Page 58 of Bound By Flames
My heart stops.
The crowd roars, but it’s different now, lower, more hesitant. As if the momentum was turning. And I suddenly get it. Ares isn’t fighting to offer the guy to settle his debt. He’s fighting to show his men and all the others here tonight why he’s the boss and why he’s the only one made for that position. This is so much more than just a fight.
He needs to win.
Not out of pride but out of necessity. If I learned anything from being the daughter of the boss of the Irish Mafia, it’s that your men on the ground won’t move a finger or take a bullet for you if they don’t respect you. I know because my father used to have a hard time getting proper results with his chain of command.
Come on, Ares, show them.
The round ends, with only the ring of the bell and they separate, breathing heavily, eyes locked on each other. Ares is bleeding from one brow, and his chest rises and falls rapidly. Theguy from his corner, Tank, is giving him a pack of ice to shove on his forehead.
“Where’s the referee?” I urge Ash. “Why isn’t he there?”
Ash shakes his head. “It’s not a rules type of fight, Mrs Malone. Only two rounds.”
“But—but how do they know when it ends?”
“It’s—” he glances at me, his jaw clenching, “it ends when it ends.”
“What—”
I’m interrupted by the bell of the ring, turning my face to my husband like a magnet. He charges forward, sending two hard hits into the guts of the guy whose face is twisting with pain.
Good, take the upper hand. You got this.
But the Canadian guys seem to handle pain better than I thought and absorbs the blows before hitting Ares in the face, blood dripping from his eyebrows like a faucet. Ares throws a kick, but the guy catches his leg and slams him to the ground.
No, no, no, no.
Erin’s hand grabs mine as if she can feel my fear, all of us staring at the cage before us while I hear Ash muttering curse words. Before I can even process what’s happening, the Canadian guy is on top of Ares, pinning him down, his massive arms wrapping around Ares' neck. He’s choking him. My heart races, panic clawing at my throat, and my fingers start to tingle. I bite my lower lip so hard it hurts. Just as I’m about to stand up and shout at him to stop the fight, Erin’s hand stops me, pushing my thigh down and whispering to me.
“I know, girl, but if you do, he will appear weak.” Her eyes narrow on me with a genuine sad smile. I know she’s right, but…it’s unbearable to watch. He’s struggling, trying to pry the guy’s arms off, but it’s not enough. The guy's arms squeeze him tighter, his skin color turning a darker shade of red. The noiseof the crowd fades, and all I can hear is my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
He’s going to die. Right here. In front of me.
When we barely had enough time to argue and spend time together.
Then, just when I think it’s over, Ares' eyes flash open and stare at me for half a second. His gaze turns wild and lethal, his emerald pupils burning into me with intensity. Wild, raw, and unforgiving.
The gaze of a man who has lived a hundred lives and battled a thousand wars.
The eye of a fighter who never gives up.
Turning his body to the guy, Ares slams his elbow into his ribs over and over again until the grip loosens. He bends his body, forcing his way out from under him. And the crowd erupts as Ares gets back to his feet, his face twisted in a mix of rage and determination. Hopping on his feet with an unhinged look at his opponent, like a mad man with no limits. I don’t know if I should be scared of him, of his mind, and the way he seems eager to end the guy in front of him. I feel like I should be scared of him, but…
“Fuck yeah!” shouts Ash, his palms around his mouth like a speaker phone.
Ares’s gaze is locked on the guy on the ground, his fists raining down in a brutal, unrelenting assault. Each punch lands with a sickening thud, and even from where I’m standing, it’s clear the man won’t be getting up again. He’s barely conscious, and Ares seems driven by something primal, something beyond reason. His face is contorted with a fierce, almost feral intensity.
The crowd’s roar is a thunderous backdrop, their chants merging into a chaotic symphony of “ARES! ARES! ARES!” It’s loud, but it feels distant, muffled by the force of the scene unfolding before me. I can barely think. The blood, the crumpled body, Ares’s relentless fury.
Stop, please, just look at me and stop.
Without thinking twice about it, I stand up like I’ve been pulled by an invisible string, stepping toward the cage, the noise disappearing until I’m in my own bubble of silence. My legs tremble, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop. I reach the cage, and I grab the metal walls with a grip so tight my fingers dig into the cold, unyielding metallic surface. I don’t make a sound, but I stare through the bars, my eyes locked on him.
Look at me.
It’s as if, at that moment, the entire world narrows down to just the two of us. I can’t explain it, but I’m certain he’s aware of me, even through the haze of adrenaline and violence. Like my presence has wrapped around him, an invisible thread pulling at his consciousness.
