Page 81 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

Crash furrows his brow.

“Why not?” Crash and I chime together.

“I told them if they didn’t call this fight fair, they’d be trying to walk out of here on two broken legs. I let ‘em know my men aren’t afraid to take the trash out even though those pricks”—he gestures to the sea of polos on the other side of the cage—“thought they could buy it. Then I heard the ref tell the others when he agreed to this, he didn’t know the other fighter was in a motorcycle club, and fifty thousand wasn’t enough to risk pissing the club off.”

“Oh, thank God.” Before I think better of it, I hug Cole in a tight squeeze. “Thank you.”

He seems surprised but gives me an unsure pat on the back. “Sure thing, darlin. Can’t have one of our boys getting injured by some cheating scum.”

The fight starts up again, and the men dance around each other, giving quick jabs.

Holt kicks out, landing a powerful blow to Marcus’ chest, knocking him backward.

Marcus steps forward again, dodging another blow. He ducks and jabs Holt twice in his ribs and then pops another one across his jaw. Holt staggers back, and Marcus advances, keeping at him. With a powerful kick, Marcus knocks Holt to the ground, and is on him before he has a chance to get up. They’re a tangle of body parts again, each grappling to put the other in a hold. Holt grabs Marcus’s wavy curls and yanks his head back.

The ref immediately calls the foul.

Holt stops and looks at the ref questioningly, then turns and glances to his corner man, who shakes his head and shrugs. Looks like they just figured out this game’s being called fair now.

Marcus moves forward. He lands punch after punch, barely taking any in return. He spins and kicks, connecting with Holt’s side. Holt swings a punch back. Marcus pounds his fist into Holt’s face. The force sends him to the ground, where he goes still. Marcus moves forward to continue his assault, but the ref waves his arms and ends the match.

“He knocked Holt out cold!” I blurt.

Cheers erupt from the biker side.

Holt stirs, and his cornerman comes to his aide.

I run past the crowd and climb into the octagon. Wrapping my arms around Marcus’s waist, I kiss him to roars from the crowd.

He pulls his head back and stares into my eyes. “There’s my sexy baby.”

I don’t care if we have an audience. All I want to do is kiss away every bruise, every hurt that cheating piece of shit placed on Marcus. I pull his face to mine, kissing him passionately. Then I separate and gently tilt his head so I can inspect the damage done. Close up I can see the blood streaking out from his iris and almost completely covering his whites. But he doesn’t look like some injured lamb. If anything, he looks more dangerous. There’s also some bruising along his cheekbone, which I lightly kiss.

“Mmm, babe. Keep that up, and I’ll take you right here, right now,” he growls.

I give him a tempting smile.

His eyes shift over my shoulder. I turn to see Holt approaching.

“Good match.” He reaches out as if he plans to shake hands. Before he gets close enough, I slap him across the face with all the force I can muster. He twists slowly, his eyes turning black in anger, his cheek already reddening into my handprint.

“You cheating piece of shit. You could have seriously hurt him,” I yell.

Holt, in a blind rage, rears his hand back. I raise my arm to block the hit I know is coming, but Marcus moves with lightning speed, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him to the ground.

“Don’t you dare threaten Brandy,” he grits out between his teeth.

Holt gasps for breath and claws at Marcus’ grip.

“You ever look at her again, and I will end you.”

Holt’s face turns purple as he continues to fight for air.

I’m about to step in, afraid Marcus will kill him right here in front of everyone, but he lets Holt go and stands. Then he looks down at him with disgust and spits on his face.

I grab Marcus’s hand and pull him to the edge of the cage. That’s when I notice several brothers have halfway crawled into the ring. It dawns on me they were moving in to attack when Holt threatened me. Their desire to protect me warms my heart. I feel like they view me as one of their own. I smile thanks at them as we climb out. They nod in return.

We move farther from the cage and the crowd, and Marcus pulls me to a back room.

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