Gold Shimmer (21 page)

“Wait…so when they’re not fighting for this underground outfit, they fight in amateur bouts here in New York?”

She nods. “At any point an amateur fighter could get picked up to go pro, but this secret organization gives them a chance to make some good money in the interim.”

“Illegally,” I add with a bit of censure in my tone. “It’s amazing how those masks protect not just the fighters but the group sponsoring this event.”

Sweeping her hair back over her shoulder, Beth smirks. “Yes, I’m sure that’s a very true statement. You know, you should hire one of these guys to be your bodyguard. I mean, look at him?
No
one is going to mess with you if you had someone like that beside you.”

He’s definitely bulkier than Celeste’s guard. The fighter is halfway down the aisle now, so I can finally see what he’s carrying. As the spotlight following him shines on us too, I have to shield my eyes to make it out. It’s a white carnival-style mask. Just when I start to ask Beth what the mask is for, the bald guy touches the blue-tooth headset on his ear, then immediately narrows his gaze on Celeste’s sister.

“Damnit,” she mutters when he stalks straight for us.

“Come with me,” he says in a clipped tone and grips her arm.

I step out of the line, following him as he leads her away. “Let go of her!” I try to pry his meaty paw off, but Beth pulls my hand free, laughing. “Don’t make a scene, Celeste. My boyfriend’s just pissed that I’m standing here. One of these days he’s not going to catch me. Go get back in line. I’ll be right back.”

Her boyfriend?
Before I can say anything else, the bald guy hands Beth to another security person and she’s escorted into the darkness.

With no ticket for a seat, I step back in line to wait for Beth. Jack Hammer currently has the ladies all stirred up as he makes his way down the line. It’s hard not to roll my eyes at the obvious display of cleavage the girls put on when he walks past them.

Once he sees the tall, well-endowed brunette standing next to the short blonde on my right, he stops and grins. Just as he starts to place his white mask on her, he gives the blonde and me an afterthought glance and then suddenly pauses.

Stepping in front of me, he ignores Big Boob’s angry wail of frustration and slips the mask on my face. Tracing my cheek with his thumb, he tilts my chin up and says, “Meet me after.”

Before I can tell him that I
won’t
be meeting him later, he starts up the stairs. As soon as he steps into the fight cage, the crowd explodes with excitement.

While everyone’s cheering as he raises his arms and circles the ring, getting the audience hyped-up, someone yanks hard on my hair. “Ow!” With unshed tears stinging my eyes, I glare over my shoulder at Busty Girl.

“What are you looking at, midget?” she snaps, her chest puffed out in bully mode.

I narrow my gaze. “Don’t touch me again, or you’ll go home with deflated boobs.”

Sneering, she folds her arms over her fake breasts, but the announcer coming back on the speaker drowns out her words. “And tonight’s next fighter is Steel, aka Fists of Steel. This man has moved up fast in the amateur MMA ranks, his bout stats earning him a coveted spot in Elite Underground Club’s tournament bracket when Ramp, aka Rampage, had to drop out earlier this year.”

While the announcer continues on about the contending fighter standing up at the top of the aisle in black shorts and a black mask, the bald security guy retrieves a stack of round cards the size of a stop sign from one of the men manning the judges’ area right in front of the cage. Handing the angry brunette a card marked with the number one, he says, “Take the first round, ring girl, and stop complaining or you’ll be banned from EUC for good.” Ignoring her unappreciative “ugh”, he gives four other girls the rest of the signs numbered two through five.

Sighing her frustration that she didn’t get picked to be a ring girl either, the blonde next to me whispers in my ear, “Better watch your back. Amanda has had her eye on Jack Hammer all season. The fact he not only picked you over her, but invited you to be with him later…she’ll be after you for stealing him from her.”

I grip her arm. “Wait…
be
with him. As in have sex with him?”

Her blue eyes flutter, appearing extra large on her petite face. “Every once in a while the fighter will ask the girl to stay. That’s code for…he wants you. The rules are super clear though…neither of you can take your masks off. Oh, I’m Tilly by the way.” I start to say my name, but she quickly turns away as the other fighter comes within yelling distance. “Steel, pick me, baby!”

Who would have sex with someone whose face they’ll never see?
This can’t be what Beth intended. She might not be my real little sister, but that’s nuts. I need to talk to her. I try to step out of the line, but a group of girls have crowded behind me in an effort to get a closer look at Steel. I’m forced to stay put while the fighter turns to shake someone’s hand and sign several fans’ tickets. The ink covering his entire back draws my attention, and, just like the girls tittering all around me, I can’t help but stare.

A massive bird’s wing spans between his shoulder blades and around his left shoulder. The black ink feathers unfurl down the left half of his body from the middle of his broad back, around his sinuously muscled arm and along his ribcage. Taking up the entire right side of his back is an amazingly realistic half skull that starts just below the few feathers touching his right shoulder. Deep eye-sockets lead to hollowed-out cheekbones just above a toothy mouth. The impressive ink follows the slabs of muscle along Steel’s lower back before disappearing into his black shorts. The realization that the skull’s chin must curve around the top part of muscular butt cheeks makes my stomach clench in full appreciation. That’s a hell of a tattoo.

I whisper to Tilly, “Someone must know who he is. His tattoos are a work of art and highly memorable.”

She shakes her head in fast jerks. “No one knows. Believe me, I’ve asked. He must’ve gotten tattooed right after he signed up for this years’ EUC tournament and has only fought in those bouts so far. Here he comes!”

The Fists of Steel contender only has a couple inches on Jack Hammer, but his bearing is far more menacing. Unlike Hammer, who obviously likes the showmanship of the fight, this guy holds himself with the presence of a street fighter. Like he’s seen his fair share of no-holds-barred, bare-knuckle fighting.

Pulse thrumming, I fold my fingers around the edge of Jack Hammer’s mask, intending to give it to Tilly. But something about this Steel guy’s intimidating look as he walks down the line of girls makes me decide to leave the flimsy layer of protection on until he passes by and enters the cage.

My heart rate jolts to mock speed when Steel stops in front of me.
Why is he staring at me like a lion about to pounce?
It doesn’t help that the fans are calling out, “He’s looking at your girl, Hammer!”

Hammer walks up to the cage’s closed door and scowls at Steel, a blatant threat in his eyes.
Don’t fucking look at her.

Steel grunts and whisks the white mask off me, tossing it behind him in an open challenge.

The crowd goes wild and Tilly grabs my arm, squealing in my ear. “Oh my God, Hammer’s arguing with the EUC’s official to let him out!”

I hear Tilly, but I can’t look away from the fighter in front of me, nor do I give a flip that Big Boobs Amanda is scrambling to pick up the white mask he dropped. As soon as he took my mask off, Steel’s mouth shifted from a smartass smirk to a thin, hard line.
Why does he look pissed?
Maybe he thought I was better looking under the mask.
I push my shoulders back and tilt my chin up.

Sliding his black carnival mask into place on my face, Steel cups the back of my head and says in a low, harsh rumble, “You’re mine.”

This might be pure entertainment for everyone else—his action ramping the fans while also giving a big “fuck you” to Hammer—but not for me. I rip the mask off and toss it behind me to the gaggle of girls. While the crowd goes even nuttier over my apparent rejection, and the girls squeal and fight over the black mask like a bride’s bouquet, I hold his suddenly narrowed gaze. “No one owns me. Not him. Not you.”

He takes a deep breath, his chest widening as he pulls something from his short’s pocket. Dropping the beaded steel chain around my neck, he rumbles in a coarse tone, “Don’t fucking take this off.”

Anger erupts and I quickly grab the tape-covered metal dangling from the chain. Before I can take it off, Steel pulls my hand free of the necklace and slides his other hand under my hair, touching the back of my neck. The black tape on his hand rubs mine as he presses my fingers to the side of his neck and bites out in a gruff tone just for my ears, “Keep it on. I’m
not
asking.”

With all the shouting going on around us, my self-preservation meter is screaming at me to pull away. But something in the tightness of his hold on my hand draws my attention to his neck. I look up to see two familiar sharp points just above my fingers that he’s pressing against his pulse and my stomach drops.

Calder?

My gaze jerks to his, seeking confirmation to my unspoken recognition. When our eyes meet, I finally reconcile what my mind was too distracted to see a few seconds ago. Calder’s green eyes boring into me, full of anger, judgment, and guarded heat.

Pressing his lips together, he releases me without another word and walks up the stairs and into the cage.

W
hat the hell is she doing here?
My stomach tenses with worry as I glance back. She’s standing there gripping my dog tags, a shocked expression on her face. Something is definitely going on with her, and my life is beyond screwed up, yet I thought for sure she was sincere when we were in the garden together today.

Hearing her say that our connection was as strong as ever was enough to temporarily stave off my questions, but watching her get engaged fifteen minutes later was more shit than I could deal with. Not when this bout was hanging over my head. Everything I’ve worked toward comes down to this fight. I needed space to get my head right, not to mention…I didn’t want her anywhere near this part of my life.

I only intended to rile Hammer by taking whichever ring girl he’d picked. But when I pulled his damn mask off, she’s the last person I expected to see. This is so royally fucked up, but now that she’s in my domain, everyone has to know that she’s mine. No one better fucking touch her.

The second I enter the cage and the door closes, I shutdown the worry slamming through my head and turn to face Hammer.

“You’re dead!” he yells over the screaming crowd. Fury is evident in his tight fists and pinched mouth as he watches the tall brunette wearing his white mask while she saunters the full circle around the outside of the cage, the round number one sign high above her head.

That’s exactly how I want him. Pissed as hell. I’ve worked too damn hard to fuck this up now. He might want the glory, but he’s about to find out I’m far hungrier for this win.

I studied his other fights; Hammer hits hardest when he’s angry. Works for me. I’ve been itching for someone to challenge me enough to make all this bullshit worth the past six months. Her rejection at the party earlier threw me off, but now that she’s here, I’m so damned amped up at the idea of her being there once this event is over.

Hope is a concept I’d given up on. I know it’s illogical to think she’s here for me. She definitely didn’t recognize me in this mask, but a part of me can’t help but believe her being here wasn’t just a coincidence. The powerful combination of protectiveness and hope are a jolt of pure adrenaline to my system. Pounding this prick into the mat will be the perfect release for me. I jam my mouth guard in and pull on my gloves.