out, but how can I do that when he's still walking around somewhere like he did nothing wrong?
The guy in front of me suddenly morphs into Warren, and I take him by surprise. My fist connects with his ribs, forcing his arms to drop so I can move in on his face.
My heart races, adrenaline pumping as I tell myself that this is him. This is the motherfucker who needs to pay for fucking everything up.
I trusted him with Kenny. I only ever wanted the best for her. If I had any idea that he'd...
The roar that rips from my throat is one I barely recognize as I continue laying into this guy. The crowd goes crazy as I take the upper hand. But after a minute or two, I discover why Daz thought putting the two of us together would be a good idea, because somehow, he manages to turn the tables.
My eye burns when he gets a solid punch in before another splits my lip wide open.
Twisting my head to the side, I spit the blood that pools in my mouth. But as I do, my eyes find someone I wasn't expecting standing right at the front of the crowd.
Kennedy.
My entire body stills for a beat. A beat too long, because it gives my opponent the advantage. This is exactly why she shouldn't be here. This is one of the reasons this shit stays underground.
The guy’s fist connects with my jaw, snapping my head to the side, but now I have another reason to fight.
Adrenaline like I've never felt before races through me. My muscles that were starting to tire wake back up, and my need to put him down takes on a life of its own.
I turn on him and don't stop until he's on the floor and I'm being declared the winner, but I don't hang around for the celebration. I've got someone else who needs my attention more.
Her eyes go wide as I storm up to her, but I see the darkness within them as she drops them down my naked chest.
Wrapping my bloody, dirty hand around her wrist, I drag her through the crowd—which parts like the Red Sea—and I don't stop until the door to tonight's makeshift dressing room has slammed behind me.
My hackles rise and my anger swells before I turn on her. She gasps at the look on my face. I understand why. I barely know myself after a fight, let alone one she put herself near.
"You shouldn't be here," I roar.
"Yet, I am." She smiles at me and tilts her head to the side in an attempt to be cute. Any other day, the move might make an impact, but not right now.
"You shouldn't be here. You told me—"
"Fuck what I told you, Conner," she seethes, stepping up to me and slamming her palms down on my chest, forcing me to back up. "Fuck all of this. This is bullshit."
"It's not bullshit. It's my fucking life, Kenny."
"Yeah, and you're fucking it up right now."
"You think I don't know that? You think I want to do this?" I lift my busted hands up between us. Her eyes soften slightly, but she by no means backs down at the sight of my blood.
"I don't know. You seem to do it a lot for someone who claims not to want to and keeps promising his brothers that he’ll stop."
"I don't know what else to do. I can't..."
"I do," she states, as the weight of her body crashes into my chest. She's tiny, but she takes me by surprise and I stumble back until I slam up against the wall. The air rushes from my lungs and my back smarts from the rough concrete it's pressed against. But I don't get a chance to recover, because she's on me.
Her fingers slide into my hair, pulling my face down to meet hers before her lips crash to mine. She doesn't hesitate as her tongue pushes inside my mouth, searching for my own.
I want to fight her, to push her away. I'm covered in blood, sweaty, disgusting, but one taste of her and I lose all sense of what's right and my arm wraps around her waist, pulling her body tighter against mine.
Her hand releases my hair and slips down my body. She trails her fingertips over my abs before digging her nails in and scratching upward.
"Oh fuck," I grunt into her kiss, my cock swelling faster than I can control.
"You need the pain, Con. I