Fighting Fate (Fighting #7)(73)

“Dammit!” I toss my phone to my bedside table and bite my quivering lip.

If this is what I wanted for him, why does it hurt so f*cking bad?

I want him to be happy. I just wanted him to be happier with me.





Twenty-five





Killian





Another snap sounds.

I glare at Fleur. “Would you stop with the pictures already?”

She cocks a hip and glares right back. “I am documenting your first UFL fight. You should be thanking me.”

I can’t help but grin. Fleur has become my closest friend in London. Sure she has her nipping-puppy-at-my-ankle moments, but it only seems to add to her charm. We’ve spent nearly every weekend together? sightseeing, grabbing a meal or two, and catching a film here and there. She’s been a great distraction from the pressure of my first fight.

She’s been a great distraction from a lot of things.

“Back off, Fleur.” Ollie shoves his little sister aside. “Annoying, une petit merde!”

She punches him in the gut, and although I can tell the hit hurt, he smiles.

I hit “play” on my iPod and close my eyes as Eminem’s “Mosh” blasts through my earphones. I move to an unoccupied part of the room and try to forget I’m at Wembley Arena in London, England, prepping for my first fight with the UFL. I pretend this is no different from any other day, that my shorts aren’t covered in sponsor logos, that my entire team who’s been there to support me from the second I got off the plane isn’t huddled together, strategizing.

In this moment, it’s just me and the music.

My muscles tingle with energy, loose from warming up. I throw punches to the air. Left—right—left. Combination. Left—right knee. Opposite. Elbow—knee. With my eyes closed, I imagine Hugo Webb’s game. Dodging, ducking, spinning. I see the entire fight behind my lids and move through it the way I want it to play out in the octagon.

I open my eyes and find Caleb standing in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. I drop my headphones to around my neck. “Is it time?”

A slow grin pulls his lips. “Depends. You ready?”

I bounce on my toes, keeping my muscles warm. “I’m ready.”

He drops his arms and steps into my space. “You prepared to represent the US, kid?”

I nod, his words igniting my passion even more.

“You ready to get out there and drop Hugo Webb?” He’s yelling now, getting me amped up.

“Fuck yeah.”

“Fuck yeah!” He nods. “Then it’s time, brother.”

I huddle together with my team, Laise at my right, Caleb at my left, Liam, Henry, Jay, Ollie, and Fleur to complete the circle.

“We’ve done all we can to get our boy ready for his first fight,” Caleb says, and the team mumbles in agreement. “Now we let him loose to cause damage.” The team agrees again in strings of curses. “Father God, I pray you’d protect our fighter tonight and give him a warrior spirit to destroy the enemy. Amen!”

Everyone chants, “Amen,” and we break.

“For you.” Caleb holds out his phone to me, as if whoever’s on the line has been listening for a while. I grab it from him, knowing immediately who it might be.

“Yeah?”

“Killian.” Cameron’s growled voice is laced with pride. “Big night, son.”

“Yes, sir.” My heart races faster; somehow hearing Cam’s voice reminds me that not only will my fight be seen by my crew here in London, but by my UFL family back home.

Including Axelle, if she’s watching. It’s the only time I give myself permission to think about her, but not in the way I’m accustomed to. There’s no pathetic, heartsick longing, only pride that if she is watching she’ll get to see what her influence created. Beyond everything else, I want her to feel the satisfaction that she made a difference in my life.

“We’re all here cheering you on.” There are voices in the background, both male and female, but I can’t focus on that now. I have a fight to win.

“Appreciate the opportunity, Cam. I won’t let you down.”

“I have no doubt about that. Now get out there and kick some ass.”

“Will do.” I hand the phone off to Caleb, and the door swings open to reveal a stocky guy with a headset mic and a clipboard.

“You’re up!”

My team surrounds me from behind. We follow Caleb out the door and down a long corridor where a crowd of thousands can be heard from beyond it. We wait for our cue to enter, and the excited energy bouncing between us is palpable.

A hand reaches up to remove my earphones from my neck and my iPod. I pull my eyes away from the stadium to see Fleur diligently removing my music. At my quick nod of thanks, she doesn’t smile back, her fight mask clearly in place just like all the other members of our team.

The lights go dark.

My pulse pounds behind my ribs.

The ticking sound of AC/DC’s “Thunderstruck” rings through the arena and the crowd explodes.

Caleb turns to me and scowls. “It’s go time.”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

I lead my crew into the arena filled with screaming fans for my first UFL fight, hoping like hell I don’t f*ck it all up.