I want to murder Bodhi Black. I can’t help it.No one makes my man bleed without consequences.
My bloodthirstiness doesn’t surprise me. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for Gabriel, and seeing him hurt is enough to fuel me to do things I’ve never considered before.
“Fuck. That didn’t look good,” Harlow whispers, whipping around to look at Kelsey and Jon. “Am I right? It’s bad to end the round on the bottom getting beat up, isn’t it?”
I turn just in time to catch Jon’s grim expression.He thinks Gabriel’s losing this fight.
Instead of fear wrapping around me like vines, determination fills my veins. I find my faith.
“It doesn’t matter. He’s going to win. He’s going to end this fight just like he did the last time he fought Bodhi. Don’t you dare count him out,” I say, leaving absolutely no room for argument.
Kelsey’s lips curve into a smile. “I believe you, babe. He can do it.” She elbows Jon. “Right?”
Jon shrugs and nods. “Yeah. I mean, anything can happen in the cage. But he’s down at least one round, maybe two. He’s gotta end him in this round or ...”
He doesn’t need to finish his sentence for all of us to know exactly what’s on the line. Gabe has to either get Bodhi in a submission hold or knock him out before the next bell rings in order to win this fight.
Come on, stud. You’ve got this. Five more minutes to make it count.
Fifty-Two
Legend
“Slow and steady.That’s right. Breathe,” Jeb says as he shoves a bag of ice behind my back.
I anchor my elbows on my knees as they work on my face, trying to stop the bleeding.
Bodhi is strong as fuck, and his hands feel like they’ve been dipped in cement.
I knew his power coming into this. I expected it. It’s just been a long fucking time since I’ve been hit that hard.
He caught me. There’s no fucking doubt about it. That right cross rocked me and put me right on my ass.
“Everyone’s got a plan until they get punched in the mouth.”Mike Tyson’s quote has never been truer than it is right now.
“There’s a good fucking chance you’re down two rounds, Gabe. This is it. You gotta finish him before the bell.”
“I know. I know.” I say the words between long, slow breaths, pausing as Jeb squirts water in my mouth.
“He’s not gassing out like I thought. He must’ve known you were going to try to tire him out, so he got his cardio up. That’s not like him, but it means we gotta readjust. You got plenty of gas in the tank. You take him down and you submit him.”
Jeb has never steered me wrong before, and I can’t blame him for misjudging Bodhi’s cardio. The man looks too big to be able to sustain a fast pace for all three rounds, or at least he always has been. But Bodhi’s clearly got a fuck of a lot on the line here tonight too, or he’s fueled with the power of hate.
I can’t let that stop me. Whatever he has on the line, I have more. My whole fucking life. Everything I’ve ever wanted. And I have five minutes to go out there and fucking claim it.
“I won’t fuck this up. I’m ending it. The ref is gonna stop the fight when he’s either knocked out or tapping out.”
Jeb slaps my shoulder. “That’s right. Go in there and get to fucking work. You’ve got the skills. You’ve got the drive. You deserve this. Take what’s yours. Get out there and show me that you fucking want this!”
I slap my hands on my thighs and rise to my feet, letting the ice fall to the cage floor. “This is my house. My fight. My win. And I’m gonna fucking take it.”
Jeb slaps both my shoulders. “That’s fucking right. Now, go get this win!”
The ref signals to us that it’s time, and Jeb and the guys load up the bucket and leave me to get to work.
My house. My fight. My win.
Across the cage, Bodhi smiles at me with his bloody mouthpiece.