“I’ve seen her around since then, Reign. A man never forgets a pretty face.”
“I’m sure you don’t,” I drawled.
