Wrecked by Priscilla West Read Free Book Online Page B

they having a mixed martial arts
fight at this bar?”
    “It’s
sponsored by the Bearded Squirrel. As far as being sanctioned . . .” He
shrugged. “Let’s just say it’s semi-legal. Legal enough—and good enough for
business—that they’re willing to take the risk.”
    The
announcer stepped out of the cage and a man in a light blue button-down and
black pants entered. Judging by his formal attire, he was the referee. He
stepped into the center, rolled up his sleeves and pointed to his left.
    “Red
corner, are you ready?” he shouted.
    Abram
peeled back his hood and removed his sweatshirt, throwing it over the cage to
his coach. He tilted his chin up, beat his fist against his chest, and nodded.
He had neatly combed brown hair parted on the side and a soft face with a wide
nose. He reminded me of Mr. Rogers from the kid’s show Mr. Roger’s
Neighborhood —except this version of Mr. Rogers was on steroids and too big
to fit in sweaters.
    “Blue
corner are you ready?”
    Hunter
removed his hood then slid the sweater off his massive arms and threw it over
the cage. That’s when I saw his face; and the tats around the side of his chest
and neck.
    My heart
stopped.
    He was Tattoos and Muscles.
    I heard
women screaming Hunter’s name and one or two of them shouting for him to marry
them. He didn’t seem to notice, rather his focus was solely on the opponent
before him. The hammer I’d painstakingly drawn in my sketchbook was etched on
the side of his arm. There was no mistaking it. I’d finally found out his name.
    Hunter
Jensen.
    I watched
anxiously as both men stepped forward and approached one another.
    The
referee addressed each fighter. “I want a clean fight, you know the rules. No
crotch shots, eye gouging, or anything dirty. If you do, I’ll have you
disqualified. Are we clear?”
    Each
fighter nodded.
    Abram and
Hunter tapped gloves then each took a step back. The referee slashed his arm
between them like a knife cutting palpable tension. A silence fell on the
crowd.
    I looked
at Gary who had wide eyes and a grin on his face. He seemed pumped to see the
action start.
    “Fight!”
the referee yelled, pulling his arm away and stepping back.
    Abram
immediately rushed for Hunter, brown eyes blazing red. His friendly expression
now maniacal, he lived up to his name “Mr. Hyde”. Hunter ducked and hopped to
the side, avoiding what would’ve been a knockout blow.
    Abram
threw lightning quick jabs left and right but Hunter dodged each of his
strikes. A wild jab caught Hunter across the cheek but Hunter quickly shook the
blow off as if it was a light tap.
    Hunter
circled around the ring and Abram followed. They cautiously circled each other
until Abram’s back was toward me and Hunter was facing my direction.
    Abram went
for a punch again but dropped at the last moment to tackle Hunter’s legs. The
punch had been a feint. Hunter quickly hopped backward and thrust his body weight
forward as Abram slammed into his legs. Hunter managed to keep his balance,
preventing the immediate takedown but they were still struggling. I could
clearly see Hunter’s face. I could see his mouth guard behind his grimacing
lips. He was straining with every ounce of energy to lift Abram off the ground
so that Abram wouldn’t have leverage to pull Hunter’s legs out from under him.
    “Uh oh,”
Gary said. “Hunter has a shitty ground game. If he gets taken down, it’s over.”
    I watched
in horror as Abram was about to overpower Hunter and take him down. Once on the
ground, he’d probably only be able to defend himself until the round ended. I
was barely aware of my hands cupping the sides of my face in disbelief. My
savior was going to lose.
    I watched
him with fierce intensity. My breathing slowed as my heart rate jumped. Hunter
must’ve sensed the tension because he tilted his head, diverting his attention
from Abram. His dark eyes locked onto mine. He stared at me. My breath caught.
A millisecond passed. Or a second.