He climbed into the ring, barely listening to anything the ref announced. He came forward, shook Hal’s hand and waited for the whistle, his entire world focused on that sound alone. His adrenaline kicked into overdrive and he couldn’t stand still—he needed to get to her, and fast. And this psycho was standing in his way.
He barely waited for the ref’s whistle, charged ahead when he heard it and bulldozed the man in his solar plexus with the top of his skull. Ears ringing, he stood as Hal remained doubled over. Reid grabbed the back of Hal’s head, pulled it up and then brought it down full force on his knee, hearing the crack of the man’s nose.
Hal fell to his knees and Reid kicked him viciously in the back, near his kidneys. He’d be pissing blood for days. Reid had been the recipient of those blows himself.
When Hal raised his head, he was smiling. This could go on all night—like Hal said, it would be a hell of a show—but Reid was too worried about them moving Grier to concentrate. And that would get him hurt worse than he was before he entered the ring.
Reid watched the giant man bounce on the balls of his feet as the crowd cheered. If he could’ve reasoned with the guy, asked him to take a fall, he would’ve. But fighting here was all about the fighter’s standing. And standing equaled money.
Reid would make sure Hal got some.
“I’m going to go down,” Reid told him in his ear.
“You bet you are.”
Reid didn’t care if he didn’t understand. When he swung again, Reid moved slightly so the blow would catch him and then he went down onto the mat, the fucking giant body slamming him. Fucking overkill.
Reid managed to keep his eyes shut and his body loose, and after several minutes, the ref called the fight and heavy hands picked Reid up. He wondered if they’d simply dump him into the street or if they had a room where they let the fighters actually wake up.
* * *
After the win, she watched two men she didn’t recognize come into the ring to carry the unconscious woman away. The ref came up beside Grier and lifted one of her arms in the air. She heard mainly boos and wanted to truly punch the ref in the face for his involvement in all of this.
When he let go of her hand, her trainer helped Grier out, patted her on the back and Grier stumbled, held on to the wall behind her. They were supposed to bring her back downstairs, she supposed. What they would’ve done had she lost, she shuddered to think about. But she’d won. Against a champion. She was on people’s radar.
They wouldn’t be killing her anytime soon, but what was their plan?
“Tonight’s the rookie’s lucky night.”
She thought they were talking about her, but when she caught sight of the ring, she knew.
Reid. He was bare-chested, a fire in his eyes, his hair under a black bandanna. He was fighting a monster of a man. Fighting for her.
Reid was here for her. Saving her again.
And you don’t deserve it worth a damn.
Her throat tightened and her eyes stung with tears and it had nothing to do with the pain she was in.
“Come on, Tara Lynn,” the bouncer said, grabbed her arm. “Mark’s happy—he made a lot of money off you.”
“So glad to be of service. I’d like to be paid in cash.”
“Let’s go.”
“I want to watch the rest of the fights,” she told him. “I’m too hurt to run from you—where the hell am I going to go? Don’t touch me or I’ll make a scene.”
“I’m really worried about that.”
“You should be.” She moved the knife to where he could see it, mere inches from his side. She could easily bury it there and he knew it.
His eyes widened and he backed off a little. “Don’t think when the fight is over I won’t take that from you.”
“Counting on it,” she murmured low enough so he didn’t hear, her eyes focused on the ring in front of her, the knife poised at the ready.
She’d seen Reid fight before. Seen him hurt too. But the crowd was screaming. They wanted a fight to the death and she wanted to put her hands over her eyes. But she was compelled to watch, because he was there for her.
He was taking down the big man easily, and even though his opponent was getting back up, she knew it had to be because Reid was holding back. He’d told her as much, that he didn’t get into random bar fights any longer because he couldn’t. That was part of his oath, his creed. Simply put, he was stronger than most and could do far more damage in fewer moves. Permanent damage.
She saw the bigger man take a swing, and her heart went into her throat when Reid didn’t move away or duck or take the advantage he had of kicking behind the man’s knee. Instead of fighting, Reid was down, the bigger man on him.
She’d seen Reid fight before—and she was the only one here who knew he was going down on purpose. For her.
It was a blur until the ref called the fight and then Reid was being dragged away.
* * *
It felt like he’d been run over. In effect, Reid had—twice in the past two weeks. He had marks on his leather jacket and fractured ribs to prove the first time, and now his ribs were worse and his entire body screamed for relief.
He let the bouncer half carry him until they got just beyond the locker room door. Then Reid straightened. “Dude, I’m okay. . . gotta go.”
“No one leaves until all the fights are done.”
“Okay. Wanna watch.”
“Doc’s gotta check you out first. House rules.”
The bouncer went to grab him—Reid feigned left, kicked the man’s knee out from behind and locked him down with an arm across his throat. “Fuck. Your. Rules.”
He knocked the
