Read Online Ringside by Elodie Chase - Free Book Online Page A

with just a hint of whine, “that
the bookies had this change dumped on them at the last second just like you and
I did. They aren’t exactly sure what to make of it, so they’re-”
    “What are the
fucking odds, Jessie?”
    “Six to one
against you. The smart money is for a knock out in the third.”
    Right. Which meant
that Krusev had come back from wherever he’d been the last few months looking
bigger and meaner than ever. “Is Sloane here?”
    “What? Angel, man,
you listening to yourself? You gotta focus. Who cares if some bitch showed or
not? You have to pay attention to the fight that’s five minutes away, not the
pussy that may or may not want your attention.”
    I brought my
gloved hand down on his shoulder hard enough to make him sputter. “That’s
enough of that shit out of you. Now tell me if my girl’s here.”
    He nodded slowly,
rubbing his shoulder like a scolded child. “Yeah. Jai said she got here about
ten minutes ago. She wouldn’t let him show where you’d set seats up for her,
though. Some shit about her being ‘her on her own’, whatever that means.”
    I opened my mouth
to tell her to find him, to make sure she was okay and maybe, just maybe to get
her out of her if things went bad for me. But the guy running the fight shouted
my name, and the crowd went from a rumble to a roar, drowning me out.
    Time to earn my
money.

Sloane

 
 
 
    I expected them to
ring a bell or something to start the fight, but all the guy that seemed to be
in charge of the festivities did was shout “Go!” at the top of his lungs.
    Then again, I’d
expected there to be a boxing ring.
    And a referee…
    Angel and the big
blonde fighter everyone had been calling ‘Nitro” charged at each other like
wild animals released from their cages, crashing together in the center of the
concrete and smashing at each other with their gloved fists.
    If all of the rest
of the evening didn’t clue me in, I knew right then and there that I was in for
a spectacle I’d only ever be able to think of as gruesome.
    Nitro was taller
than Angel, and his reach was longer too. Both men seemed happy to trade
punches, but it didn’t take more than thirty seconds to see that Angel’s style
hadn’t changed much from the videos I’d watched last night. He planted his feet
and took the punishment, sending screaming right hooks and devastating
uppercuts in whenever there was an opening.
    His punches were
landing, but so were the other guys. By the time the sound of an air horn
ripped through the parking garage to signal the end of the first round, Angel’s
face was already sporting a cut above his left eye, and his other eye was
starting to swell. I doubted it would be much longer before it started to get
in the way of his vision, and when that happened I didn’t like his chance.
    Nitro’s nose,
already crooked to begin with, was clearly broken again. Blood streamed freely
from both of his nostril as a guy on his team crammed what looked like Vaseline
up there to stop the bleeding. Angel had a guy working on his cut too, along
with a fat, sweaty grease ball of a man who hovered around him, offering
advice.
    I pushed through
the crowd to get closer to Angel. I didn’t want him to see me, afraid that I’d
throw him off his game. Still, I wanted to hear what this guy was telling him.
    When I did, I
ground my teeth in frustration.
    “Another couple of
rounds just like that and you’ve got him, Angel,” the fat guy was saying.
“Listen to this crowd. They love it! What a spectacle. Knock out the Russian
and you’re on your way to the big time for sure!”
    Right. Another
round or two of the same sort of fighting may well be entertaining to the
bloodthirsty people in attendance, but it was definitely not the way he should be fighting.
    “Did she show up?”
I heard Angel mutter.
    Angel was sitting
down on a stool, which made it easy for the fat guy to look right over his
shoulder and lock eyes with me. “Yeah, she’s here