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The stocky, dark-haired guy hit the dirt like a ton of bricks. The nose I’d just broken sent blood spraying in an arc across the people lined up in the front row, and they jumped back with a mixture of screams and shouts.
I cocked my head, waiting for him to bounce back up and send another punch my way, but the man didn’t move.
Gino crouched and slapped his face a couple of times before he stood up straight and grabbed my arm, raising it into the air. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner!”
The crowd went wild, but none of it sank in. Gino slapped me on the shoulder when I walked out of the makeshift fight ring and followed me as I pushed way through the throng of people who’d gathered to watch that night’s fights.
As soon as we were out of sight, he handed me a thin wad of cash. “Good job tonight. Your cut.”
It was barely enough to put gas in my truck. “Seriously? That’s it?”
Gino shrugged. “Like I said, bro. You’re the favorite right now. The payout is slim. You want a big payday? Win a couple more, then throw one. It’ll be worth your while. You can see how many people are here tonight. Some of them have deep pockets. You see that guy over there in the suit? He bets big. If we can get him interested in you…”
I cast a glance in the direction Gino was indicating. “It’s like he stepped out of a Mafia magazine.”
Gino chuckled. “Would explain some things.”
I didn’t really think some Mafia head honcho would be hanging around the Saint View fights, but the guy’s suit was really nice.
And I was really broke. “I’ll think about it.”
Gino beamed like I’d agreed to something and shoved me toward the gym doors. “Go inside and get a shower. You deserve it. You fought like a pro tonight.”
Twenty minutes later, freshly showered, my hair slicked back with water, I headed out the doors once more. The fights were still going, the slaps of fists and feet hitting flesh echoed around the dark parking lot, but I wasn’t interested in watching any more of it.
I pulled my phone out and checked it for anything I’d missed. But it was more of the same. Message after message from Rebel, asking where I was and if I was okay. The last one invited me to come hang out with her and Vaughn at a Psychos party that night.
“Yeah, because torture is my favorite,” I muttered, clearing the message. “I really want to watch you and Vaughn slobber all over each other.”
It wasn’t a fair thought. She’d be working, so maybe that wouldn’t happen. But then again, I didn’t know what went on at these parties. Maybe on her break she’d be riding his dick in the middle of the room for any random person to jack off over.
“Fuck.” What did I have to go and think about that for? The last thing I needed was getting hard over a woman who already had two men, and a guy who was so firmly in the closet I couldn’t get him out, even with the key.
“Nice fight, Kian O’Malley.”
I glanced up from my phone and did a double take.
The guy in the expensive suit. It was a deep blue, a crisp white business shirt poking out from beneath it.
He took a drag from a thin cigar, slowly blowing out the smoke while he studied me.
He was hot. Chiseled jaw. Tanned skin. Dark eyes.
A tattoo crept up the side of his neck, but it was too dark for me to make it out.
He was also no Vaughn.
Fuck, that annoyed me.
I nodded at the guy. “Thanks. Appreciate the support.”
“Are you fighting again soon?”
I shrugged. “Not too sure. Maybe.”
The man dropped his cigar, putting it out with the toe of his expensive leather shoe. “You’ve got talent. You could be great, with the right coach.”
I jerked my head toward Gino in the middle of the ring. “Already got one of those.”