Lance clapped him on the shoulder and trotted out of the cage to rejoin Gayle.
As the second round commenced, Mac and Ragin circled around each other. Mac threw a couple of soft jabs to feel out the other fighter. Ragin just weaved back and forth. Apparently, he wasn’t up for another slugfest. That was just fine with Mac. He dove into the fighter’s side, taking him off his feet and crashing him to the canvas on his back. Within seconds, he had Ragin’s arm locked in an arm bar. Immediately, he felt four quick taps to his shoulder. The referee waved his arms, signaling the end of the fight, and Mac released him.
Ragin pounded him on the back. “There’s a reason you made it into the CMC, Hannon. You’re tough as fucking nails. If you ever decide to move up this way, I’d love to have you in my gym.”
And there was that moving topic again.
“It’s definitely something to consider.”
As he walked out, Gayle and Lance came rushing up. She searched his face and kept coming back to rest on his eyebrow. “Are you okay?”
“Trust me, I’ve been a lot worse.”
“I knew MMA was about fighting, but seeing it firsthand—holy shit. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll meet you guys in the bar. I could use a beer.”
He gave Gayle a quick kiss, then hurried back inside the area behind the tarp. The wife of one of the fighters, who also happened to be an ER nurse, was volunteering. Knowing he needed at least to get the wound taped, he sat down.
She cleaned it and put a butterfly bandage over it. “Looks like you took some good hits out there.” She peered at him. “Along the jaw and the nose.”
“Ragin packs quite a punch,” he said as he stood up. “Thanks.”
In fact, he had a slight headache. Nothing a couple of aspirin wouldn’t cure, but it had been a long time since he’d had his noggin rung hard enough in the cage to leave a dull throb in it.
After he showered and changed back into his jeans and T-shirt, he stepped into the bar. Rock music was thumping from the speakers. Some of the fighters had stayed to enjoy the rest of the night. The place was jamming. He ordered a beer from the bartender, then scanned the room for Lance and Gayle. Neither of them were to be found. A momentary sense of panic rushed over him, then rational thought took control. Gayle probably had to go to the bathroom and Lance had escorted her there so she didn’t get hit on by any more men. That made sense. Something bad happening to her, didn’t.
“I saw you kissin’ Gayle.”
At the intrusive voice, Mac glanced over. The brown-haired motherfucker who’d dared touch Gayle was standing beside him. Sort of. The man reeked of alcohol, and he swayed alarmingly. A glassy sheen of inebriation glazed his eyes.
Goddammit, this was all he needed.
“What the fuck do you want?” he asked with no attempt to cover his hostility. Seemed the old Mac was still in there.
“Ah. You did see me hittin’ on her.” Chuckling, the jackass shrugged. “Can’t blame a man for tryin’. So you’re her current boy toy. Go, Gayle.”
This drunk ass was seriously starting to get on Mac’s nerves. He took a long swallow of beer, eyes sweeping the bar for her. And then she was there, stepping out from the hallway where the bathrooms were.
The guy grunted appreciatively. “Damn, I miss that fuckin’ body.”
Taken aback by the audacity of the man, sloshed out of his senses or not, Mac slowly turned his head and glared at him. “Dude. Are you fucking asking to get your teeth shoved down your throat?”
“What? I only got a piece of that a couple of times.” He smacked Mac on the back like they were buddies. “Enjoy it while it lasts, bro, ‘cause she’s gonna drop you fast and then you’ll be just like me, wishin’ for one more round.” As Gayle neared them, he muttered, “Hell, why not?”
Next thing Mac knew, Gayle was in the drunk’s arms, his mouth all over hers, and Mac saw red. Slamming down his glass, he yanked the fucker around and clocked him one on the jaw. The drunk crumbled on the spot. Mouth dropped open, Gayle stared down, then looked up at Mac with an expression that clearly said, “What the hell are you doing?” then stared back down at the guy.
Mac threw up his hands. What the fuck had he done wrong? He wasn’t the one mauling her, that asshole was.
“Kevin,” she said as she stooped beside him. Hot, potent jealousy flared bright at her obvious concern for the dickweed. “Are you okay?”
Mac clenched his teeth.
Kevin rubbed his jaw. “Holy shit. Gayle, did you see that? I just had a CMC fighter punch me. How fucking cool is that?”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s fine.”
As she stood, she didn’t even glance in Mac’s direction, just marched her beautiful, furious ass out of the bar. And all Mac could do was follow, wondering where the fuck he’d gone wrong.