Page 62 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)
Chapter
Sixty-One
Taylor
Gavin didn’t stop by my dressing room for his good luck kiss. He’s ritualistic about his pre-fight routine, and something doesn’t feel right.
This is the championship, so maybe he had to do something different…
Like what, I don’t know.
My nerves are a jangled mess, and I try to soothe myself by organizing my round signs for a second time. Mike’s bitch of a girlfriend comes strutting my way, but security blocks her before she can get a snarky word in.
The arena goes dark, an excited hush falling over the crowd. The spotlight lands on the announcer in the ring. “Ladies and gentlemen, who’s ready to throw hands?”
The crowd erupts in rowdy cheers.
“Tonight, one fighter walks away with the coveted championship belt. Will it be our reigning champ of bare-knuckle boxing? Make some noise for the Hammer!”
The arena goes wild as Mike and his entourage enter the arena with their usual hammer schtick, except his entourage is noticeably smaller. And that’s not counting the two men who Gavin may or may not have killed.
“Standing in the Hammer’s way is his opponent. Can the Spider weave a comeback web? Make some noise for the Spider!”
The light shifts to the back, but there’s no Gavin.
An eerie silence fills the arena.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the Spider has five minutes to check in ringside or this bout will be called by DQ.”
I shove past my security detail, both men shouting something at me as I sprint backstage. My chest heaving, I pound on Gavin’s locked dressing room door, but no response.
I round the corner, lunging behind the wall and peeking around with my hands over my mouth.
So this is the reason for Mike’s smaller entourage. Four of them are lugging a body-bag-sized burlap sack.
They slip inside a utility room and step out bagless, and I jerk my head back around and hold my breath.
My heartbeat ricochets in my chest as I give it to the count of five, and peek around the corner. The coast is clear, and I hurry to the utility room. Opening the door, my hands fumble with untying the bag.
The material drops, revealing Gavin.
Bound and gagged, his eyes look exactly like they did after Mia shot me.
Empty.
Soulless.
Dangerous.
My knees hit the floor as I cup his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “You will take care of Mike in the ring.”
Gavin nods, and I rip the tape off his mouth. “Get some scissors to cut me loose, and call Inferno and tell him what happened,” he says in a clipped tone.
I nod, hurrying to my dressing room.
“What the fuck, Taylor?” Steve and my security guards are there to greet me. “Gavin’s missed his intro, and you’re both about to miss the damn fight!”
Ignoring him, I unlock my room and find a pair of scissors, running down the hallway with them. “Why are you running with scissors? Taylor, get back here!” Steve calls.
Reaching the utility room, I cut Gavin loose. “You have three minutes to check in ringside,” I estimate, and he takes off in a sprint.
Nowhere near as fast as he can run, I make it back to my dressing room and ignore Steve bitching at me. My phone in my hand, I call Inferno. “Mike’s crew tried to sabotage Gavin’s fight,” I explain what went down, my chest heaving.
“I’ll handle it,” Inferno says. “Get ringside and keep your security tight.”
I end the call and hurry down the hallway, with Steve yapping in my ear. “I have to take this to the judges and get the fight called—”
“You will do no such thing.” I stop, getting in his face. “You knew how dirty Mike was. Welcome to the foreseeable consequences of your inaction.”
“Taylor—”
I hold up my hand. “Gavin deserves his shot at the title. Let them fight it out.”
Because all my money’s on Gavin.
Steve holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, let’s get you to the ring.”
We hustle ringside, my feet faltering when I see it.
Mike’s bitch of a girlfriend is in the ring, holding my Round 1 sign.
“Taylor, wait!” Steve calls, but I’m already on the canvas and slipping beneath the ropes.
She turns around with a look of pure shock, my fist connecting with the soft underside of her left eye. The crowd explodes into raucous cheers as I grab my round sign from the mat and step over her crumbled body as I do the rest of the turn.
Adrenaline has taken over, because when I return to my seat and get my signs situated, I notice my knuckles swelling rapidly. Damn, I thought I went for the soft spot on that bitch’s face like Gavin taught me.
Mike’s girlfriend is hauled out of the ring by security as Steve appears, his head looking like it might explode. “‘Hold it together,’ I said to her, and this is what she fucking does.” He cracks an ice pack and tosses it to me before muttering a few more choice words as he storms off.
The round bell rings, and Gavin explodes from his corner, going on the offensive.
No, this isn’t going on the offensive. This is Gavin unleashing his fury, and I’m here for it.
He lands blow after blow to Mike’s face, with Mike getting in a few weak defensive shots. In a pussy move, Mike head butts Gavin, and I hop out of my seat. “That’s bullshit!” I cry.
The bell rings.
So this is going to be a dirty fight.
Got it.
Shifting my bikini top, I grab the Round 2 sign and make my turn around the ring. A slew of catcalls and jeers propels me forward as I linger near Mike’s corner. He notices me; rather my exposed nipple. But who also notices Mike noticing my nipple is Gavin.
Gavin’s eyes are now completely gone. I can’t hear it, but I can see his chest vibrate with laughter.
Mike’s done for.
Slipping through the ropes, I adjust my top, strutting back to my seat.
“Ring girl, I love you!”
“Whore!”
“Girl, what that nipple do?”
“Poke your eye out; choke you. That sort of thing.” I smile and wave.
Steve’s there when I return to my seat, looking like he’s about to have a full-fledged freak out. I pat his cheek. “Hold it together.”
Round two bell rings, and Gavin surges from his corner like a hurricane, unleashing a torrent of punches. Mike’s already against the ropes.
Relentless.
Ferocious.
Punishing.
It’s a sight to behold.
My ovaries certainly think so, as they high-five each other.
Gavin lands a devastating combination, and Mike crumbles against the ropes. Except Gavin doesn’t let up, continuing to pound his opponent’s face.
Oh shit, Gavin’s going to kill Mike.
The ref unsuccessfully tries to get Gavin back to his corner, and I hop out of my seat and sprint to where I’m ringside, facing Gavin.
“Gavin, stop!” I shout, jumping up and down and waving my arms.
He notices me, pausing his assault with raised fists.
Get back to your corner, my eyes say. My head jerks to the opposite side of the ring.
Okay, baby. His eyes soften before he backs away so the ref can begin the count.
After the longest ten seconds of my life, the ref is holding up Gavin’s hand in victory.
I duck between the ropes and hurry to Gavin’s corner, peppering his bloody face and lips with kisses.
I love you.
Our eyes say in unison over the roar of the crowd.