Page 145 of Unwritten Rules

But he couldn’t have known I’d have brought the boys. Both brothers of the woman whose honour I’m defending.

“Jameson, you’re involved in this madness too?” Henry extends a hand as Jameson eyes it warily.

“You might want to save the pleasantries, brother. Taylor here has irredeemably hurt someone we both care about very deeply.”

Instantly knowing whom I’m referring to, Henry jerks back his hand and grits through a harshly clenched jaw, “If you hurt my sister….”

Jameson, clearly growing some balls of steel at the most inopportune time possible, smiles widely. “Oh, just in the best way, DeMarco. I’m sure she enjoyed it. After all, the rumours are true. I’m hung like a—”

Henry lunges at a grinning Jameson, a keening sound erupting from inside of him as Alex and I step forward to hold him back.

“I’ll fucking destroy you. I’ll damn well kill you, you bastard! You have no idea—”

“Brother.” My voice is a whisper by his ear as my friend’s body vibrates with barely restrained fury. “He’s going to pay. In the ring. At my hands.”

Henry’s shoulders drop slightly at my words, and I push as far as I dare right now.

“He doesn’t get away with hurting the person who makes me feel.”

The fight goes out of his body, and he pulls his arms from Alex’s and my hold, spinning to face me, confusion and a hint of betrayal front and centre in his gold-flecked green eyes.

“Gentlemen, take your places.”

I hold his eyes as I step back, ducking underneath the ropes to climb onto the raised ring in the centre of the space. Henry’s face goes through a kaleidoscope of thoughts until, finally, the realisation of what I meant settles across his familiar features.

He moves to follow me, jaw clenched, eyes filled with a dark rage I’ve not seen in him before, but Alex grips his shoulder, tugging him back to whisper something in his ear.

Henry attempts to shrug his brother off, but Alex holds firm, speaking into his ear again. Whatever he says, Henry stops struggling.

He narrows his eyes at me, his gaze sweeping from mine across the ring to Jameson’s. “Have at it, boys.”

Bowing mockingly, he drops into a seat close by, with Caden and Alex following suit on either side.

“Right. Now, lads, you know the drill. So let’s keep it clean, yeah?”

Harold’s voice is a whisper, meant just for us as his intense stare holds first my gaze, then Jameson’s, before he nods once.

“Five rounds of two minutes each unless ended by TKO,” Harold booms through the room, holding the attention of all present. “Shake hands, gentlemen.”

Taylor steps forward, a smug-as-fuck grin on his face and his hand outstretched. “I’ve been looking forward to this pairing for a long time now, Hawthorne.”

I grip his hand tightly with my own as my mouth grins almost sadistically. “I look forward to knocking you flat onto your back, asshole.”

He pulls his hand from my grasp. “When you’re the one flat on your back, looking up at me, remember that’s precisely what she saw before I drove my big dick into her wet cunt. Without mercy.”

My nostrils flare, and my jaw clenches so tight it hurts as I restrain myself from reacting, a reaction being what he so blatantly desires.

Instead, I step forward, a thrill of delight coursing through my electrified body when he flinches minutely before I whisper, “And when I’m fucking you up, just remember that I’ll display that same level of mercy.”

Striding past him to the side of the line that Harold has indicated is designated for me, I leave him open-mouthed in the centre of the ring. He quickly gathers his bearings and takes his place opposite me.

Once we are both poised on the line, the crowd falls silent, and Harold recites the rules.

“Closed fist punches only. No striking your opponent when he’s down, or you’re automatically disqualified. Now, toe the line, men.”

Taylor mirrors my stance from his place opposite me as Harold steps out of the inner circle, standing by the outer ropes.

“Knuckle up!”