Full Contact (Redemption #3)(59)

What the hell is going on with him? This is what happens when I spend all my time obsessing over a mercurial fighter who easily walked away, and turn my back on the people who have always been there when I needed them the most.

“You have police skills. You have a gun. And I have no doubt you can defend yourself in a fight. Please don’t do this.” I reach up and grab his bicep. “You haven’t even trained properly. Renegade is near the top of the amateur league.”

“So was I.” He jerks out of my grasp. “And I will be again.”

But I can’t let this go. Nausea roils in my belly. “I don’t understand what’s going on with you. What do you need to prove? You aren’t acting like yourself. And Jess”—I look back over my shoulder at Jess standing in the spectator’s area with Rampage—“she’s worried about you.”

He swallows hard. “I have nothing to say to Jess. She’s with Blade Saw. I’m happy for them.”

“Why don’t we all go for a drink and talk?”

“Sia.” His voice rises to a loud bark and Jess looks over in alarm. “Go.”

“Let him fight.” Ray’s voice is a low murmur in my ear, his hand warm on my hip. “There’s nothing you can do to stop him.”

Still reeling from seeing Tag in the ring, I don’t question Ray’s sudden appearance at the fight. “You don’t understand. He’s injured.”

“Then he’ll know the extent of his injuries better than anyone.” He grabs my hand and tugs me away. “When a man decides to fight, he’s gonna fight. All you can do is be there for him at the end.”

Jerking out of his grasp, I give Tag one last pleading look, but when he shakes his head, I sigh and head back over to Jess with Ray on my heels.

“Where did you come from anyway?”

“Got the message about the fight. Knew you’d be here. Figured you wouldn’t be too happy.”

I edge away when we turn to watch the fight. I don’t want his hands on me. I don’t want to be tempted by his too-perfect body or the strength of his arms. I don’t want to think how he came here tonight for me even after he pushed me away.

The ref blows the whistle, and Tag opens with a low kick followed by a mid-level that throws him off balance. Renegade moves in fast with a hard left to Tag’s nose, and Tag topples backward. Renegade is on him before he even hits the mat, swarming him with punches. My stomach churns, and Ray leans over and murmurs in my ear.

“Renegade’s pulling his punches. Fuzz will be okay.”

“Doesn’t look like he’s pulling any punches to me.” I swallow as bile rises in my throat. “Tag’s lip is bleeding and Renegade’s not letting up—”

“If it were a real fight, he’d already be unconscious.”

“That doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better.” I scrub my face with my hands and take a deep breath. But although I can block out the sights, I can’t block out the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, Tag’s grunts and groans, and then a howl.

“Oh God.” I rip my hands away. Tag is writhing on the mat, clutching his shoulder, his face contorted in pain.

Ray frowns. “Renegade was trying to put him in submission, helping him save face, but Tag twisted out of it. Was it a shoulder injury that did him in?”

“Yeah. A bad one. He fell out of a second-story window and broke his shoulder in three places. It wasn’t set properly and never really healed.”

An underground medic waves to Tag from outside the ropes, but he shakes his head and pushes himself to his feet. His left arm dangles by his side and his face is contorted in pain.

“I’m going to be sick,” Jess whispers.

“I’m going to kill him.”

Renegade speaks urgently to Tag. Clearly he wants Tag to tap out. But Tag refuses. Instead, he attacks, using his feet and his good arm. Renegade goes on the defensive, backing away.

“Fuck.” Ray swears through gritted teeth and mutters to himself. “C’mon, Fuzz, give in. He’s trying not to hurt you.”

But he doesn’t know Tag the way I do. Tag isn’t thinking anymore. He’s on autopilot and his goal is to take Renegade down. The last time I saw him like this was the night he injured his shoulder. And all because of me.

Finally Renegade has had enough. He sweeps Tag’s front leg and Tag goes down. But he can’t brace for the fall on his left side. He tries to recover and staggers back, then loses his balance. His head hits the post and he slumps to the ground.

“Tag.” I am running, pushing away the crowd, crawling through the ropes. I get to him at the same time as the medic. She gives him a quick check and whips out her phone. One of the organizers blows his whistle, calling for an emergency evac. The crowd scatters. Once the ambulance arrives, the police will follow, and no one wants to be caught at an unsanctioned fight.

Jess joins me beside Tag and then Renegade crouches down beside us. “I’m sorry. I tried to stop him. I thought he’d just go straight down. Stubborn ass just wouldn’t give up.”

“How could you?” I shove him in the shoulder, and he falls back. “You knew about his injury. You knew he hasn’t really fought in years. I thought you were his friend.” My anger comes out in a frenzy of fists, and then Ray is behind me, holding my arms, his voice a soothing rumble in my ear.