I couldn’t stop staring at her. Seven years ago, she had been my good luck charm at the state championship wrestling tournament that had gotten me on the radar of the coach at Oklahoma State, the match that wound up getting me the full ride. Until I got kicked out of college.
"Saint," Trigg said, slapping my face. "Come on. Get your shit in the game."
"I'm fucking ready," I said. Hearing my name called out, I stepped away from Trigg and acknowledged the referee. When my eyes met Coker’s, I couldn’t help but grin; he’d have been expecting some second-rate substitute fighter, not me. Even in the haze of adrenaline and the chaos of the moment, I could tell he was livid.
When the bell rang, Rush charged forward, coming at me with a barrage of strikes that I dodged, focused only on wearing him out. Someone should have taught him about not gassing yourself in the first thirty seconds of a fight. I stepped in, delivering a series of low kicks that landed on the inside of his thigh, then as he staggered forward, to the side and back of one of his legs. One of them landed just above his knee, and he shouted as he fell backwards onto the mat.
“End it, Silas,” I heard Trigg scream from the corner.
So I did. The rest of the fight was a blur as I finished Rush. I was dazed, my vision clouded, blurred by adrenaline and the haze of rage. I’m not sure I would have stopped if someone hadn’t pulled me off him after the fight had been called.
When I stood, I made eye contact with Coker again.
Fuck him. I knew he had to have bet on his guy; he would have figured some two-bit fighter would have come in to replace Abel tonight.
I hoped he had lost big.
I hoped more than that happened to him. He deserved to have more than that happen to him.
The referee held my fist up in a victory pose, and I stood there, still, watching Tempest.
She remembered me - I could see it in her eyes. I didn't know whether to be pleased or pissed off about that.
Beside her, Coker yelled something and stormed off, his face scarlet. And then Tempest started to walk away.
She paused for a moment, looking over her shoulder, and gave me the briefest of smiles.
Damn it.
I went after her. Shrugging off the people who surrounded me, trying to congratulate me on my victory, I pushed through the crowd, looking for her, but she was already gone.
When I turned around, Trigg was there, his hand on my shoulder, clapping me hard. I was still scanning, looking for Tempest in the crowd, half-convinced she was just a figment of my imagination or some remnant of the head injury I'd incurred months ago.
"Where are you going?” Trigg asked. “Shit, man. That was an awesome fight. You did it. You beat Rush's ass. And Coker looks fucking pissed off, too."
"Yeah," I said, distracted. "Did you see that girl?”
“What girl?” Trigg asked. “Hell, this fight is it, Saint. It’s your comeback. Take a look around. All of these girls are going to be throwing themselves at you. You’re going to be flooded with so much * you won’t be able to see straight.”
“The woman with Coker,” I said, still looking behind him. “Did you see her?”
"I have no idea who she was, if that’s what you’re asking," he said. "One of his new girls, maybe? She was hot shit, though. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed. Why? You have the hots for her? You want me to ask around?”
One of his new girls. Why the hell did the thought of that make me want to beat the ever living shit out of something?
“Yeah,” I said. “Ask around. Find out who she is.”
“You got it.”
“Have you heard anything from Abel?" I asked.
"I got a text from his wife during the fight," he said. "It's all good, man. Well, as good as can be expected after what happened. She said his insurance from the plant will cover them. He's got a couple of broken ribs, and the doctor says it looks promising for his leg."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "Shit. That's good."
"It's fucking great, I'd say. You got that purse, too. And against Coker’s guy."
"Yeah." I looked around, scanning the crowd for Coker. "You know that's going to be trouble."
Trigg grinned. "Well, you're not the only person in this town he's pissed off."
"What do you mean?" I asked. "Is something going down?"
"I don't mean anything," Trigg said. "Just that karma has a way of coming back on someone. You do that shit, playing dirty like that, it'll find you eventually."
"Yeah," I said. "Of course, it never hurts to give karma a little push, either."
Trigg looked at me. "What do you have planned?"
Before I could answer, I heard Coker’s voice behind me, and I spun around.
“You cost me good money, you piece of shit,” he snarled, rushing toward me.
I lunged at him, getting in one good swing that connected with his face, sending him skidding to the floor, but a couple of his guys stepped in and threatened to drag me outside. When Trigg blocked them, the owner of the gym got between us.
“Not here, Saint,” Trigg said, standing between me and Coker. “There are too many witnesses.”
Coker wiped his mouth, blood on the corner of his lip. “You’re dead, Saint.”