The mass of people part to allow me through. It's as if they sense the predator in me; the barely restrained beast ready to tear someone apart. The only thing I am thankful for is the fact that she's not fighting a guy. Had I walked into that mess, I’d set this whole place on fire.
What the fuck is she thinking? I wonder as I track down the man who'd brought me here. Abel and Braxton are here too. I'm the only one who'd chosen not to show up tonight. At least, that'd been the plan. I growl when some already buzzed girl stumbles into my path. Without thought, I pick her up and toss her at the nearest guy and keep going, not even pausing to see if she'd been caught.
Anger rages through me.
Three weeks, I've stayed away from her, but it's clear that no matter what Abel says, she can't keep her end of the bargain. I've separated from her. I've left her alone when all I want to do is torment her. Of course, I've kept an eye on her. The three of us have been transferred to all of her classes, but now with my eyes firmly on her delicious ass as she delivers a perfect roundhouse kick to her opponent, I realize it hasn't been enough.
To look and not touch is fucking killing me. Whether she realizes it or not, Avalon Manning has just crossed a line. She's taken one step into my underworld and now there's no going back. I'm going to shove the pomegranate seeds down her throat and ensure that she can never leave.
I stalk further into the warehouse, spotting Jacob Hayes at the top of the bleachers, his eyes fixated on the fight as he clutches a dark swath of fabric in one hand and his cellphone in the other. Good. He'll be easy to spot and so will I when Abel and Braxton finally tear their eyes away from Avalon's ass long enough to find me. There's no doubt in my mind that those two are enjoying this far more than they should. The phone call I'd answered just before I'd left the house—and right after Hayes's text—had stated as much.
"Hayes." I growl out the man's name and even over the roaring excitement of the people crowding the warehouse floor and the old bleachers we'd had shipped here, he hears me. His eyes turn down and when he spots me, he gulps and waves me up. People scramble out of my way as I take the bleachers a step at a time, turning and using the benches as my stairs as I cut a faster path to the man at the top. "Why the fuck didn't you stop her?" I demand when I reach him.
"I tried, man," Hayes says quickly, "but she wouldn't listen."
"You should've made her listen," I hiss.
Someone screams and my head whips around to see the other chick deliver a punch to Avalon's face. It wasn't her scream, though, I realize when the girl backs up and all I see is Avalon's grinning sneer. Like she's enjoying being beaten on. Interesting...
She's a strong fighter. The punches hardly seem to faze her. In fact, they don't slow her down at all. She moves with speed, cutting around her opponent's body and kicking at her legs. When the other girl goes down, Avalon leaps on top of her and delivers blow after blow. I half expect the fight to end sooner than later, but then the opponent rears up and locks her legs around Avalon's body and suddenly the positions are reversed.
I clench my hands into fists at my sides. Blood and sweat. They're both covered in it. I can feel the buzz of the crowd as people push closer to the cage. In the next instant, Avalon has somehow worked her way out of the other girl's hold and they're both back on their feet. Circling.
The opponent turns her head and spits out a wad of blood. If I see Avalon do that, we're going to have issues. For some reason, there's a core piece inside of me that doesn't want to see her hurt. At least, not by anyone but me. I narrow my gaze when I spot a familiar head of white blond hair in the crowd next to a darker head that's nearly a foot taller.
Braxton and Abel.
They spot me a second later and nod as they make their way through the crowd, heading towards me.
"How did she even get here?" I demand as I wait for my brothers' arrival.
Jake shifts from side to side. "I brought her," he admits begrudgingly.
"You better have a good fucking reason—" I start.
"I thought you two were together," he says, lifting his hands in surrender, the shirt and phone still clutched in them. "That's why I brought her. She threatened me with you guys. I promise, I thought this was something you'd want, but I know better now, man. She set the record straight."
"She did, did she?"
"Who did what?" Abel asks as he reaches us, Braxton still climbing through the people sitting on the bleachers below us.
"Avalon said you two weren't anything," Hayes clarifies. "I swear, I won't give her shit if you don't want me to. I don't want any trouble."
My head turns back to the fight. Avalon's back slams into the latticework of the cage. Her opponent is bearing down on her, and honestly, it looks like the other girl is the better fighter. She's fit. She's fierce. But there's something about Avalon. A darker, more volatile edge.
I watch as she reaches up, linking her fingers through the holes of the cage. She uses her hold to lift her whole body and throw her legs over her opponent's head, effectively dodging the girl's next attack. She's impressive. Brutal. Savage.
The way she fights. The blood she wipes from her split lower lip. All of it is sexy as hell. And feeling that way about a girl like her disturbs me more than I'm willing to admit.
"What'd she say?" Abel inquires again when no one has answered him.
Braxton finally makes it to the top and towers over the rest of us as he turns and leans lightly against the back railing, watching the proceedings. He, of all of us, enjoys these kinds of fights. It's the violence. He soaks up the movements, watches carefully, precisely. He usually knows who the winner will be even before the fight has started, but none of us even knew Avalon could fight.
"What do you think?" I ask him instead of answering Abel's question.
"She's good," he says after a moment.
"How good?" I demand.
It takes a moment for him to answer, but when he does, he pivots his head so that his gaze meets mine. "Good enough to beat her," he says.
My eyes turn back to the fight as it winds down. He's right. Her opponent is tapering off, but as Avalon grins at the other girl, I realize that she's nowhere near finished. Her chest rises and falls in rapid movements but her legwork is precise. Careful. My eyes fall to her breasts and I have to grit my teeth at the realization that every fucking man in the room—my brothers included—are seeing her nearly bare up top. The little fucking strap of fabric holding her tits in place is barely acceptable. It's obviously worn from use and age. It’s damn near a deep gray, but the hue tells me it hasn’t always been. How fucking long has she had that thing? Not a split second after that thought occurs, her opponent punches her in the face and bloodstains join the fabric.
Without meaning to, a growl works its way up my throat, but fuck, the way she smiled when the blood was running down her lips … it should’ve been illegal. I spread my legs and anchor my feet to the tops of the bleachers, hoping that my hard on will go down soon.
"Dean," Abel calls, distracting me. I cut my gaze his way and he nods to Jake. "What do you want to do?"