Fighting For Hope (Worth the Fight #1) - Olivia T. Turner Page 0,3
nervous as I look out the window, trying to get a glimpse of Scott. I don’t care if he’s got the money. I just want to see him return in one piece.
I keep picturing him, lying on the ground unconscious, his body tossed into the corner of the yard while everyone watches the next fight.
My body starts moving on its own. I grab the keys, get out of the car, and sprint over to the house.
My heart is racing as I run up the dry crunchy grass to the entrance in the back. A couple on the front stoop is making out and the guy has his hand all the way up the girl’s shirt. She practically hisses at me when she catches me looking. I drop my eyes to the ground as my cheeks burn.
Just go get Scott. Just go get Scott.
I’ve never been to a party like this. Heck, the last party I was at had a Disney princess theme with party hats and served hot dogs for lunch.
My stomach churns when I walk up to the biggest man I’ve ever seen. He towers over me as he stands in front of the entrance to the yard. The wooden fence has seen better days and is leaning to the side, propped up in one spot by an old refrigerator.
“Ten dollars,” he grunts at me in a deep throaty voice. I can’t take my eyes off him. He’s the scariest man I’ve ever seen.
“I… I don’t have any money,” I squeak out in a voice that’s pathetic even for me.
“Then get the fuck out of here. Paying customers only.”
I try to look around his massive frame, but he’s blocking all of the view.
“My brother is in there. Scott Hess. He’s supposed to be fighting and I just want to make sure he’s okay.”
He sucks his teeth as he watches me. “Lewis!” he calls out without taking his hard eyes off me.
Another giant black man with a do-rag on his head and a long black beard comes strutting over. He’s got a wide frame and big arms that are covered in tattoos, but instead of hard carved muscle like the bouncer, he’s soft and round all over. He doesn’t look as mean either as he looks me up and down.
“That white suburban kid fight yet?”
“Scott,” I quickly add. “Scott Hess?”
Lewis grins at me. “He your boyfriend?” He must be Papa Pain. Scott told me about him. He’s the one who puts on these fights.
“Brother.” My whole body is trembling. For me or for Scott, I don’t know. I’m just worried all around.
He grins at me. “He’s up next. Sisters get a free pass. Come watch the fight. You still got to pay for drinks though.”
I squeak out a thank you and rush into the backyard. There are people all over the place. Drinking, smoking, and cheering on the fights. The fighters are in an empty in-ground swimming pool, slamming their heavy fists into each other as everyone watches from above.
The fight should be over, but it’s still going on. A Hispanic guy is lying on the ground, looking half-dead as his opponent sits on his chest, pounding his face over and over. Two guys have to rush down and drag him off.
“Watch it, bitch!” a girl snarls at me when I graze her arm. She’s looking for a fight, but she’s not going to get it from me. I quickly move through the crowd away from her.
Papa Pain drops down into the pool as a couple of guys drag the beaten guy away. He leaves a thick streak of blood behind him. I swallow hard when I notice all of the other similar streaks of blood in the swimming pool. Some are faded from last week’s fights. Some are wet and fresh from tonight. I shudder to think that one of those streams might have been from Scott.
“We got two new fighters now,” Lewis shouts to the amped-up crowd. “Who wants to see some suburban white kids fuck each other up?”
The crowd goes nuts as the first fighter drops into the pool.
My whole body stills and I can’t breathe.
He takes my breath away. Literally.
He’s gorgeous.
I forget all about where I am as he peels off his tight shirt and tosses it on the ground. My body starts trembling for a different reason.
He’s tall, lean, and rock hard all over. Tattoos decorate his skin, like he needs any kind of decoration…
His messy brown hair is a little too long, but somehow