Page 86 of No Mercy

As we rise to our feet, Gabriel’s fight song, “Bawitdaba” by Kid Rock, blares through the sound system. Rowdy grabs my hand and nods to the silhouette of man eating up the space around him as he steps from the shadows and into the spotlight. My gaze zips to the jumbotron above our heads. Gabriel’s fierce glare from under his brow as he looks up with his chin down, sends tingles down my spine. He’s ready to devour, and it looks like Killer González is on the menu this evening.

As the world goes crazy around me, my focus narrows, only seeing my man making his way down the aisle to pass right by our seats. When he nears, his ferocious gaze locks on me as if he knew right where’d I’d be and that I’d be watching. Of course he did.

My pulse pounding to the beat of the music in anticipation, I bite my lower lip. His eyes drop. His nostrils flare, and then he kisses his fingers sticking out of his fingerless gloved hand, says something I can’t make out, and raises his fist to the heavens. All the while, his eyes never leave mine.

When he passes, he looks back over his shoulder, his head low. Eyes on me, he winks and mouths, “Wife.” His smirk is gone as soon as it appears. Then he’s all business, looking ahead, bounding up the stairs to strip down to his tight-fitting shorts, flexing and spinning for all the world to see his avenging angel tattoo on his back and a muscled body, sculpted to perfection.

The crowd goes crazy, and I nearly pass out.

MY ANGEL IS HOT AS FUCKsitting in my row with my mom and sister near and my guys surrounding them. My pack is strong. My mojo is on fire. And my destiny is in my grasp.

In the octagon, I bounce on my feet, shaking my arms to stay loose as I watch my girl out of the corner of my eye. My body responds to her heated gaze as she tracks my movements. I punch out puffs of air, calming my cock, and draw the blood to where it’s needed. But damn, my woman is gonna feel me tonight.

The current champ makes his way to the octagon. I don’t grant him the privilege of my eyes, or the acknowledgment of his existence as they announce our fight, calling my name, listing my stats and then his. I hope he was listening, as it’s the last time they’ll say he’sthe current reigning and defending heavyweight champion.

After tonight, those words belong to me.

I catch sight of my girl before the ref calls us over. She’s holding her hands to keep from fidgeting. I know she’s worried. I don’t think for a second her worry is about my skills or ability to win. This is about thewhat ifsshe has running in her head. It’s not only me or her any longer. We’ve got a little one to consider. To look out for. To plan for. She doesn’t want to do it alone. She will if she has to. She’s a rock. But she’d rather not. She wants our family safe and sound as much as I do. And in the last six months, she’s been in the hospital twice. She knows life can change in a split second. A fucked-up boyfriend. A fall down the stairs. A kick to the head. She knows unexpected things can happen when you least expect it.

I know it too.

But not tonight.

I’m here to claim my title.

Then grab my destiny by the balls by marrying my Angel.

The bell rings. I shake it all loose, charging before Killer even catches his breath and land the first of many blows he’ll come to regret.

“Breathe, Frankie.” Sloan leans over. “We made it through two rounds. He’s doing great. By the numbers alone, if he doesn’t knock him out, Gabriel is sure to win by a majority decision.”

Rowdy joins our conversation, amped up and excited. “He’s barely even gotten hit. He’s taken a few on his legs and sides, but not a single punch or hit to the head or face. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I told him I didn’t want to see him get hit,” I share as I watch Coach and Jonah work on him, feed him water, and talk strategy in the short break between rounds. I glance at Sloan and Rowdy when their excited chatter stops. “What?”

Rowdy laughs. “You asked him not to get hit?”

“No.” Of course not. “He wanted to know why I was so nervous. I told him I wasn’t sure I could sit here and watch him get hit.” I look between them. “I’ve watched hundreds of fights, but tonight feels different.”

“What’d he say?” Sloan asks.

“He’d do all the hitting, then.”

They sit back, laughing. “I guess it’s a strategy that’s working for him.” Sloan shakes his head in amazement. “That’s near impossible, you know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

Rowdy squeezes my hand. “He’ll be fine, Frankie. But if he does get hit, don’t freak out. If you lose it, so will he, trying to get to you.”

For some crazy reason, the idea loosens the knot in my gut and brings a smile to my lips. I’d love to see him climb over the fence—bypassing the gate altogether—and come to my rescue. Showing me he’s just fine. I don’t want him to lose. But the idea of him being safe by my side and no longer fighting is no small thing either.

I jump when the bell rings, signaling the beginning of the third round. Gabriel comes at his opponent like he’s not even winded, getting him in a grappling hold and flipping him over, body slamming him like a sack of flour and leaving Killer splayed out on the mat. Gabriel bounces on his feet, giving his opponent time to get up.

Killer, on the other hand, is more than winded. He’s bleeding from a cut above his eye and one on his cheek from a spinning wheel kick that nearly took him out in the last round. But it’s the cut lip he received in the first seconds of the match that shocked everyone. Gabriel punched him so hard, his head fell back, and he swayed for a few beats before regaining his wits. For a moment, it seemed like Gabriel would win by KO with only one punch thrown.

Killer has been on the defensive ever since. Gabriel’s offense is too superior to offset. It’s only a matter of time. Gabriel is playing with him, biding his time before he goes in for the kill. I know it. The guys know it. Only I don’t think it’s registered in Killer’s mind. He’s about to lose his title.

Just when I’m starting to feel cocky, like Gabriel’s got it in the bag, I catch his eye and instead of moving on, he locks on me. He doesn’t see Killer moving in.

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