The Bad Girl

Chapter 16

I stared off into the distance as the crowd at The Buzz cheered on the fighters in the ring. One of the guys were shirtless, and the other had a hoodie.

The Hoodie guy grabbed the other man by the arm and attempted to twist it behind him, but shirtless guy brought his fist up in a perfect uppercut. He then turned around and slammed his elbow in hoodie guy's nose. Blood sprayed from the guy's obvious broken nose.

I looked away from the bloody mess.

When I had first gotten here, I had been crying in the bathroom for about thirty minutes, until I heard the door burst open and realized that I should not be crying in a public restroom, or at all.

So I signed up for a fight that is three fights away from the one that is on now.

I looked over last minute to see Hoodie guy throw a left hook that knocked the shirtless guy out. I silently winced when I heard a crack, knowing that he probably had a broken jaw. I turned around, but instead of seeing the bar's crowd, my gaze was met with a steely grey one.

And twelve other gazes.

Blake's is the one that caught my attention. There is so much sadness and pity.

Pity.

If there is anything that I hate more than staring, it is pity. And he know that, but before I can snap at him, he rushes to me and pulls me into a hug.

"I'm so sorry she's being like this to you. We all kind of heard the argument and she pushed us to make sure you didn't do anything stupid. And I know you hate the pity, but I can't help it," he said.

"Y'all heard everything?" I asked wincing, my need to snap at him gone. He just nodded and let me go. I stood up off my barstool and looked at all of them. In the back I saw Josh, Jeff, and Louis, and I nodded to them. All of the guys turned to the fight that just started.

Then I saw Brett.

I suddenly remembered the angry look he gave me earlier, and turned away. My back got warm from the sudden presence. All I had on my torso was my fighting sports bra, so I knew someone was really close to my back.

Brett's hot breath could be felt against my ear.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked as he slipped his arms around my waist to cross across my stomach. It sent shivers down my spine.

"I could ask you the same," I whispered back.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asked confusedly.

"Because you looked mad at me earlier when you looked at me," I whisper vehemently.

He then turned me around to face him, so my body was pressed more than comfortably against his. I sighed out in content. He grabbed my chin in his hand and turned my face to look at him.

When I did, his steely grey eyes held such seriousness in them that made me want to kiss him.

"I wasn't mad at you, love. I was mad at James for being such an asshole to you. He shouldn't have been acting like your father," he whispered leaning his forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes, but a harsh, cold voice interrupted our peace.
"Well, boys. Which one of you am I gonna be fighting tonight? Andy, over there said that I would be fighting a girl and pointed over here, but I think he's lying," a man said stepping in our view.

I had to do a double take on his size because he was huge. He was at least 6'4', and had broad, muscular shoulders. He was wearing a muscle tee that hugged everyone of his very defined abs.