Hurts So Good (8 page)

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Authors: Jenika Snow

BOOK: Hurts So Good
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“Dude, at least put on a show,
make
them think this is one of the times you just want to get your ass handed to you.” Tanner was a friend, but he also was in this game for the money. Mack didn’t bother telling him that this was
his
fight, and he would handle it the way he wanted to, because the look he gave the other man had him raising his hands in defeat, letting out a string of curse words, and turning toward the door. He opened it, spoke to someone right on the other side, and then closed it again. “It’s a full house out there tonight, and the money’s rolling in.” Mack was all about getting paid for these fights, but tonight he couldn’t care less. He wanted to knock someone’s head off, didn’t care if they got severely hurt in the process, and was more than ready to have the opponents lining up. He could go all night, and that was his intention until he was too exhausted and he crashed for the next twelve hours. He just kept seeing that image of Jane kissing that
fuckwad
, over and over again, until his knuckles ached from clenching his hands so hard, and he was ready to get in the cage. He stood, flexed his arms, and bounced on the balls of his feet.

“Let’s just get this shit rolling.” Mack ground his teeth and glared at Tanner when it looked like he might say something. “You worry about the fucking money and who is going in the cage with me, and I’ll worry about the fucking rest. Sound good?” He said the last part in a hard tone, and it was a rhetorical question because he sure as fuck didn’t expect an answer.

“What the fuck ever, man.” Tanner started cursing under his breath again, but turned and started talking to one of the big fuckers he normally brought with him as security.

Mack headed toward the scarred door, pulled it open, and took a moment to stare at the crowd. Tanner hadn’t been kidding when he said it was a full house. The bodies were shoulder-to-shoulder, and the scent of sweat and booze filled the air. Some people saw him standing there and started going crazy in their excitement. Tonight they were about to see a lot of blood cover the mat.

****

Jane knew the smell was something she would never get used to, no matter how long she was in the rundown, decrepit building. The stench of body odor, spilled beer, and sex filled the air, slammed into her nose like a freight train, and wasn’t stopping its onslaught anytime soon. She had followed Taylor into the building, where she had been exempt from paying the astronomical cover charge because Taylor had told the bouncer, “She is with me.” He had steered her toward the front where a crudely erected cage stood, one where chain-link made up the walls, and the mat, which looked like it had once been white, was a nasty shade of off-white, with splatters of rust colored stains on it. She swallowed roughly, instantly knowing what those stains were.

The people were packed into the basement of the building like sardines in a can, but they didn’t seem to care that there was hardly any breathing room. Their hands were raised, their beers sloshing over the rims of their plastic red cups, and their voices were so loud in unison that it was earsplitting. Jane felt like she was in some kind of culture shock. The people that surrounded her were like a different breed. They kept chanting for blood, broken bones, and violence. Was Mack somewhere in the crowd, wanting to see what was clearly an illegal fight? No way could she find him, and Taylor had disappeared well over ten minutes ago after he had all but deposited her near the front of the cage next to one of the beefy, frightening looking security guys. Through the parting people—swaying as if they were a living ocean, moving with the current—Jane had spotted several closed doors in the far back of the room. Taylor might have gone through one of them, or maybe he was somewhere in the crowd. But why leave her here when she was more than likely to be trampled to death when the fighters came out? As it was they were already about to charge toward the cage. God, it didn’t matter, because all she wanted to do was see Mack and get out of here in one piece, but she didn’t see how that was going to work seeing as there was no damn way she could find him in here.

The sound of a speaker turning on, and of static filling the air, had the noise level dropping to about half, but still it was damn loud in here. “Well, look at all you
motherfuckas
’.” The crowd went wild once more, and Jane clutched her purse to her chest as she was pushed forward from behind. “Full house we got tonight, but then again you are in for one fuckin’ show.” There was a string of screams from the females in the crowd. “That’s right, ladies. I bet your panties are all fucking wet for the Russian with the rep for his one hit KO,
right
?” The announcer screamed the last word, and Jane was shoved forward once again, this time so forcefully that she fell forward, connected the side of her face with the edge of the cage, and felt her skin part. A hiss of pain left her, but she righted herself so people didn’t start stepping all over her, cupped her cheek, and forced her tears from the pain to not fall. Damn, she hadn’t even been here for twenty minutes, and already she was hurt. She backed up until she was several feet from the cage, and people filled in the gap. She just needed to get the hell out of here. She would try to talk to Mack another time. This place was definitely not her scene. But the crowd surged forward once more, and she had to brace her hands on the back that was in front of her or she would have fallen on her face once again. The guy that had inadvertently stopped her fall turned around, gripped her arm to steady her, and leaned in.

“Shit, you okay?” She pulled away from him and nodded. He glanced at her face and grimaced. “Damn, got a cut on your face, but it looks like the bleeding as already stopped.” She nodded and reached into her purse for a tissue. After dabbing the cut she shoved the dirty tissue in her bag and knew she had been stupid to come here in the first place. The speaker crackled once more, and she knew the announcer was about to say something that would get this crowd rowdy.

“I can’t hear you. Are you ready to see the Russian that can knock a motherfucker on his ass in one brutal hit?” The crowd screamed like lunatics.

Jane’s heart was pounding like a frantic beat of a drum, but it wasn’t because she nearly face planted once again, although it sure as hell should have been the reason. It was because the announcer had said a Russian was going to fight. This was the second time she had heard the announcer say that, but the first time her mind had clearly been so pre-occupied with other things that she hadn’t connected the dots. She may not have heard Mack’s name, but she knew without a doubt it was he who would be getting in the cage. “I’ve never seen you here before.” The guy in front of her hadn’t moved, and in fact came a bit closer to her. He was shouting to be heard over the yelling, but she didn’t comment on the fact how in the hell he would have seen her here any other time with all these people around even if this wasn’t her first time here.

“If you want to see the Russian, I better hear some fuckin’
noiseeeeeeee
.” The announcer dragged out that word, and it reminded her of boxing matches when the guy would hold the microphone and get all dramatic before the fighters came out. The sound went up ten decibels, and she zeroed in on the cage. She spotted the crowd parting on the left, and her heart stalled in her chest, but when she noticed it wasn’t Mack she exhaled so heavily she sagged forward. The guy that climbed into the cage looked Hispanic in origin, and that was verified when he turned and she saw his back. A large Mexican flag was tattooed in vibrant red and green on the muscular expanse.

“Have you seen the Russian fight before?” She looked over at the guy that seemed intent on keeping a conversation with her. His light hair was on the longer side, and brushing the tops of his ears. He had a kind of “surfer boy” look going on, and when she really looked at him he appeared a bit out of place compared to the other people here, especially with his linen button down shirt and Dockers. She shook her head because she wasn’t about to yell just to be heard. “Oh, man, you’re in for something than. He knocks guys out with one hit. Well, when he isn’t letting them kick his ass into the ground.” Jane knitted her brows. She leaned in so she wouldn’t have to scream to be heard.

“What do you mean lets them kick his ass?”

He shrugged. “The guy is a fucking beast, like a realistic Hulk, minus the green and all that. But he has to be a sadist fuck.”

“What do you mean?” She looked at the cage once more and saw the Hispanic fighter was still bouncing around the cage and getting the crowd worked up, but there were a hell of a lot more “boos” coming from them than cheers.

“Some fights he throws this insane right hook and knocks the other guys out cold. But there are some other fights where he lets them kick his ass. I mean
really
kick his ass until he is all bloody and shit on the mat and half-conscious. He won’t even fight back. It’s fucking crazy.” The booing went to chanting and female screams, and Jane turned and looked at the cage. The other fighter took a step back and positioned himself in one of the corners. The crowd on the left hand side parted, and that was when she saw
him
, the man that she had left broken behind all of those years ago, the one she was still in love with even though it had been a decade, and the big Russian that had her mouth drying, her throat closing, and her pussy growing wet instantly. She stared at him as he made his way to the cage, his expression hard and trained at the ground. He had been big at the age of eighteen, but now he really was the Hulk. There was no doubt he could break necks with the tightening of his massive hands. People were trying to move forward, closer to the cage so they had a prime shot of all the violence that was soon to happen. Surfer Boy wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him, but Jane was far too stunned and enamored at the sight of Mack to push Blondie away. God, he had changed, yet he hadn’t. Now, he had the body of a man, a powerful, hardened, and so damn raw physique that she could see why the female population in this shithole was screaming like their panties were on fire. He was taller, with wide, hard shoulders, pectoral muscles that were clearly defined, and an abdomen looked like something that had been
Photoshopped
it was so perfectly sculpted. He lifted his head and focused his attention on the other fighter as he climbed into the cage. Some of the women closer to the cage reached out, trying to touch him, but he shrugged them off and didn’t break his steely concentration. A shiver worked up her spine at seeing Mack this way. He had been rough before, protecting her when he thought other guys at school were a threat, but this … this Mack was something totally different. He was feral and deadly, and she actually feared for the sequence of events that were about to take place. Moving her eyes over his ripped body and back up to his face she took in his strong, square jaw, straight nose, eyes that looked darker than she remembered, and his black hair that was cut short to his head. For a moment, just one second it was like there was nothing else separating
them,
and no one else was in the room but the two of them. The noises faded away, and the only thing she could hear was the sound of her beating heart pounding in a fast, yet rhythmic tattoo in her ears.

A bell rang, and she swore she could feel the damn thing right down to her very toes it was so powerful. The Hispanic fighter started bouncing on his feet with his bare fists up by his face. He came after Mack, but her Russian stayed still. She saw the way he followed every single one of his opponent’s moves. His body looked relaxed, but she could tell he was anything but. The rage on his face was like nothing she had ever seen before, and although she had seen him upset after his parents passed away, this was a different emotion, a different rage, and one that she felt connected with, yet couldn’t understand why. The guy swung at Mack, but he dodged it easily enough. He swung out again, and again, and she didn’t understand why he was so clearly toying with him, but right when she thought that a very frightening look covered Mack’s face right before he reared his right arm back and slammed his fist into the other fighter’s face. Everyone seemed to grow deathly quiet as the Hispanic man spun around from the force of Mack’s hit, and landed face first on the stained mat. The air stilled for only a millisecond before all hell broke loose and the screams and cheers erupted. Jane felt lightheaded as she looked at the still, bloody body at Mack’s feet, and then lifted her eyes to the man she knew she still loved. The fight had only taken minutes, if that. The emotions moving through her were intense. Love, fear, amazement, and arousal pumped through her veins powerfully. All of the feelings had been buried deep inside of her, but all it had taken for them to resurface at an astounding rate was one look at him after all this time.

“They will probably bring another guy for him to pound, but that will be a minute before they can find someone with big enough balls to go up against The Russian when it’s clear he’s in a foul as fuck knock-out mood.” Surfer Boy took hold of her hand, and before she could say or do anything he was pulling her toward the back of the building.

“Hey, stop. What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He was slow-moving in pulling her forward because the crowd was so thick and she was dragging her feet trying to stop him, but Jane wasn’t about to go anywhere with this asshole.

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