44. Gavin

FORTY-FOUR

gavin

One month later

“DAMMIT, GAVIN, YOU’VE been holding out on us. Why didn’t you say there were half-naked musclemen crawling the place?” Travis gave a very appreciative once-over to the fighters gathered on one side of the gym, which was more like a warehouse with a massive ring in the center of the space.

It was packed with spectators wanting to check out the new lineup of up-and-coming fighters being showcased. I saw more than a few in the crowd from Daire’s underground fighting days, and I wondered if they were here just to watch him.

“Steer clear of those,” West told Travis. “’Roid rage is a thing.”

“So is erectile dysfunction,” I added.

Travis looked back at the guys with disappointment creasing his brow. “Seriously? All those muscles and they can’t get it up? How fuckin’ disappointing.”

Donovan bumped me with his shoulder. “Nervous?”

“Um. Yeah. Obviously.” Truth was, I was almost more nervous for Daire’s opponents. Our friends still had no idea about Daire’s underground fights, thinking I’d convinced him to channel his rage into something more productive. They had no clue what the man could do, or that the Reaper tattoo on his back wasn’t because he was obsessed with death, but because he could bring it.

Then again, this was still pretty new for him, and he wasn’t a fan of rules. There was no telling how today would go.

“Well, hopefully he’ll still have a face when this is over. I’ve seen how these things can go.”

“Gee, thanks, Van. That’s super helpful. Why don’t you go give D those words of encouragement and see how your face ends up?”

He held his hands up. “Touché.”

Preston walked back over from the makeshift drink stand and unscrewed the cap of his water bottle. “Is it bad I wish East was here so we could accidentally push him in the ring?”

I shook my head. “Pretty sure we’ve all thought that more than once.”

“We should’ve put a hidden camera in the dean’s office when we pranked her last year,” West said. “Then we could’ve seen the look on East’s face today when she called him and that TA in there to tell him he wouldn’t get his credits if he didn’t finish his assignment.”

“Fuckin’ priceless.” Travis laughed. “That guy Zac gives him so much shit, and he’s had to take it. I’d be watching my back if I was him, though. East enjoys retaliation a little too much.”

“And he’ll include us in that, no doubt,” West agreed. “The last thing I need is being on another Astor shitlist.”

The lights dimmed a couple of times, indicating the matches were about to start, and I searched for Daire in the mix of fighters, trying to ignore the butterflies suddenly swirling around in my stomach. As soon as I rose onto my tiptoes, I saw him, and he was already looking my way, like he knew I’d be a ball of worry—which I was trying not to be.

When our eyes locked, I was relieved to see how unbothered he was about the fight, and that settled my stomach somewhat. The announcer began to welcome everyone to the showcase, and Daire winked at me before going back to putting on his gloves.

I took that time to look over his potential opponents, though I knew better than to base anything on size. Daire had taken out guys a foot taller and twice as wide like it was nothing.

“Tonight you’ll be getting a taste of the next generation of fighters to come out of Xtreme MMA. We’ve produced the top fighters in the country for years, and this is the toughest group of men and women we’ve ever had. We’re gonna kick things off with two of our new recruits, Tanya and Bobbi.”

As the two women took up their sides of the ring and the fight began, I could see my friends’ eyes go wide.

“Shit, they’re vicious,” Preston said, and the fact that he looked totally out of place in a sweater vest made his comment even funnier to me.

Actually, none of us fit in among the crowd, even though Daire had insisted I wear his leather jacket and a hat again. But the fact that everyone came—minus East, who was doing his own form of punishment—meant the world to Daire, even though he’d never say it. He was finally coming to understand that even with all the hell we gave each other, we’d always be there to support or bury the bodies.

Even though I worried someone would one day take the latter too literally.

Someone tall stepped in front of us, camera flashing and blocking our view.

“Hey, asshole,” Travis said, “You’re in the w—” His words cut off as the guy turned around, his face an all-too-familiar one. Surprise lit Travis’s eyes before his expression darkened. “Caleb? What the hell are you doing here?”

The guy lifted up the badge he wore around his neck. “I was hired for the event. Calm down.”

“How about you and your camera fuck off somewhere else?”

Caleb stared at him with inscrutable eyes for a long moment, and it looked like he wanted to say something before he shook his head and snapped his mouth shut. He backed away without another word, heading over to the other side of the ring, while beside me Travis practically vibrated with some emotion I couldn’t understand.

“You okay?”

He forced his shoulders down and blew out a breath. “Yep.”

It was strange to see Travis of all people so worked up, since he was such a damn flirt with everyone who crossed his path. All but one.

The crowd shouted suddenly, and I looked back up to the ring to see one of the women pinned with her leg behind her head.

“Vicious and flexible,” Preston murmured as the referee counted down and then declared the woman on top the winner.

“Regretting switching sides already?” I teased.

“Uh, no. I’d actually be terrified to lie in a bed beside either one of them.”

I couldn’t blame him for that. The women were fierce and could certainly kick any of our asses. Then again, Preston was best friends with Serena, and if he could survive her finding out he was dating her dad, I was pretty sure he could handle the two down on the mat.

I was about to tell him so when the fairly calm crowd erupted in a chant: “Reaper! Reaper! Reaper!”

I stiffened, knowing I must’ve missed Daire’s announcement. In just a pair of shorts and sparring gloves, he stepped into the ring as the announcer introduced his opponent.

Daire had already been in amazing shape, but all his weeks of training had added a few pounds of muscle that I’d definitely taken advantage of.

“Reaper?” West reached over and shoved me in the arm. “Isn’t that what’s inked on your boy’s back?”

He got his answer when Daire turned away, the tattoo on his back on full display.

Nearby, a couple of the guys I recognized from the underground blew out whistles, and then one said, “Holy shit, he’s even bigger than he was at the last fight.”

“Twenty bucks says he forgets the rules and accidentally murders this guy.”

The guy snorted. “They don’t call him the Reaper for nothing.”

Donovan wasn’t shy about eavesdropping on their conversation, and as he looked between Daire and the two in the crowd, he whacked me in the arm.

“What’s he mean, ‘last fight’? I thought this was his first fight.”

I wasn’t touching that. I kept my lips zipped and ignored my brother staring a hole in the side of my face.

“Wait,” Travis said. “That tattoo is a nickname? I thought he was into some weird-ass voodoo shit on the roof or something.”

Leave it to him to butt into a stranger’s conversation.

“Hey,” he said, tapping one on the shoulder. “You’ve seen that Reaper dude fight before, huh?”

“Fight?” The guy scoffed. “More like annihilate. Not sure he knows how to do anything else. I already placed bets he’ll lose his shit and throat-punch his opponent.”

Travis’s eyes widened. “Uh, is there something you’re not tellin’ us, young Truitt?” he asked me.

With all our friends’ eyes on me, keeping my lips zipped was becoming an increasingly difficult task.

“Is Daire some secret assassin warrior fighter?” West waggled his brows.

“Yeah, that’s exactly it.” I shook my head and directed them to focus their attention on the ring. “How about you all just shut up and watch?”

“Someone is a little bit touchy,” Travis pointed out, but that wasn’t it at all. I was nervous. Daire had trained so hard for this, and wanted it so badly, I couldn’t help but worry what would happen if things didn’t go well.

I watched with laser focus as Daire and his opponent met in the middle of the ring with the referee, who was no doubt telling them to have a clean fight, touch gloves, and head back to their corners. Unlike the host of the underground, who basically said, Anything goes, just don’t kill each other.

“Gav, you okay?” Donovan rubbed my arm. “You look a little pale.”

“How can you tell?” West laughed to himself, but Preston nodded.

“He does look a shade whiter than usual.”

“I’m just… I’m nervous, okay?” I said.

“Oh, come on, any guy that has a reaper inked on him isn’t going down without a fight.” Travis pursed his lips, giving me a once-over. “I mean, does he? Go down without a fight?”

I shoved him in the arm. “Like I’d tell you.”

“Man, what is it with everyone lately? You find a guy, hook up, and suddenly it’s like you all signed some sexual NDA. You used to be such a fun bunch. It’s so disappointing.”

“Yeah, because now we care about who we’re with.” Donovan patted him on the shoulder. “You should try it sometime.”

I tuned Travis out and focused back on the ring. My nerves eased somewhat as Daire ran his tongue over the required mouth guard. He’d bitched and moaned after every training match about how uncomfortable the damn thing was, and while I commiserated, I was secretly happy to know that he would finally have some sort of protection during his fight. Including the sparring gloves he wore.

The sound of the mic switching on came over the sound system and filtered through the speakers as the referee looked at Daire and said, “Ready to fight?” When Daire nodded, the referee turned his attention to his opponent and asked the same question. Once he got the all-clear, he clapped his hands together and the bell sounded.

The crowd quieted, a hum of excitement filling the warehouse as the two men began to size one another up. This part of the fight felt very similar to the underground, the way Daire was zeroing in on his opponent, no doubt looking for any kind of tells before he pounced—then it happened.

Daire was across the mat, striking out first with a quick jab to the chest and cross-blow to the jaw, starting off strong. His opponent fell back a step, stumbling over his feet at the force of that first punch. But he was quick to recover, bouncing back on his toes like he hadn’t just seen the Milky Way spinning over his head. His eyes tracked Daire as they moved around the ring.

I brought a hand up to my mouth, biting down on my nail, as the guy made a rush for Daire. He kicked out and landed a blow to Daire’s thigh at the same time he struck him with an uppercut to the face.

“Motherfucking ouch!” West winced as Daire’s head snapped back, and I couldn’t help but do the same, because that one had to hurt.

“Reaper! Reaper!” The crowd started up again, and like something had just gone off in his brain—or been knocked loose—Daire straightened, rolled his shoulders, and narrowed his eyes on the man opposite him.

The Reaper had finally come out to play.

“Is it me or does Daire look like he suddenly wants to—oh shit”—Travis feinted to the left like he was the one dodging Daire’s fist—“kill that guy?”

Another cross-hook, and Daire was grabbing “that guy’s” shoulders and pulling him down to land a hard knee strike to the stomach. There was a loud gasp of air from the man as Daire moved in, shifted slightly down, then hooked a leg around his opponent’s and tackled him to the ground.

Once they were there, there was a whole lot of rolling around and punching that was difficult to see from where we stood. But since the referee didn’t call a stop to it, I figured it was all by the rules as Daire straddled his opponent and began to land strike after strike to his head.

“Sweet mother of— Gavin?” Travis grinned at me. “You let him straddle you like this at home?”

I flipped him off, but my eyes never wavered from the fight. Daire tightened his thighs and rolled, moving the two of them across the mat until he was taking the other man in a chokehold. Daire wound an arm around his neck and his legs around his waist.

I caught West in my periphery looking my way. “Don’t say it.”

“So that’s a yes. Got it.”

I shook my head, but as the man in Daire’s hold thumped the mat once, twice, and then a third time, the fight was called and the Reaper reigned supreme.

“Hell yes!” I called out as the crowd went wild.

The guys whooped and whistled, there were more chants of “Reaper, Reaper!” and as the referee held up Daire’s arm, I could’ve sworn he almost grinned.

Almost.

“The next match begins in ten minutes,” the announcer said, and as the lights went up again, I pushed through the crowd in the direction Daire had gone.

I wasn’t sure whether it was okay to hug him or show any kind of affection in this setting, in front of all these people, so as I approached I kept my hands to myself, though I couldn’t have dimmed my smile if I tried.

But if there was one thing I loved about Daire, it was that he gave no fucks whatsoever.

As soon as I was in grabbing distance, he swooped me into his arms, lifted me clear off my feet, and crashed his lips down on mine. His skin was slick with sweat, and I could feel the way the adrenaline was still running through him from his rapid heartbeat.

I didn’t care. I was so damn excited for him and glad his head was still on his shoulders that he could’ve been a bloody mess and I still would’ve wrapped myself around him.

He pulled his head back to look at me but still kept his arms tight around my waist. “You proud? I didn’t break any rules.”

I laughed and gave him another quick kiss, glad he’d removed the mouth guard already. “Keep that up and you might have the whole place chanting your name next time.”

“Fuck me, that was insane,” West said as the guys caught up to us.

“Yeah, I knew you liked to punch things, but that was impressive,” Preston added.

Daire lowered me to my feet but kept me close. “If you want me to practice on anyone, let me know.”

“Uh, I have a serious bone to pick with you, and not the kind I like.” Travis crossed his arms. “Reaper? You have some explaining to do.”

Daire glanced at me, and I shook my head, letting him know I hadn’t said a word.

“Amazing fight, man,” Donovan said, bumping knuckles with Daire, who still wore his gloves. “Kelly would love watching this shit.”

Daire nodded in acknowledgment, and I elbowed him to say something.

“I, uh, appreciate you guys being here.” The words came out stilted, but they were more than he’d ever bothered with in the past.

Preston smiled, answering for everyone. “Yeah?”

Daire nodded. “Yeah.”

It was like no one had any clue what to say to something nice coming out of his mouth, and when an awkward silence passed, Daire cleared his throat and added, “Now get the fuck out so I can spend time with my guy.”

Now that they knew how to respond to. They all peaced out and headed for the exit.

“Free to leave, or do you have to stay?” I asked, grinning at him and hoping for option one.

“You should know by now.” He pulled me back in, flush with his body. “I do want I want.”

“I like that…” I was shameless, rubbing myself against him, and he lowered his mouth to my ear.

“And right now I wanna do you.”

I turned my head so I could capture those sweet-talking lips, but I’d barely brushed my mouth over his when Travis came back.

“Wait, you never answered about the Rea⁠—”

“Fuck off,” Daire growled in a tone that brooked no argument, and I chuckled as he closed the distance between us again. “Now, where were we?”