Chapter 14

Killian danced in place, swinging his fists in the air. The deep blue MMA shorts he wore swooshed against his powerful legs from the speed with which he swiveled his body. “Come on, Kill!” Angus yelled, holding the body shield in front of him.

The force of Killian’s kick rammed Angus back. “That’s it, bro,” Declan called out. “Keep it going. You got this.”

Angus scurried around, running out of space in the small expanse of Killian’s private dressing room. Outside in the arena, the capacity crowd roared, their collective voices pounding against the heavy metal door like fists.

“Harder, Kill!” Seamus yelled. “Make every hit count!”

A flatscreen remained untouched in the corner. Killian didn’t want to watch the other matches. He preferred to keep his focus on what he needed to do. To his family’s credit, they didn’t abandon him to sit among the rows of MMA enthusiasts. They remained dutifully at his side, offering support as only the O’Briens could.

“Drop your head more, Kill,” Finn added. “That’s it—yeah, keep it going.”

Wren elbowed me gently where we sat on the black leather couch. “You hanging in, Sofe?”

“I just want him to be okay,” I told her truthfully. Sitting there, watching him warm up, the crowd roaring behind that door, made the moment so real—Everything before that, the workouts, the sparring, seemed like they’d happened long ago and far from the bedlam.

“I hear you, kid.” Wren’s expression remained hard. She was worried about Killian getting hurt, too. MMA was probably the most brutal sport out there. And those that made it their career paid in pain and permanent injuries.

Killian had never intended to make a career out of MMA. He saw the winnings as a means to establish a business. Fighting came naturally to him and was something he was great at, but it wasn’t something he could count on to last. For this reason, and probably more, it was easy for him to promise his mother that he’d retire within the next year. For me, his retirement couldn’t come fast enough.

As worried as Wren seemed, she did smirk when Killian sent Angus flying. “Try not to stress, Sofe. Kill’s got this—so long as he mixes it up, and doesn’t revert back to what Marsh will expect, that dumbass pussy doesn’t stand a chance.” She grinned and motioned to me. “Though I’m surprised he can even focus. You look like you should be doing the runway walk in Milan or something crazy like that. Where’d you get that dress?”

I smiled a little. “Evie took me to this boutique she used to frequent. I forget the name but I can find out if you’d like.” I fanned out the full skirt to show her the details. The entire dress was bright white, with gold metallic embroidery that gradually interwove with silver as the pattern cascaded down. I didn’t typically wear anything strapless, since it showed more skin than I was comfortable with, but the dress was so lovely, I couldn’t resist.

The fight was high profile. We’d passed some celebrities on the way into the arena. Some were famous Hollywood types still going strong, others were from old reality shows and desperate to cling to any attention they could get. The majority stopped to pose for the press. We made our way in without so much as a glance at the camera. With the exception of his required interviews following the fight, Killian said he was done talking to them.

His decision didn’t surprise me. But I supposed if he was an attention seeker, I wouldn’t love him like I did.

I let the pretty satin fabric pass along my fingers. I was told a lot of the women present would be in gowns, intermixing with the classy broads wearing FUCK ME, KILLIAN T-shirts like the ones Wren, Finn, and I had come across when we strolled down the boardwalk earlier in the day. Finn offered to buy me one. I’d politely passed on his generous offer.

I smiled at Wren. The sexy black halter dress she wore appeared designed just for her. The hem stopped a few inches above her knees, showing off her killer legs. Aside from prom night all those years ago, this was the most dolled up I’d ever seen her. She’d ditched her braids and let her long dark hair drape around her like a veil. “You look beautiful,” I told her.

“The head of ad promo for the fight asked me out.” She shrugged. “I figured I’d bring him along for dinner and maybe hit some parties afterward.”

“Dominico? Wow. He’s cute.”

“Yeah. I guess. But he’s a little too pretty for my tastes. I want someone I can work out with and talk sports and cars with, too, you feel me? You may not have noticed, Sofe, but I’m not exactly the daintiest flower you’ll ever meet.”

“I might have noticed.”

“Yeah, yeah. But we grew up together.” She scoffed. “Dominico’s talking about taking me to Paris and feeding me chocolate croissants beneath the Eiffel Tower with his fingers. What kind of fucked-up shit is that?”

I giggled into my hands. “You just need someone more rugged, I think. After all, you did grow up with six brothers.”

“I hear you.” She considered me for a beat. “What about you? You think Kill’s who you need?”

I fumbled with the little purse Evie had lent me as I thought about what to say. “He makes me happy,” I finally managed.

Killian winked my way when I glanced up. He was done with his warm-up and was talking strategy with his brothers. Wren laughed at the sight of my blush. “Oh, Sofe, you have it so bad for him.” She leaned in close to whisper. “You know, that dress of yours almost looks like a wedding gown. You and Kill planning to get hitched while we’re down here?” My deepening blush made her laugh harder. “Aw, hell. I suppose that answers that.”

There was a knock to the door before one of the producers stuck his head in. “Two minutes, champ.”

Seamus clapped him on the shoulder. “You ready?”

Killian took a pull of his water. “Yeah. I’m ready.” He handed Curran his bottle and walked over to me. “Can you give us a minute?”

Everyone piled outside without a word as Killian gathered me to him. “You all right?”

No. I don’t want to see you get hurt. “I’m fine. Just please be careful.”

“I will.”

My body leaned into his when he kissed me.

“Kill—Kill. Come on. It’s time.”

Killian led me forward, turning me over to Curran and Declan. “Stay with Sofia. No one leaves her, got me?”

They nodded. I stood with them and watched Killian disappear with Angus, Seamus, and Finn down the long stretch of hallway and out of sight. It was time. He was ready.

Too bad I wasn’t.

Declan rubbed my shoulder. “Don’t worry, Sofi. He’ll be fine, honey.”

The crowd’s roar reached an epic crescendo. Killian was now in their sight. I bowed my head and asked God to keep him safe. I glanced up in time to see Declan, Curran, and Wren lift their heads. Yeah. They’d done the same.

With one last sigh, Declan led me forward and toward the madness.

I thought for sure my head would explode from the rush of adrenaline and hoots and hollers taking place behind me. “Fuck me, Killian!” some girl with that T-shirt yelled a few rows back.

Wren stood and screamed back, “Shut up, whore!”

And she did.

Wren took her seat beside me. “Thank you,” I told her.

“Anytime, Sofe.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Bitch needs to go to church and get some fucking morals.”

I gripped my borrowed purse in my lap, watching Killian as he bounced in place. His focus had long left me; now it trained on Marsh like he was a target.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Le Grand Casino…”

My hands twisted the small fabric purse as the sponsors’ names were read off one by one.

“…welcome to tonight’s super heavyweight main e-vent…”

“I love you, Killian!” someone screamed.

No. That would be me. Blood pounded in my ears, fading the announcer’s voice in and out.

“…between Kill-i-an O’Brien…”

His stats were read, but I think they might have been off.

“…and Mar-shall Anderson…”

More stats. This time Marsh’s.

Followed by gentle encouragement from his fans. “Rip his head off, Marsh!”

I covered my eyes, dropping my hand away from my face in time for the ref to rush in. He motioned the men forward, telling them to have a clean fight, before growling, “Let’s get it on!”

Killian and Marshall bounced in place, watching, waiting. Their stares so intense, so unyielding, they promised pain.

Seconds. That was all that remained before—

The men collided, both swinging in a torrent of fists. We sprang to our feet. “Come on, Kill, come on!” Angus yelled.

Marsh lowered his hips, shot forward, underhooking Killian’s leg and slamming him to the mat.

No!

Killian shifted his hips, rolling Marsh onto his back and nailing him in the face with an elbow. Marsh pivoted his hips and spun Killian into the cage.

Killian used his legs and back against the cage to push himself and Marsh to their feet, both men swinging and exchanging knees as they rose. Right hook. Jab. Jab. Left hook. Uppercut. Pounding each other, loud enough for us to hear each blow.

They broke apart, both panting. Marsh tried to kick, but that was Killian’s specialty. He avoided the attack and slammed his right instep behind Marsh’s knee, taking him to the ground.

The bell rang, ending the first round.

I sat slowly, briefly aware of what Killian’s family was saying, distracted by the blood streaming from the cut over Killian’s eye.

“Fuck, Marsh’s strong,” Seamus spat.

“That piece of shit, Gil, taught him everything—all Kill’s moves, his weak points—everything,” Angus muttered.

“Kill needs to finish him in this round,” Wren added.

“Yeah,” Declan agreed. “They’re too evenly matched. Too easy for things not to go Kill’s way.”

The bell rang again before I was ready. Marsh charged, diving for Killian’s front leg. Killian side-stepped and lunged forward, taking him down to the mat. Each man fought to gain the upper hand while the crowd lost its mind.

I’d never seen anything like it. Both laid into each other, using every ounce of their muscle and bulk, their massive bodies colliding hard. Each time I thought Marsh had him, Killian would switch it up, wrenching back control.

Marsh wrapped both arms around Killian’s knees and powered through with a double-leg takedown, forcing him into the metal grating. I covered my mouth to hold back a scream when they landed on the mat with Marsh on top, his fist crashing into Killian’s skull.

From where we sat, I could see Marsh swinging, and Killian lying there with his legs up and his arms guarding his face and head. Killian’s family lost it, their fear for their brother making them vocal.

“What’s he doing? Kill, Kill!

“Get up, Kill. Get up!”

“Fuck. Kill, move—move!”

“Use your weight, Kill. Use your goddamn weight—shit!”

I took every one of those hits he did, felt every last blow, like it was me lying beneath Marsh’s heavy body. I’d been there too many times growing up—receiving cruel strikes from someone bigger, stronger, that I could never protect myself against.

My chest constricted painfully as Marsh’s punches began to slow. I thought he was getting tired—I thought he was close to beating Killian—until he missed his last punch and collapsed in a heap.

Killian rose with his hands up, dancing in place, ready for more.

The ref scissored his arms out, ending the match and lifting Killian’s hand in victory.

My body swayed back and forth and, I swear, I almost face-planted—unlike Killian’s family, who were screaming their heads off and jumping in place. I’d barely taken a breath when I was snatched into the monster of all group hugs.

Wren held me at arm’s length when she caught my whitening face. “You okay, Sofe?”

The best I could do was shake my head. She lowered me carefully to the chair. “Wh-what happened?” I stammered.

Seamus shoved his face in mine, laughing. “Gracie Jiu-Jitsu—he won, Sofi, he won!”

My eyes widened as I suddenly understood. Killian took his time on the floor, taking Marsh’s punches and waiting for his opening, then drew him forward with his powerful legs and choked Marsh out…just like my brother had taught him.

In the corner, Marsh’s people were slowly bringing him to. Killian, with Finn and Curran, who’d joined him, gave him plenty of space. Killian’s face was red and swelling rapidly. The gash above his eye trickled a thick stream of blood down his face, despite the white towel he held against it.

Marsh? Good heavens, Killian had messed him up. Only slits remained of his eyes.

To Marsh’s credit, he stood and shook Killian’s hand, then graciously stepped back as Killian was officially announced the winner. He’d now go on to fight in Vegas for the super heavyweight championship. I wrapped my arms around myself. How would I have the strength to support him through this?

Angus reached for me, pulling me back to the moment. “Come on. Let’s head back to the hotel. All hell’s twelve seconds from breaking loose.”

I let Angus and what remained of his family escort me out, but not before I shot one last glance at the Octagon. With all the turmoil, excitement, and people surrounding him, I didn’t think Killian would notice me leaving, until he winked my way.

“Soon,” he mouthed.