Chapter 4

Cain

I watched her leave. That was the first problem. The second was that I didn’t look away when I should have.

Emery crossed the cage room with her shoulders pulled back like she hadn’t just stood in a room full of blood, bets, and men who would eat softness for entertainment.

Reaper stepped up beside me with a beer in hand, his gaze following mine toward the hallway. “That the new girl?”

I took a slow drink from the bottle someone had shoved at me before answering. “Yeah.”

He hummed low in his throat, scratching at his beard. “I’d fuck the hell outta that bitch.”

My hand tightened around the bottle.

Reaper noticed, and his eyes slid toward me, the lust written on his face fading as he caught something in my expression I hadn’t meant to show.

“Cain?” he questioned carefully.

I looked at him flatly, and he lifted both hands slightly. “Didn’t say nothing.”

“Didn’t think so.” I tossed the towel over my shoulder and turned back toward the cage.

His mouth twitched, but he was smart enough not to push. Most men around here were smart in short bursts. It was how they survived.

Across the room, the cage crew dragged another fighter fully out through the side door, his boots scraping concrete while the crowd barely noticed. They were already shouting over the next match, already hungry again.

That was what this room did. It took blood and made it routine.

Usually, I liked that. Tonight, all I could see was Emery standing beneath the hallway light, eyes too wide, mouth parted slightly, acting like she didn’t know she had walked into the worst kind of place for a woman like her. Except maybe she did know.

Maddox stepped out of the side office with his leather cut hanging open, his eyes sweeping across the room. Nothing missed him. Not the spilled cash near the betting tables. Not the drunk idiot still arguing about payouts.

His attention narrowed as he stopped beside me. “Problem?”

“Not yet.” I wiped blood from my knuckles with the towel.

“That sounds intriguing.” Maddox folded his arms across his chest.

“Girl came looking for work.” I jerked my chin toward the hallway.

“In here?” He glanced toward where Emery had disappeared.

“Front bar first. Found the cage,” I growled.

His mouth flattened. “And you hired her?”

I didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.

Maddox stared at me another second before asking, “Who is she?”

My jaw tightened. “Nicole’s friend,” I muttered, dragging the towel harder over my knuckles.

“Nicole? As in your daughter, Nicole?” Maddox pushed away from the wall slightly.

“How many Nicoles do I have?” I tossed the bloodied towel onto the counter.

His eyes sharpened immediately. “Careful.”

I almost laughed. Careful had already come and gone the second Emery looked at me like she knew this was wrong and stayed anyway.

“She needs money,” I stated, grabbing the beer bottle again.

“Plenty of places hire bartenders.” Maddox leaned one shoulder against the wall.

“Not tonight,” I told him.

“That your excuse?” His gaze stayed locked on mine.

I looked at him then. The kind of look that usually ended conversations.

Maddox didn’t move. That was why he was president.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice enough only I heard him over the crowd. “You put that girl behind the cage bar, she doesn’t just see fights. She sees everything. Bets. Blood. Men getting stupid. Men looking at her.”

My teeth locked instantly. There it was, the thing I’d already thought about. The thing I couldn’t stop thinking about.

Emery behind the cage-room bar with blue neon hitting her skin while drunk fighters and bikers watched her move between tables.

“I’ll handle it.” I set the bottle down harder than necessary.

Maddox studied me for a beat too long. “That’s what worries me.”

A roar exploded behind us as the next fighters entered the cage. One of them belonged to Cagers: young, fast. Too cocky for his own good.

The other wore another club’s cut, bruises yellowing along his ribs.

I shoved the towel at Reaper and started toward the cage.

Maddox caught my arm before I got two steps. Not hard. Just enough. “You fighting again tonight?” His grip tightened briefly.

“Yeah.” I glanced toward the cage.

“You already fought,” he warned.

I nodded. “I’m aware.”

His gaze held mine. “This about the girl?”

“No.” I pulled my arm free.

Lie. Not fully though, because some part of me needed the cage right then. Needed impact, needed pain. Needed something simple enough to put my hands on.

Maddox stepped back first. “Then make it quick.”

I stepped through the cage door as the crowd shifted, voices rising when they realized I was going back in.

Let them scream, let them bet, let them think this was about blood.

Across the room, near the hallway entrance, Emery had stopped.

She hadn’t left after all. Her gaze found me through smoke, bodies, and blue neon, and for one second everything inside me went still.

She looked curious, focused entirely on me.

The bell rang and the other fighter came in fast. I let him.

He swung wide, eager to make a name off mine, and I slipped it before driving my fist hard into his ribs. He grunted, stumbling sideways before catching himself.

The crowd roared louder, and he came again.

This time I hit harder, not because he was an idiot and didn’t see possible death staring him in the face, but because Emery still watched, and because Maddox was right. Every fucking man in this room would look at her tomorrow night, and I already knew I wasn’t going to handle it well.

The fighter clipped my jaw with a glancing hit, and pain flashed bright.

I smiled at him slowly. Bad decision on his part.

His confidence flickered instantly. I stepped in and drove two blows into his ribs before landing one brutal hook across his mouth hard enough blood sprayed against the cage.

He dropped to one knee, and the fucking exploded. The audience jumping to their feet and screaming at the cage.

Their words flew past me as I looked past him automatically, to where Emery stood frozen near the hallway. One hand was lifted near her throat, her eyes locked on me like she knew she should leave but couldn’t make herself do it.

Yeah, that made two of us.

The fighter shoved himself upright again, and I ended it before he fully stood.

One clean hit: hard and done.

He dropped flat onto the canvas as the bell clanged through the cage room and the crowd erupted around me.

I didn’t look at them, I looked at her again. Her lips were parted slightly, and even from across the room I caught the exact moment she realized I’d fought harder because she was still standing there watching me.

That should have warned me, I was already in some deep shit. It didn’t. It made me want to walk straight to her, grip the back of her neck, and tell her exactly why she needed to stay away from me. Instead, I stood in the cage with blood on my hands and her name burning through my head.

“Cain.” Maddox’s voice cut through from outside the cage.

I blinked once and looked over. His expression said enough. Watch yourself.

Too late, because Emery finally turned toward the hallway, but before she disappeared, she looked back at me one last time, and I knew right then that putting her behind the cage-room bar tomorrow night was the worst decision I’d made in years.