Lowlander Silverback (Gray Back Bears #5)(8)

The cheering and jeering was deafening, but she could make out the chanting from a group of spectators on the other side. “Kong, Kong, Kong.”

With a gasp, she lurched forward and muscled her way through the mob. The closer to the ring she got, the harder it was to move anywhere.

“Hey!” someone behind her yelled. “Bartender!”

She jerked around to a familiar face. He was one of those frat boy types. Blond hair, blue eyes, cocky smile.

“Snakebite?” she asked, recalling the potent lager and cider drinks he’d ordered while he was watching the Beck Brothers.

“Yes! You remember.”

She waved politely and turned to try to get closer to the ring. Only a couple of rows of too-tall men were blocking her from what sounded like a good fight if the cheering was anything to go by, but no good. She couldn’t get any closer.

“Let me,” Snakebite said too close to her ear as he gripped her waist.

She squeaked as he shoved her through a tight hole between two behemoths. He yelled something at the pair of cheering tatted-up bikers as she wiggled past, but she couldn’t make out what he said. As her focus pinpointed on Kong, the noise around her died away.

Shirt off, he was bleeding freely from a gash under his eye down his bare chest. A tattoo ran from his shoulder to his elbow, but she couldn’t tell what it was from here. All black ink and tribal looking, it was just a blur of sexpot as he ducked a hit and swung hard enough to splinter his opponent’s ribs. Kong’s eyes glowed a brilliant green, and if she’d had any question before now about him being a shifter, the unsettling color that had replaced his soft brown eyes would’ve put those doubts to rest. His torso was thickly laden with muscle, his abs flexing with every graceful punch he threw and every breath he took. His waist tapered severely from the width of his shoulders, and she was stunned by how powerful he looked like this, slick with sweat, bloody, smiling, and egging on the titan he was boxing.

Harrison! She nearly swallowed her tongue as she realized Kong was fighting the alpha of the Boarlanders. Holy shit!

“Damn, Bartender, you’re looking hot tonight,” Snakebite yelled over the sound of the crowd.

Fantastic. She plucked his hand off her waist and tried to sidle away from him, but there was nowhere to go. It was too tight here, and she was getting pressed against the wooden railing as the men behind her surged forward and raised their fists in the air, chanting Kong’s name.

He ducked and connected, volleyed and took a hit to the jaw that would’ve knocked her out cold. It hurt just watching. And now she was worried he would get hurt, or worse. Didn’t people die from boxing? No, settle down. Jake said he does this regularly. He would be fine, and oh! Kong swung around and nearly ran into the wooden railing that was driving into her hip bones as the crowd pushed harder against her. A sickening noise sounded as Harrison went to town on Kong’s stomach, blasting his fists against his abs.

“Come on,” she murmured under her breath. Kong could do this. Sure, Harrison was a dominant alpha grizzly shifter, but Kong was…well…Kong. She’d never seen anyone stronger.

Kong jerked his gaze to her, and for an instant, their eyes locked. She could see herself reflected in the churning green there, just before he grunted in pain and took a hard hit to his face.

She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. They were so close, so violent, so powerful, and she was pinned here, unable to escape if she wanted to. And Snakebite was slithering his arm around her waist again.

Kong shoved Harrison and then thundered toward him, powerful legs flexing against his ripped, blood-splattered jeans.

She couldn’t breathe. “Get off me,” she rasped out, shoving Snakebite’s hand off her ass.

“Don’t be like that,” he said in her ear, right before he drew her lobe between his teeth and sucked.

Layla yanked away, but the drunken idiot had bit down and pulled too hard on her stud earring. “Shit!” she gasped, holding her ear. When she pulled her hand away, a smear of crimson glistened on her index finger.

“A little pleasure, a little pain?” Snakebite slurred, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her hip hard against his erection.

“Are you f*cking kidding me? Get off!”

“I’m trying to!”

With a screech, she slapped his face with her claws out.

“Bitch!”

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe.

When Snakebite grabbed her hair, she closed her eyes, waiting for the slap. Other than a stern yank to her tresses, the pain never came, and when she opened her eyes, Kong was throwing Snakebite into the horde of onlookers on the other side of the arena. Harrison was knocked out cold on the red saturated plywood floor with a few of his crew around him, and eek! Now Kong was headed her way with the furious look of a berserker in his eyes.

Retreat time.

She turned and ran forehead first into a solid wall of smelly biker.

“Kong!” Rhett roared from across the arena.

“Give me a f*cking minute!” Kong yelled from way too close. Shit, shit, shit.

A meaty hand wrapped around her upper arm—all the way around it—and then Kong shoved her forward through a hole that magically appeared in front of her. Huh. This was much easier with a beefy, scary-ass, devil-eyed boxer giving death glares to anyone who stood in her way.

“Kong!” Rhett yelled again, from farther away this time, but when she turned to see how close Rhett was, Kong was blocking him from her view with his half naked body.