Paxton's Promise (Gloves Off #3)(31)

“What if it doesn’t?” I asked. “What happens to me if I don’t win the fight?” Scar never went into detail on what would happen if I lost. He only told me what I was going to be doing. There was a reason he wouldn’t tell me beforehand. I was just hoping Red would tell me.

“I suggest you do whatever it takes to win, but I’m going to let Scar be the one to give you details on what happens if you lose.”

Leaning my head against the seat, I took slow deep breaths and cleared my mind. I needed to concentrate on the task at hand. It was hard to do at the current moment. Red kept quiet the rest of the way which suited me just fine, and when the truck started to slow I knew we were there.

“Keep the blindfold on until I take it off,” he commanded. He got out of the truck and a few seconds later, my door opened and he grabbed my arm, helping me out. His hold was a little too tight, most likely because he thought I would run away. There was traffic noise around, but it was muted by the walls surrounding us. Feeling the stuffiness of the air and the light draft on my skin, I’d guess we were inside a vacant building, probably an industrial warehouse. However, there was a scent in the air that I could definitely place; we were still by the coast.

Voices spoke around me, but I didn’t concentrate on them. I hated being blindfolded and I hated it when Paxton made me wear one last time. It made me feel vulnerable and weak, leaving everyone else the advantage. Another few steps and Red guided me into a smaller room, shutting the door behind us and releasing the blindfold. I had to blink a few times to get used to the light, but when my vision cleared, Scar was sitting behind a desk with a smirk on his face.

“Welcome, Miss Reynolds,” he greeted. Red pointed to the plush leather seat and I reluctantly sat, glaring at them both. “Do you have any questions for me?”

“What ignorant jackass am I fighting, and can I cut off his dick?” I’d tried my best not to think about my opponent because Scar happily informed me yesterday that I wouldn’t be fighting women, but men. Disgusting, vile men who want to manhandle women.

Scar bellowed so loud it hurt my ears. “You’re one feisty little fighter. I like it. But no, you can’t cut off their dicks, unless you can rip them off with your bare hands. There are going to be no weapons allowed in the ring. Remember, I need you to be scared. Let them push you around a bit. Make them think they have the upper hand. At the first sign of blood, it’s over. They know this.”

He slid a picture my way and tapped it with his finger. “This is who you’ll be fighting tonight. He’s thirty-eight years old and an obnoxious bastard. He owns a car dealership and thinks he’s God’s gift to women.”

I looked at the picture and snorted in disgust. He was overweight with a beer gut the size of a watermelon. The guy could crush me if he got me down on the mat. “He looks disgusting,” I spat, sliding the picture back. “Let me guess, he thinks he’s God’s gift to women, but can’t get any and wants to take it out on some helpless female.”

“Basically,” Scar agreed. “He’s slow as f*ck, so your speed will help you out. All I ask is to make your struggle believable. One hit to that f*cker’s nose and you’ll win. The people just want to see a helpless woman fight. They don’t need to know who you really are.”

“You’re sick, you know that? How much are you getting off of this?”

His smile faded. “That’s none of your business, little girl.”

About that time, the door burst open and none other than Camden Jameson strolled in. His blond hair was a little longer than usual, and in messy spikes. From his side profile I could see the jagged scar going from his forehead down to his cheek. “Okay, so what exactly are you planning tonight? This douchebag out there says he’s getting in the ring with a f*cking woman. What retarded bitch would want to fight that jackass?” When his gaze caught mine, his eyes went wide. “You have got to be f*cking kidding me.”

“Striker, so nice of you to barge in,” Scar muttered. “I brought in Gabriella to fight said jackass. She owes me.”

“And you couldn’t find another hard headed idiot to do the job? You do realize who her contacts are, don’t you? If anyone gets wind of her being here, they’ll come after you and everyone else here.”

Scar sat back in his chair and clasped his hands under his chin. “I’m well aware of that, but she knows what’s at stake. If she talks, then Reaper pays the price.”

Camden scoffed and turned to me. “Since when do you care about Paxton?”

“Since they started f*cking,” Scar finished.

Rolling my eyes, I clenched my teeth to keep from saying something unintelligent. They could say whatever they wanted.

“Great,” Camden snarled. “This is going to be one hell of a clusterf*ck.”

“Yeah, I’d say so, considering Rage wants her. He’s none too pleased about this new development with Reaper.”

“What does he have to do with this?” Camden narrowed his eyes.

This time, I spoke up. “I’d like to know the same thing. You never told me what happens to me if I lose a fight.”

“Why, you go to Rage,” Scar informed the room. “It was his idea to bring you in, so I let him make the rules.”

“Hell no,” Camden shouted, stepping forward. “You can’t let her go to that psycho. I wouldn’t send a whore his way, much less a woman of worth.”