Page 29

But, he had his fingers dipped in several different pockets. A payoff here, a bribe there; whatever it took to keep this place open, and out of the wrong person's eye.

The bell went off, and the next fight had started. Four finger Frankie verses Hugo. These men were dirty fighters. Frankie had lost a digit during a previous fight, he stuck his hand into the other guys mouth trying to break his jaw, and lost his finger instead.

Hugo, he was a massive wall of muscle and grit. A mouth full of broken teeth, scars crisscrossing the flesh of his face. When he stepped into the ring it always looked like he was smiling, and by the way he fought... He was more than happy to be there.

There was no waiting, or sizing up the other opponent, their bodies collided in one giant crash.

I didn't want to watch, I tried to never watch. Turning my eye to the room, I studied the engorged faces of the observers. Men were drooling and hollering, fists flew through the air. Against the back entrance, a figure caught my eye. He was hard to make out, standing in the shadows.

Who is that? Why isn't he up close, barking along side the other assholes?

His arms were crossed tight, shoulder leaning against the wall. Despite the dark mask across his face, his eyes glowed. The bright shine flickered as they darted between the fighters. A hand fell across his hair, brushing it from his view.

My father stepped off his throne, and made his way through the crowd. As he approached the man, he held his hand out in gesture.

Was he a new bidder? A guy with deep pockets ready to drop thousands in bets?

My father never stepped off his seat unless the man was important, and by the grin on his face, this man held weight.

The two walked side by side. My father's hands motioned as he spoke, pointing around the ring towards the fighters. Reaching the bright lights of the circle, my heart stopped, breathing slowing to a mere gasp.

Quinn.

No! Fuck! Fuck!

What the hell is he thinking?

He shouldn't be here, this place will eat him alive. Kill him over and over without mercy.

My grip loosened around the glass, letting it slip to the floor. Shattering against the hard cement, small splinters flew up, hitting my ankles like the wisps of a hot flame. I couldn't move, couldn't think, my stomach was spinning with butterflies and acid.

I wanted to see him again, the thought of laying my eyes on his face was exciting. But I didn't want to see him here, mingling with my father like it was a fucking business meeting.

Seeing him here, talking with my father, it made me sick.

My dad's face turned my way, eyes smiling the most deceptive stare. The grin he held across his cheeks was false and unwelcoming.

My surprise, this was my surprise?

Mother fucker!

Pushing their way through the crowd, Quinn held his expression on me. A slight smirk tugged on his lips, hands shoving into his pockets.

The desire to feel him flooded my soul, my panties warming between my thighs, prickles buzzing across my neck. He looked so hot in his tight blue shirt, so firm and strong. The fabric spread across his chest, outlining the hard ripple of his stomach flexing beneath.

“Cadence, look who came to visit.” The devilish tone filled my body, my father's voice piercing my ears, and stabbing my lungs. He had his tricks, he never did anything without an underlying motive.

This was one of those times. He was playing a game, a game with Quinn, and a game with me. And he knew it, he felt it, hereveledin it.

Pursing my lips, I said, “What are you doing here?” Both hands gripped the edge of the bar, squeezing tightly.

Quinn shot me a crooked glance. “What? I can't come and visit?”

“You know what I mean. Are you under contract now?”

I didn't want him here, I didn't want him to fight for my father. He would be under my dad's control, his force would be owned.

And for me, his hands would never grace my skin again.