Sucker Punch

Sucker punch

Bones

Why the f**k was she wearing white to a cage fight?

The dress, though simple and innocent, was splattered with blood... my blood.

The crowd roared to life. They jeered and catcalled, but she paid them no mind. She simply raised one eyebrow at me, silently asking my nearly knocked-out ass if I was going to get up and f**k up the asshole who’d sucker punched me.

Blonde hair so white it almost shone with an angelic glow. Two braids hung down to her breasts, stark contrast to her crimson lips. An innocence about her except that her arms were covered in tattoos, and her eyes were heavily lined with black makeup. A paradox of good and bad... f*****g stunning.

With a wicked grin, she took a step toward me with the confidence of a predator. Her crystal blue eyes were cold, unyielding, evaluating the man before her with dispassionate precision.

Somehow, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, I managed to focus on her face. With a roar from the crowd, I struggled to my feet, my muscles screaming in protest. The world spun around me, but I forced myself to stay upright, to keep my eyes locked on hers.

“Bones! Bones!” they chanted my name, but everything except the pretty blonde blurred around me.

The crowd erupted into a frenzy, hands clapping and arms flailing, a sea of bodies moving in unison. Colors blurred as flashing lights from cell phones and cameras illuminated the ecstatic faces in the dark warehouse.

I barreled into the asshole who had punched me, knocking him to the ground, splattering my blood, and his, on the bystanders below. My fists connected with his face, over and over again, each punch fueled by a burning rage that I only possessed right before I finished a fight. I was winning now. I knew it.

Fuck yeah, I knew it.

The crowd’s cheers echoed in my ears, a symphony of victory and adrenaline.

I fought with renewed vigor. And all the while, my pretty, bloody angel stood at a distance from the mayhem, watching me with a small smile. She was my motivation, my driving force. With each punch I threw, I felt the crowd’s energy surge. Their cheers fueled me, but it was her smile that kept me going. The way her eyes sparkled with pride and admiration, it was intoxicating.

With a final, crushing blow, my opponent crumpled beneath me, unconscious. The crowd erupted into a frenzy, but I only had eyes for her. Panting and drenched in sweat, I had never wanted to meet a stranger in my life as much as I wanted to meet her.

The crowd continued to cheer, but their voices faded into the background as I exited the cage, ignoring all the cash being exchanged, only to see her in the distance, too many bodies between us to reach her instantly.

She winked at me, a playful glint in her eyes, before disappearing into the crowd.

“You’re a f*****g mess,” my friend and manager, Lotto, said as he approached with a white towel. “I thought you were out with that right hook of his.”

I took the towel and held it to the gash right above my eye that was gushing most of the blood. The other wounds I had were surface. “Did you see that blonde who stood on the south side of the cage? Long braids, all-white dress. Tats on her arms. f*****g beautiful.”

Lotto chuckled, snatched the towel out of my hand, and dabbed at the cut himself. “You’re crazy, you know that? You just won a brutal cage fight and you’re worrying about f*****g some girl.”

“I’d share,” I said with a smirk.

“Damn straight you will,” he agreed with his charming and mischievous grin as he seemed satisfied the wound no longer needed his constant attention. He then handed me the towel to wipe the rest of the blood out of my eyes myself.

“I’m going to go collect our money,” Lotto said before turning and disappearing into the madness of bodies that crowded around.

Determined to find my angel, I pushed my way through the throng. The crowd was a whirlwind of sweat, blood, and booze I shoved aside using my busted knuckles.

As I rounded the corner, I glimpsed her talking to a fighter I knew as Freakshow.

I saw red.

I didn’t want her talking to anyone but me and strode purposefully toward them, my body still humming with adrenaline from the fight.

Luckily for Freakshow, their conversation ended, and he left her before I could reach them. Or maybe lucky for me. He wasn’t a man to mess with, and I wasn’t in any condition to fight again. Blood blurred my vision, and the sting told me I most likely needed stitches. But I had one goal in mind.

Reaching my bloody angel.

Just as I cleared the distance between us, she turned to leave, but I grabbed her arm. She looked at me, surprise flickering in her crystal blue eyes.

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Hello?”

She studied me for a moment, her gaze assessing. Then she reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, revealing the faint outline of a heart tattoo on the back of her neck.

“I got blood on your dress.” I felt as if the words were being ripped from my throat.

I couldn’t look away from her, the way the light seemed to halo around her, setting her apart from everyone else in the room.

“I see that.” Her voice was as cool and unyielding as her gaze. She glanced down at the dress then back up at me, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I think it suits me.”

“I’m Bones.” I released my grip on her arm.

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against my ear. “I know.”

She reached out to run her finger on my cut, collecting the blood. She brought her finger, now stained with my blood, to her dress and smeared more blood on the white fabric.

“You’re dripping. Since my dress is ruined, I might as well help you out,” she practically purred as she seductively wiped her finger clean.

My heart skipped a beat at the sight.

At her words.

At her most delicious and wicked act.

She was a dangerous woman, and yet not, and I was drawn to her like a moth to a f*****g flame.

What the hell was wrong with me? We were in a frozen moment. The world paused, and for a second, it was just us.

The world rushed back in with loud pops of gunfire in the distance, followed by screams.

The crowd panicked, surging toward the exit like a torrent of water breaking through a dam. Amid the chaos, she never broke eye contact with me, her expression one of calm and steadiness. The gun went off again, and I threw her to the ground, my body on top of hers to shield her from the bullets that could rain upon us.

“Stay down!” My voice was gruff from the fight and the adrenaline that still coursed through my veins. I could feel her heartbeat against my chest, rapid but steady.

I risked a glance up to assess the situation. People were trampling each other in their haste to escape.