Wild Bastard

8

Marina

"Let's go!"

Alex shouts over the deafening roar of the crowd, gripping my wrist and dragging me through the chaos.

The air is thick with anticipation, buzzing with raw energy.

Matt's friend brought me here tonight—turns out the asshole is heavily involved in Ultimate Fighting.

Before he left, he was nearly unbeatable.

Now?

He's clawing his way back to the top.

I couldn't say no to a show like this.

I've seen my fair share of street fights. Had to defend myself plenty of times back at the orphanage from kids who thought they were tougher than me.

But a real, sanctioned fight?

This is new.

The atmosphere is electric.

Half the crowd chants "Radge!" while the other half screams "Cash!"—their voices clashing in a chaotic battle of their own.

People are yelling, drinking, throwing down bets.

I move carefully, dodging overhyped guys so I don't end up as collateral damage.

Alex keeps a tight grip on my hand—until suddenly, he lets go.

We've reached the back corridor.

A few turns later, we step into a small changing room.

The first thing I see?

Matthew.

It's impossible not to.

Half-naked, standing in the middle of the room, strapping red leather gloves onto his hands.

I catch myself involuntarily running my eyes over him.

Damn it.

He's not huge—not bulky like some fighters.

Leaner. Almost too thin for a guy who's about to step into a cage.

Can someone like that really take down guys with twice his muscle mass?

Still, the definition is there.

Toned abs, strong arms, broad shoulders.

His white shorts hang low on his hips, the sharp lines of his obliques cutting beneath the waistband.

I force my gaze up—

And meet a pair of eyes burning straight through me.

"Did you like what you saw, Rie?"

The bastard smirks, sauntering toward us.

"Hey, Red."

"Hey, Cash. You ready?"

"You bet. I've been dying to smash someone's face in for six months."

No hesitation. No fear. Just pure, undisguised hunger for the fight.

Then he turns back to me, lifting a brow.

"You never answered." His voice drops into something slow, mocking. "I think you just came while looking at me."

Fucking hell.

I snort, crossing my arms.

"There's nothing on you I haven't seen before, Matthew. You're not as special as you think."