Page 69 of Fool Me Twice
They walked down the stairs and he saw Raph scramble over to the bell ringing it to get everyone’s attention. Cane had allowed the twins to come back to work simply because he didn’t really have many other options at this point, and they’d begged to help.
There wasn’t an announcer or anything. Cane wasn’t big on spectacle and showboating. He provided entertainment raw and bloody, that was it.
They reached the entrance to the ring and Cane grabbed Hart’s arm, bringing him close to whisper in his ear. “Watch yourself.”
“I can take care of myself,” Hart said.
Cane believed it. He knew it. But it didn’t mean shit when all Cane’s instincts wanted him close all the time. Hart was his. He protected what was his. A cage was about to separate them. A person who wanted him cursed and ruined might be in that crowd. Enemies who just wanted him dead and gone were also in that crowd.
“I’ll watch your back instead,” Hart said.
“He’s gonna need it,” Ash said, hopping in place inside the ring like a deranged little rabbit. Hart glared at him, pointing a finger right at his face.
“Behave,” he said.
Ash shrugged. “I’ll give it a thought,” he said, obnoxious as ever, before getting serious. “But I’m with Candy Cane on this one. You be careful.”
“I’ll be fine,” Hart said, stepping back when the metal construction descended from the air, closing Ash and Cane inside the cage and keeping everyone else out of it.
Cane gave Hart one last look before turning to Ash. There was a referee standing between them, looking scared shitless at the prospect of being trapped with the two of them. Cane didn’t blame him.
He turned to look at Ash, the bloodthirsty fucker, and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Rules?”
“Ew.” Ash made a disgusted face and Cane actually grinned.
It wasn’t a friendly smile. Not even one forced out of politeness. It was purely predatory. Because the cursebreaker had just given him free rein to go wild on him. And Cane would make good use of the opportunity to blow off some steam.
“Get lost,” he barked at the referee, and the man, to his credit, did nothing to fight it. He scampered out of the cage lightning fast.
The crowd knew what that meant, and they went rabid with bloodlust. No rules. No safety nets. No excuses. The winner would be whoever was left standing when they were done.
Cane circled the cage, following Ash’s maniacal laughter around the floor.
He knew what the cursebreaker could do. He wasn’t delusional. But he felt like he’d welcome some pain and distraction.
“I’m growing old here, handsome,” Ash taunted, and Cane felt the last shred of self-control snap.
He descended on the cursebreaker like a beast possessed. The first blow to his chin sent Ash’s head flying back, blood from his busted lip spraying the floor.
The crowd roared. It made it sound like things were back to normal. Like his warehouse was full and his business was thriving.
Like everything hadn’t almost completely fallen to shit.
He dodged a blow to the temple from Ash but earned himself a knee to the gut before he could block it, doubling over and spitting out blood. The familiar sharp pain hit him when he tried to stand upright, and he pushed against it.
He embraced it like a part of him that had been missing for a long time.
He pushed himself upright, shaking away another attempt at his head, barreling forward to deliver a series of short jabs right into Ash’s abdomen, savoring every grunt of pain.
He hoped Hart was getting what he needed. Hoped something would come out of it. But until then, Cane found himself enjoying his role. It felt good to be reminded of the core of himself.
He elbowed Ash in the nose.
Received a harsh kick across his lower back.
Returned with a swipe that sent Ash crashing to the floor like a felled tree.
Cane jumped on him, straddled him, and slammed both fists into his head.