Page 71 of Unbreakable Thread

Fuck that.

I unbutton my dress shirt. “Take off your hoodie,” I instruct Xander. “I’m stepping in. I’m not letting him walk into a lion’s den.” He immediately takes it off and hands it to me.

“I’ll go in. The WBC will disqualify you.”

“I got this. I’ll use the hoodie to cover up, besides no cameras are allowed.” Xander takes my dress shirt while I slip on his hoodie.

“I’ll go get gloves.”

Xander turns, but I grab his shoulder. “We don’t have time.”

The audience erupts into chaos. Their feet hammer against the aluminum stands, sending vibrations through my bones like aftershocks. Their voices merge into a single hungry command: “Fight. Fight. Fight.”

The six-foot-two man gets into the ring. His wide shoulders square when he hypes the massive crowd with his hands, forcing them to cheer for him. Tattoos cover his body more than mine. From head to toe. Leo turns to a shade of white.

I square my shoulders and bounce on my feet, alternating my weight from one foot to the other. I slip my hood on and jump in the ring. “Get out,” I shout at him.

He shakes his head.

“I got this. Out.”

“But.”

Xander reaches for Leo, pulling him out.

All the cockiness he’s had is gone when he sees it’s me. His patterns are burned into my memory—same combinations, same footwork, every damn time. The first jab catches him across the bridge of his nose. His head snaps back, surprise flickering across his face before the professional mask slides back into place. He comes back harder—those meaty fists aren’t decorative.

Three minutes in, he’s already gassing out. The second one clips my ear, and the world tilts briefly sideways. I use it. Let him think he’s got me. He over-commits on the follow through, and I’m already gone, already turning, already bringing the uppercut up from the floor. I ignore the raw scrapes of my knuckles from not wearing gloves. I punch the side of his face right in the jaw as he falls to the floor. I wait for him to stand on his feet. Blood oozes out of a cut under his eye. I work the body first. Chest. Stomach. Back him to the ropes.

He’s covering up. Waiting for me to stop. I don’t. When his guard drops, I go in for an uppercut. He falls to the floor. The bell rings. He’s out cold. The crowd erupts in cheers.

The air around us lingers with sex, blood, and sweat as we walk down the long hallway. My face drips, and the skin over my knuckles throbs where it split. We come to a halt. Daniel is already at the door. Arms crossed over his chest. He looms in front of it. His eyes cut into slits. His nostrils flare.

I knew he would give me trouble, but I wasn’t about to let Leo be his punching bag.

“What the fuck was that?” Daniel barks.

“That was me.” I point at my chest. “Saving my brother because you fucking lied like I knew you would.”

The grin on his face is diabolical.

“Keep the money. We’re out.”

He tsks. “This is not how it works. Leo was supposed to fight, not you. He came to me begging to fight.”

I glare at Leo. He looks away from me. “I don’t see how this is a problem. You made money from it, and I don’t even want my share. The crowd didn’t mind,” I tell the Don of the Mafia.

Daniel leans his shoulder into the door. “I do mind. When you come to me, asking to fight in my ring. Then I expect to get what I’m paying you for.”

“He only agreed for today, right?”

Leo’s hard swallow beside me is all I need to know. He fucked us.

The corners of his mouth curl upward. “Oh? He kept you in the dark?” His gaze locks onto Leo, satisfaction written across his face. “Your friend, Leo, agreed with me. He’s mine until the end of the year.” He shrugs. “Or until I’m ready to let him go.”

I could wring his damn neck. What was he thinking? It’s not like he doesn’t know. Leo is not ready. Not for fights like these. There’s no way I can let him. Xander is already fighting. As much as I wish he hadn’t gotten involved. He jumped back in. He’s old enough to make his own decisions.

I look at Leo standing there with his eye swollen shut, holding his ribs like they might fall out, and I thought about the kid with the trembling hands who never made it home. My mouth was open before I’d decided anything. “Then I’ll take his fights.” That’s all there is to it. He’s my family. He became my responsibility the day I took him under my wing.