Uncaged (An MMA Stepbrother Romance) (16 page)

“What the hell was that about?” I ask nobody in particular, blinking a few times.

Rose and her boyfriend look at me, grinning. “He’s claimed you.”

I shake my head. “
Claimed
me?”

“I don’t know,” she says, biting her lip. “He’s never done that before. He’s definitely interested in you.”

“You’ve watched him before?”

“Yeah, heaps,” Jason says. “His fights are always a good show.”

I laugh, incredulous. “Don’t I get a say in any of this? How can he just
claim
me? What does that even mean?”

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t think he’s hot stuff.”

“Hey,” her boyfriend says, but Rose ignores him.

“He’s alright,” I lie.

“You’re lying,” Rose says. “I always know when people are lying.”

“That’s one of those things people say,” I tell her, “That’s not true and really annoying.”

“Fine, I know when
you’re
lying. Besides, you’re blushing.”

“I am not!” I say, but I know it’s pointless to check. She’s right. I realize then that my ears are burning too. I look around at all the people who came to watch fight night, and their eyes are all on me.

Some girl is shooting me a death stare. Another winks at me, and blows a kiss.

What the hell is this?

“Babe, if Pierce wants you, he’s gonna—”

“Going to what?” I say, cutting her off. “Going to ask me out on a date?”

She snorts. “Please.”

“It’s not like anything can happen, anyway.”

“Why?” Jason interjects. “You on your period?”

I glare at him.

“Oh relax,” she says, slapping my knee.

“Nothing can happen because his mother is dating my father.”

The small group of people around us all fall silent, and Rose bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“You
really
think that’s going to stop him?”

I scrunch up my face in disbelief. “It’s going to stop
me
. And,” I say, realizing that I need to recover. “It’s not like I’m interested, anyway.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“Just shut up.”

“This is going to be interesting,” Rose says with an ultra-annoying grin. “Where’s the popcorn?”

We sit in silence for a while, and then I see a young couple walking up the steps in the stand. They enter our row, and Rose gets up and hugs them.

“Hey Cassie, hey Chance!”

I realize the two empty seats beside me are for them. I’m unhappy. Rose didn’t tell me she was bringing friends. It’s not like I came out prepared to really socialize with anyone else but her and her boyfriend.

I smile and introduce myself.

The guy, Chance sits beside me with Cassie, and he pulls out his zippo and clinks it open. “Relax,” he tells me when he sees my expression. “I don’t smoke. Just an old habit.”

The bell dings again, and a second fighter steps into the cage with Pierce. The crowd goes silent, but the air is charged.

The man is smaller than Pierce, but he’s stocky and obviously strong. Pierce is leaner, with longer arms and a lighter step.

I groan to myself. I’m really not having a good time, and the fight hasn’t even started yet.

The two meet in the middle of the cage, and they tap fists. I notice they’re not wearing gloves, but instead have some kind of tape or wrapping around their hands.

If they don’t wear gloves, then each punch is going to really hurt.

The referee motions for them to step back. Already Pierce is putting on a show, strutting about, and the light plays off the deep lines cut into his stunning body. His shorts are tight, hug his ass.

He turns around, shows his back to his opponent – who I’ve already dubbed ‘Stocky’ in my head – and looks at me. He smirks, winks, and again a sea of heads turn to face me, as if they’re expecting me to…
respond.

I lick my lips, nod my head slightly at his opponent. Pierce shrugs, like he hasn’t got a worry in the world. But Stocky is already moving in, charging at him.

“Turn around!” I mouth, shaking my head at Pierce in disbelief. He’s going to get punched in the back of the head.

At the last moment, Pierce twists on his heels, and brings an elbow around. Stocky ducks it, but already Pierce is on him, aggressively closing the distance.

Beside me, I hear Chance say, “He always was a showoff.”

Stocky is backing up quick, and Pierce is dancing toward him. He stops suddenly, and puts out his hands, beckons, taunts.

It seems to have an effect. The body language of Stocky changes, becomes angry, and he stomps toward Pierce, fists up, ready to block a blow.

Pierce feints a step to his left, and throws Stocky’s weight off-center. He then kicks out Stocky’s unbalanced foot. Stocky goes down hard onto his back.

Pierce is on him in an instant, rolling around, and I can’t even make out what’s happening. But before long he’s got Stocky’s head in the nook of his knee, and he’s squeezing.

“Holy shit,” Rose whispers. “That was fast.”

Stocky is on the ground, his face is red as a beetroot, and he’s in a chokehold. Pierce, still putting on a show, points at the crowd, and they erupt.

“Jesus,” I say, looking at Chance and Cassie. She’s got her face bunched up, and I agree with her. Watching Stocky being choked like that is so immediate and visceral. It’s… a little sickening.

“Pierce has him in what’s called a submission hold,” I overhear Chance tell her. She doesn’t reply.

Stocky’s losing strength in his body now. He’s trying uselessly to grab Pierce behind him, but can’t get any good hold. Pierce twists his leg again, rolling Stocky’s body over so that he’s face down, neck still being held in between Pierce’s calf and thigh.

“He’s going to kill him,” I whisper in disbelief. “What the hell? Don’t they stop the fight?”

But, to my surprise, Stocky twists his body again, and lays a thunderous punch against Pierce’s thigh. The leg instantly goes dead, and Stocky rolls out, wincing, holding onto his throat and rubbing it.

Pierce gets to his feet, tests his leg, and I can almost
feel
the numbness he must be feeling, the pins and needles from the heavy blow.

He just grins, and beckons Stocky again.

The noise has all but died. There’s an eerie silence, as if suddenly the audience no longer cares for Pierce’s taunting. Or maybe they’re shocked by the purple bruise that’s already forming on Stocky’s neck.

Stocky is pissed, though. That much is for sure. He’s losing his composure, but still Pierce keeps taunting him.

“Why does he do that?” I say. “Isn’t there sportsmanship?”

“It’s a strategy,” Chance informs me. “Getting into his head, getting him uneven mentally.”

“Isn’t that cheap?”

He shrugs. “Anything to win.”

Stocky lunges, but Pierce dodges him easily. He captures Stocky’s arm, twists it behind his back, and then kicks out his legs again, sending him face-first to the floor. The sound is a deep, loud, single thump, and I’m reminded of the time I once dropped a bowling ball in the lane.

Pierce rolls over the body, hooks Stocky’s neck with his leg again, and this time grabs his own foot with his hand, and pulls.

Stocky’s body flails for a second, then I see the shoulders drop. He’s trying to get out from under it, but gets stuck on Pierce’s hip bone.

It’s only a few seconds before Stocky’s body goes limp.

“That’s the
Pace choke
,” I overhear Chance say to Cassie. “Lights-out in seconds. No blood to the brain.”

The fight is over. Pierce gets up, and somebody rushes to Stocky. I assume he’s a doctor.

The crowd bursts into manic cheering and applause, and Pierce trots about the cage, arms up, grinning.

He’s barely even broken a sweat.