to foight.” And beast that the other fighter was, he rose as if from the ashes and came at Hugh once more.
Hugh shot an elbow up, catching Bragger’s fist before it collided with his cheek. The other man wouldn’t quit. He’d consign Hugh to this.
Jab-Jab-Jab-Jab.
He landed four quick uppercuts to his opponent’s chin.
Aye, his partner called him ruthless, and he had the right of it. Violence was more a part of Hugh than his own skin. And he hated the other man for being correct. Because there was no way out of this.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his other partner.
Hugh didn’t blink.
Maynard stood in the doorway speaking with—Hugh frowned—a woman. A young woman, wearing an altogether familiar brown muslin cloak, stood beside Maynard.
Motionless. Pale.
As she watched Hugh and Bragger battle, she’d a similar look to the one she’d worn in the early morn, when she’d been about to vomit outside the arena.
What in hell?
Dirty fighter that he’d always been, Bragger threw the inside of his forearm, catching Hugh in the temple and knocking him to his knees. Ignoring the triumphant laughter at that dirty play that combined with a ringing in his ears, Hugh leapt to his feet. He’d taken too many knocks to the head. There was no other accounting for the sight before him now.
Lila’s horror-filled gaze remained locked on him and Bragger.
Aside from his and Bragger’s rapid breathing, only silence echoed in the arena.
She’d been adamant Hugh wasn’t a monster. She’d been so damned certain in her convictions that she could have almost tricked Hugh into thinking he was something other than he was.
But there was only one certainty after this moment with her here, deathly still and silent, her cheeks ashen: he’d effectively disabused her of every false notion that had brought her here—twice now.
Why did that simple reality make him want to snarl and hiss like the bloody beast he was?
Maynard broke the quiet. “Ya’ve got company, Savage.”
“What do you want?” he barked.
He expected her to run.
He should have known better by now, that this one would never do what was expected of her.
“Hullo, Mr. Savage,” she said quietly. Her horror-filled eyes went to the bloodied man alongside Hugh—Bragger, keenly taking in Lila and the entire exchange.
Hugh needed to get her out of here.
The surest lesson he’d secured about his partners over the years was that they’d weigh a person and gauge what use they could get out of them. Hugh had proven no different. Lila would be the same.
“Wot ’ave we ’ere?” Bragger purred, a silken drawl.
“No one.” Hugh was already striding across the room to place himself between the damned lackwit and his partner. “She was leaving.”
“I-I’m not.” She peered around Hugh’s shoulder. “My name is Lila.”
The head proprietor touched a finger to the brim of an imagined hat. “Friend of Savage ’ere?”
“Yes.”
“No.” Hugh’s curt denial blended with her affirmation. He gritted his teeth. The only thing missing in this farcical exchange was a damned curtsy. “We’re not friends.” Hugh didn’t have any. And that also went for the two men taking in his and Lila’s exchange like vultures assessing their prey. Taking her hard by the arm, Hugh dragged her several steps.
“You’re hurting me.”
“You know how you avoid that?” he asked between clenched teeth. “You don’t come here.” Even so, he lightened his hold.
Several paces away, Maynard took in every nuance of Hugh and Lila’s exchange. Half-deaf, the other man would never pick up every word, but any word was too much.
“Forgive me for distracting you,” she said in hushed tones that weren’t quiet enough.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the grimace Maynard and Bragger shared.
Aye, because everyone in the rookeries knew distractions were costly and weren’t allowed in these parts. It was the first and only time he’d ever been accused of that sin, because quite simply, Hugh had never allowed himself anything less than clear focus. “I wasn’t distracted,” he bit out between tight lips.
“You’re just being polite,” she demurred. “I saw you look my way, and then that gentleman—” The young woman’s choice of words earned guffaws from Hugh’s partners. She looked over at the both of them. “I’m sorry—I don’t know your name.”
“Bragger, ma’am.” And damned if the notoriously ruthless street fighter didn’t have a bemused smile in his voice. A smile? Impossible. The blighter found mirth only in the presence of absolute brutality.
“Thank you.” Lila shifted her attention back to Hugh. “As I was saying, once I was