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The hatred and turmoil over what he said was visible all over. The veins in my neck bulged as I swallowed, my eyes furrowed down, each muscle cocking back ready to strike.

Balling my fists hard, I was a split second away from punching him square in the jaw. His eyes flicked to my arms, head shifting a hair as he watched me transform from man to animal.

Louis' grin split wide across his round face, his voice low. “Save that for the fighter, Quinn, you're going to need it.” Raising the microphone, he yelled, “You both know the rules, let the blood bath begin!”

The room churned, wild panting and cheers rattled inside my skull. The crowd reared up, cramming together like a can of sardines. Every eye gawked with thirst, waiting for the slaughter to begin.

Turning back to look over at Cadence, she chewed on her fingers, brows arching up, fear and uncertainty painted across her face.

I wanted to hold her, let her know she doesn't have to worry about me. I'm a trained killer of sorts. I watched the other fights, even watching Nico bob back and forth like a fucking fairy, made me realize these guys don't know shit.

They're street thugs, wielding flailing arms, and a good sucker punch if they land it. They fight with their fists, but they don't use their heads.

Could they take out your average guy? Sure.

Could they take out a professional?

Not a chance in hell.

Even with the promise I made to stay clear from the ring, my adrenaline had already begun to pump the moment the Macro called me out.

Violence had been my only lust.

But Cadence had stepped in to fill its place, every piece of her was worth tasting, worth drowning in.

She started a fire inside, and I couldn't put it out.

Gripping the neck of my shirt, I pulled it over my head and tossed it to the side. Steel grunted, his vocalization sounding more animalistic than human.

I couldn't help but laugh. When the chuckle rolled from my lips, the Macro shot a glance at me as he slid between the ropes. His face churned with confusion, wondering where my nerves had come from, and why I wasn't cowering in the corner.

Kicking my sneakers off, my bare feet hit the cold surface. It was déjà vu, bringing me back to my roots, to that day, that time; the one I had tried so hard to forget.

Shaking my head vigorously, I pushed the images from my mind.

I need to be here. Right here—right now.

There's no time for that shit.

The bell sounded, my eyes freezing on Steel. His hands were held up, palms open. I watched him move, watched every limb, and where it was.

His feet hit the thin pad below, crossing over each other slowly. A thick scar tapered across his chest, muscles contracting as he inched towards me.

My plan was to let him come to me, I never go in first.

“Afraid, Asshole?” Steel said, the raspy growl was faint beneath the energy surrounding us.

“Not in the least.” My hand came up and gestured for him to come in, make his move.

His face contorted, eyes glazing over. The thick vein on his neck popped out as a loud snarl escaped his breath. In one quick lunge, Steel charged at me, arms stretched out, aiming for my throat.

This guy was bulky, moving awkwardly across the ring, running at me like a drunken gorilla. I wanted to laugh again, and even though I kept my game face, the chuckle hit my chest.

Quickly, I slapped his arms away, sliding a foot out to trip him. Steel hit the ground, the mat shook under his weight, vibrating my calves.

His face turned a bright shade of red, eyes popping out with rage. Pushing up from the floor, he wiped the debris off his arms, a mix of dirt and old flesh.

I wasn't supposed to be here, I wasn't supposed to ever step foot into a ring again.