1 Last Shot (The Fight Game, #4)

by Nikki Castle

Chapter 20 Drive You Insane — Daniel Di Angelo

Yesssss

Fuck, this girl's beautiful. With her face uncovered, I can finally zero in on the details of her face. She looks young, her skin perfect and her smile too friendly. I have to tear my gaze away from her plump, pink lips and the intoxicating smile they're curved into. Instead, I watch as a few strands of her untamed, wavy brown hair flow into her face from a breeze, and as she shyly tucks them behind her ear while she waits for me to return her greeting.

I'm just about to turn around to get out of this alternate dimension, when another man walks into the room from the other side of the building. A shirtless, sweat-drenched, heavily-tattooed man with a scowl on his face that looks like it might be etched into his skin. I’m caught completely off guard by the flash of heat that runs through me at the sight of him.

graceful, beautiful men my whole life. Not to say I’ve been living under a rock and haven’t interacted with anyone who isn’t a dancer, but my experience with most men—a singular boyfriend included—has been with a very particular type of man.

"Yeah, that's me. It had this as the address, but that's obviously wrong." "Yeah, some websites still have the wrong one listed. I can walk you over there, though. I'm not taking class tonight, but I can at least show you around." My eyebrows shoot to my hairline. "You go there. And you do this?"

feel slightly guilty about it, until my eyes lock with the tattooed guy’s again. We both freeze at the caught glance. I've stared enough at his body so instead, I mentally catalog his face—short, almost buzzed brown hair, a perpetual frown, and brown eyes that seem to say everything and nothing all at once. I'm experiencing the distinct sensation that he's catching and analyzing every thought, and every minuscule reaction, that's showing on my face right now.

"You don't even know me," I blurt out before I can reel it in. "Why are you being so nice to me?" Hailey’s expression softens. "I remember what it felt like to be on an island by yourself," she admits quietly, pursing her lips. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

Awwww

lot less shouts of 'point your goddamn toes, Izzy.'"

"That's not hard to do. I bet that woman said those words in her sleep." I chuckle. "I'm not taking that bet."

even without ballet as a career, you want to dance?" My answering nod is tiny. "And where do you stand with your injury? Is it fully healed?"

"My foot is healed. They had to operate after the last stress fracture, but I completed all the rehab and can use it to full capacity."

I look over my shoulder in curiosity and freeze in place when I see Kane, who’s sitting on his motorcycle and tugging a helmet off his head. And God, if I thought he was hot at the gym, all sweat-drenched and with his tattoos on display, it’s nothing compared to the sight of him straddling a bike.

what?” He dismounts and grabs a gym bag from where it's stashed in one of the compartments. "Let me guess, you want to tell me that I look out of place, right?" When I only frown, he shakes his head. "I live here. Don't look so shocked that we can afford the same apartment, princess."

wasn't surprised because I didn't think you could live here," I say, hoping he’ll believe me. "I just… didn't expect to run into you. Small world and all that." He scoffs and grabs his motorcycle helmet in his other hand. "Sure, let's go with that excuse."

Tell me I’m wrong, princess." I don’t bother to correct him, since it’s clear he’s somehow already made up his mind about this. Instead, I ask, “Are you nervous for your fight on Friday?” I don’t have to fake my concerned tone.

don’t know how you do it,” I ramble on. “I’d be so scared to do what you do. Do you get hurt when you fight? I’m assuming they have medics there in case something—”

“If we’re neighbors, then you should know if you ever need anything, I’m in apartment 2B—” Kane slams the door in my face.

Damn

"Kane, man, stop," someone yells. "The cops are already on their way. He's going to press charges if you keep going."

"Fucking let him," I snarl, a burst of energy making me try again to break free of the bouncer's grip. "I'll kill him before they get here." "Kane, enough," another voice barks. "What the fuck, man. I can’t keep covering for you with this shit.”

“If you stop now, I can say it was his fault. But I can't protect you if you keep going." "Hey!" the guy protests, clutching his bleeding nose. "He attacked me! How am I the one at fault here?"

"Did you… just get home?" My disbelief grows by another mile. "How the fuck would that be any of your business?" She has the good grace to blush. "You're right, that was rude. It's not my business at all, I'm sorry…" She trails off as I continue to stare at her. With a rough swallow, she works up the nerve to say what she came here to say.

"You know what, I'll just go buy some. Don't worry about it." "I wasn’t going to worry about it,” I sneer.

course. Sorry to bother you so early. Have a good rest of your day."

And I’m left with the scent of her floral shampoo and the sight of her ridiculously cute pajamas with bunnies on the butt. I never end up falling back asleep.

what's his story? Why's he so… intense?" Hailey snorts. "Intense is a tame way of putting it."

"To be honest, no one really knows. Jax said he just showed up at the gym one day a few months ago. Told Coach he was new to this part of Philly and looking for a local MMA gym. Didn't look at the prices, didn't ask about classes or Coach's pedigree, just asked if they're taking on MMA fighters and whether or not we had some big guys for him to work with. Took one look at Jax working out with Tristan, handed over a wad of cash, and asked where he needed to sign. He's barely said ten words since then." I hear the concern in her voice. "Sounds like there might be some bad blood there now."

"Not necessarily bad blood, but…" She straightens and turns to me. "Look, I know I told you the other day that fighters aren’t just people looking for violence, but Kane… Kane seems to be the exception. He doesn’t approach fighting the same way the other guys do. He doesn’t care about taking the technique classes, or about getting better at the sport. Every time I se...

"Something tells me Kane has bad blood with a lot of people." She pauses, then adds, "He broke Jax's nose during a warmup a few weeks ago. Since then, those two don't really train together."

"Settle into it, Kane, you don't have to throw everything at once!" I hear his coach yell from the corner. Kane either doesn't hear or doesn't care.

"Kane, we have to defend those," his coach yells. "Remember, we're not just throwing hands.”

"Oh my God," I breathe. Hailey winces and hurries to tell me, "That's not as bad as it looks, I swear. Technically, they tell you to fight until the ref pulls you off your opponent. It's totally legal."

looks exactly the same as he did at the start of the fight. Scowling face, sweat-drenched, with his muscles vibrating with the promise of pain. He looks like he could—or wants to—go another few rounds with someone. "Jesus, he's hot," I breathe.

“Same reason everyone else is,” I answer breathily. “I just wanted to watch the fights.” He still hasn’t really turned to look at me. But I see him scoff, right before he says, “Doesn't really seem like your scene, princess."

“Did the blood turn you on, rich girl?”

Have you ever even seen a fight? Or has your life been so privileged that you fight your battles with words?” His tone is mocking when he says the last part.

“I’ve never seen any fights,” I confirm with a shake of my head. “But the physicality of it is impressive, and I’m sure it takes a lot of skill to do what you—”

"Do you see a doctor after you fight? For your injuries?” Kane barks out a cruel laugh. "A doctor? For this?"

"Well, I'm sure the injury to your hand is normal, but you have a cut on your face. Don't you need stitches or something?" He turns to me with a grin that is a little manic and a lot complicated. "You have no idea, do you?"

"About when I need stitches after I've been punched in the face? No, I don't. But let's not act like I don't know injuries. Your bloody bruises might come from fists and show on your face, but mine come f...

"Sure, princess," he drawls. "Your sport is as physically grueling as mine."

“Are all fighters this stubborn? You might have a few less scars if you weren’t too proud to ask for help.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” he says as he walks away.

😭😭

"Kane, what's up with your shoulder?" I hear Coach yell from the outside of the cage. "Nothing," I say through gritted teeth. "I'm fine. Keep going."

"Kane, you're doing another round," Coach barks after the round ends. I grind my jaw and nod stiffly. Round One, I get Aiden. Easy money. Round Two, Jax again. I barely survive his annoyance, but I make it. Round Three, Tristan.

"Kane, why the fuck aren't you throwing your left hook?" Coach’s voice reeks of impatience. "I'm trying to throw more right hands," I growl. "Bullshit," he snaps. "You're ignoring your left arm. Why?" Before I can make up a lie, he's striding into the cage and grabbing my left elbow.

"That's what I thought," he says. "Why wouldn't you tell me you pulled the muscle?"

Coach shakes his head, disapproval emanating from his body. "You're done," he says as he steps out of the cage. "Take a few days off to rest the shoulder. I don't want to see you back in here until you can throw a left hook without wincing." "A few days?"

"I can't stay away that long, I'll go crazy."

"Just let me take tomorrow off,"

"And then when I come back, I'll just work my southpaw stance, no left hands. I'll let the arm rest." "No. No sparring," he says without hesitation. "I can't keep you from working out, but stay out of this gym."