Wild Bastard

26

"Don't worry" Alex pushes us into the front row and stops right in front of Matthew. "He'll be fine"

"I still don't get it, he has to lose, right?" I voice the dialogue, which I do not fully understand. From what Larry says, Cash has to throw the fight, which is not at all in this asshole's plans. I'm still trying to grasp the magnitude of what will follow his decision to win. Or is he going to lose?

"Yep. But I doubt he'll go for it" Red replies uncertainly and scratches the back of his head.

I meet the keen gaze of blue eyes, each time acting on me like a large dose of marijuana. My body becomes a woozy, uncontrollable mess. Matthew grins, and I know for a fact that the grin is directed at me. I bite my lip.

No man had ever stood up for me before.

All my life I had to defend myself. It's normal to solve problems without help. It was normal. No matter what kind of ass I got into, I knew that whining would not change the situation. If I didn't solve it myself, no one would. And now I'm confused. Probably because I didn't expect it from him in the first place. It was Cash. Lana's bastard brother, bullying his sister, not letting her out of the house, not even for a walk. Only to yoga and tutoring. He also fucked anyone who would strike the right pose or open their mouth. A guy like him couldn't just stand up for a girl for no reason.

But the anger on the guy's face when he found out what I was about to go to was definitely not fake. And this question of whether or not I'd slept with Lopez... You don't just ask it...

I was twisted into a knot by the realization that Matt could really go instead of me just because, as he said, "he's interested in me". And it would be okay if it wasn't the second fight of the evening. Now the fighter was clearly weaker after getting hit in the head.

I don't notice how I start biting my nails after the fight starts. Mitch is smiling with satisfaction at his recent victory and feels like he's king of the ring. You can see it in his jubilant gaze. Every time an opponent passes close to me, it makes me want to pounce on him from behind and hold him down, so that Matthew can tackle this arrogant jerk faster.

When Mitch pummels Cash and falls on top of him with his whole carcass, my heart goes boom. It freezes, stopping to beat.

"Come on, get up!"

I could have fooled myself by assuring myself that I was only worried that if he lost and passed out, I might still get pushed into the ring. But in reality, I bite my lips and don't even breathe because I suddenly realize that the guy might be hurt. Matt's face turns red at the speed of the accelerating pulse in my veins. The urge to pull the cretin in the red shorts away from him beats against the maximum mark.

Except that Matthew really isn't the type to give up. He, pushing himself off the floor, manages to wriggle out and now finds himself on top of the bully. My heart jumps up and bangs against my ribs.

One blow to the black-haired man's face, a second, and a third. Acting like a machine, and without regard for the organizer's demand that the fight must be thrown, Matthew literally destroys his opponent. It's not a sight for the faint-hearted, but contrary to all laws of logic, I rejoice. I even seem to squeal louder than the others, when the referee declares him the winner.

I turn to Red, ready to throw my arms around him to share my joy, but instead of the expected triumph, his best friend's face has an unreadable expression. The crowd rushes toward Cash, pushing us back somewhere. Everyone is shouting. I'm almost lost in the viscous mass when, after a while, my arm is wrapped around it and pulled into the corridor. The back of Red's head flashes ahead as he pulls me out of the maelstrom of yelling and disgruntled onlookers.