Page 57 of Acid
“No fucking way…” Piston snaps and steps forward, but I grip his arm, causing him to glare at me. I just shake my head at him and then watch as Perrie jumps up and down in place, her opponent, Cannonball, glaring at her.
I had a long fucking chat with Viking. It turns out every fucker here wants to take her on because she beats them all, and their egos can’t face it.
“Fucking explain, Acid!” Steal demands, his voice full of tension as the bell rings, and Cannonball runs toward her.
She dodges his fist and purposely trips him up, making the crowd laugh and the man’s face turn red.
“Our girl here has been fighting since she was fourteen, earning extra money for her dad,” I admit.
“Did he fucking know?” Piston growls, and I nod, replying, “I think so.”
Both men curse as we stand there, tense as fuck, watching Perrie fight the six-foot idiot, the right side of his face completely obscured by tattoos.
I flinch when he hits her jaw, causing her to stumble. Then he boots her in the back, causing her to fall into the ropes. I take a step forward, ready to jump in the ring, and as if she can feel me watching, she looks up, and our eyes connect.
My breathing picks up, seeing her lip bleeding, and my nostrils flare.
She gives me a subtle head shake, then smirks, and I grin, knowing the exact move she’s about to make. She did it to me just before John died, and nearly broke my fucking nose.
She waits until the fucker wraps his arms around her from behind. I notice her tense up, and I fucking hate knowing the reason why, before she slams her head back, connecting with his nose. He stumbles back as blood pours down his face, and instead of calling off the fight because his nose is clearly broken, the ref lets them continue.
“Fucking hell, she’s like a machine,” Steal says with awe, and I nod because, yeah, she is.
Perrie corners cannonball, punching his face and body, left, right continuously, the crowd cheering wildly. She doesn’t stop moving, hitting, causing his body to jolt until he drops, knocked out, and she steps back, breathing hard.
The ref pulls her into the middle of the ring, and I tense at the bruises already showing on her body.
Piston rasps, “She can’t handle her emotions, can she?” already picking up what I figured out.
I shake my head. “No, she can’t. At first, this was a way to help her dad, but now, it’s a way to run from her trauma, her dad’s death, Cass leaving, me, the rape….”
The announcer shouts Perrie as the winner, and the crowd chants and cheers before she jumps from the ring. Viking hands her a thick envelope as she passes and walks into the mouth of the hallway.
Steal gets his phone out. I raise an eyebrow, but he just shakes his head as he puts the phone to his ear, snapping, “Cass…. Don’t fucking hang up. Perrie fucking needs you.” She says something to him before he snarls, “She’s fucking injured, Cassidy!”
Steal tenses as he removes his phone from his ear, looking at the device with disbelief and growls, “She fucking hung up!”
“Seriously, Piston, you gave him my number?” someone snaps from beside us seconds later, and we all look in shock as Cass, wearing jeans and a checkered shirt, glares at my brother.
“What the fuck?” Steal stutters, and I just blink.
Cassidy sighs, placing her hands on her hips. She looks at Steal and asks, “Remember the three nights a week I said you couldn’t see me and you allowed your little fuck buddy to get in your ear?” He flinches then nods numbly, and she holds her arms out and states, “Here’s your answer. I fix up the fighters for extra cash, including Perrie.”
I wince as Steal takes a step forward and demands, “The past four years you’ve been gone?”
She shrugs. “I was still here doing what they pay me to do, though I never realized Perrie still fought. Viking knew I couldn’t be seen by her or anyone to do with the club.” She looks at me. “How did you know she’d be here tonight? It’s rare she fights more than twice a week unless she needs to clear her head.”
I sigh. “She opened up a little last night, and so did I….”
Cass nods. “She needed an outlet.”
I nod back as Steal demands, “Get your fucking coat; you’re leaving with me now!”
She snorts. “Sorryex-lover, no can do; some of us have to pay bills, and being in my last year of residency doesn’t pay me as well.” She looks at me again. “Perrie’s wounds are superficial; I watched her fight like a hawk. She’ll be on her way back to the gym.”
I nod before she glares at Steal and turns on her heels, heading to the hallway where the fighters go. Steal growls and follows her, demanding that she listen, and I snort.
“Fucker is a goner for her,” Piston says, and I state, “He always was; he just let his insecurities get the best of him.”