Page 80 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

“Clearly, some people have been bought to make sure Holt wins.”

“Holt wouldn’t do that,” I whisper in disbelief.

“You sure about that?” Crash asks, pinning me with a look, then motions to the cage. “Well, someone did. Because they’re not calling shit, and even with the fouls, Marcus bested that asshole, but they gave the win to Holt. It’s laughable how rigged this fight is.”

My eyes widen. He’s right—about all of it. I turn to the fight in progress, seeing—perhaps for the first time—just how crooked men of Holt’s status can be. I glance around at his polo-wearing friends. They’re all smirking, like they share a sick joke.

The sound of fists hitting flesh draws my attention to the cage.

Holt jabs Marcus in the side. Marcus returns the favor with a kick to Holt’s ribs. Marcus then gets two quick jabs in Holt’s face. I can see the swelling from here. Suddenly, they are tangled up again. Marcus puts Holt in a chokehold, but there’s plenty of time left in the round. The place erupts, the brothers cheering him on, but soon the cheering turn to roars of disapproval.

Holt grabs Marcus, jabbing him in the eye.

Marcus immediately releases his hold.

“Call something! That’s an eye gouge,” Cole roars.

Marcus holds his palm to his left eye. Holt charges at him, but Marcus dodges, giving two right jabs to Holt’s rib cage. Holt kicks out and connects with Marcus’s left side.

They grab at each other’s necks. I can’t really tell what’s going on, but then I see Marcus flip Holt over. Suddenly they’re on the ground. and Marcus has Holt’s arm outstretched and pulled back.

“He’s got him!” Crash cheers.

“What?” I ask excitedly.

“He’s got him in an arm bar. Holt’s about to tap out or get a broken arm.”

Cheers erupt as Holt clearly taps out.

With a wave of the ref’s arm, the round goes to Marcus.

“Yeah!” I cheer.

When Marcus stands, his eye is much more visible. It’s swollen, and the part I can see is so red that no white of the eye can be seen.

“Oh my God,” I gasp.

Crash turns to me before he climbs in to the octagon to act as cornerman. “The ref has to start calling these fouls, or he’s going to get seriously hurt.”

“He already looks pretty hurt to me,” Melissa whispers from my other side.

Fear tightens my chest. Marcus could get seriously hurt over me, and he already has me. I know his pride won’t let him back down, even if he is climbing an uphill battle against a bunch of cheating assholes.

CHAPTER TWENTY – DOWN FOR THE COUNT

Brandy—

I still can’t believe Holt would stoop so low as to cheat to win the fight, but the evidence is right in front of me. Crash holds a wet towel to Marcus’ swollen eye, whispering hurriedly to him.

“Fuck this. This cheating bullshit ends now.” Cole moves toward where the judges sit at a long folding table.

The ref is leaned over, whispering to them and seems taken aback when Cole smacks him on the back and says something to the group. We are too far to hear what’s said, but I don’t miss the wide eyes or the blood that drains from the judges’ faces.

Cole and Crash make it back to where I stand at about the same time.

“God, I hope Marcus can end this quick, or he’s going to get seriously injured.” Crash runs his hand along his jawline.

“Shouldn’t be a problem anymore.” Cole smirks.

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