A whistle blows and we turn our attention to the makeshift ring in the middle of the shop. The fights are rarely held at the same location and this venue is rougher than most. Four metal poles with a thick rope strung between them mark the ring. Sawdust has been scattered over the concrete floor. The air smells of wood chips and diesel with a hint of sweat, and the only light comes from the glare of spotlights set up around the perimeter of the ring.

The first few fights are as bloody and gory as an underground fight lover could want. The concrete floor is responsible for one knockout and two broken arms. A medic tends to the injured in a corner. My skin prickles as if someone is watching me. I scan the crowd, but I don’t see anyone looking in my direction, and I don’t see Ray.

Finally, the promoter announces the big event and Misery steps into the ring. He must be at least six feet two inches tall and weighs over two hundred and fifty pounds. Rampage tells us he was once one of California’s top-ranked amateur heavyweight fighters, but he threw it all away for a fistful of blow and a cup of revenge.

Anticipation ratchets through me as the crowd parts and Ray ducks under the rope. Although Misery clearly outweighs him, Ray dominates the ring through the force of his presence alone.

“He just gets better looking every time I see him,” Jess whispers.

She’s right. His muscles seem bigger and more defined, pecs protruding above his washboard stomach, his jaw firm, blue eyes focused and intent. His fight shorts, blue with white wolves on the sides, cling to his narrow hips, and for a moment I wonder if he got them because of the tattoo I might never finish, now a dark outline across his pec.

Hidden as we are in the corner, I don’t know if he’ll be able to see me, but I can pretend, and so I send him a mental kiss for luck.

At the sound of the whistle, they touch bare knuckles—no gloves in underground fighting—and then circle each other in the center of the ring. Already my heart is in my throat, and I feel the familiar surge of adrenaline that keeps me coming back time and time again.

“This is going to be a great fight.” Doctor Death throws a casual arm around my shoulder, and I stiffen and pull away with an apologetic smile.

“Sometimes I like to wave my hands and jump around. Wouldn’t want to hit you by accident.” I cringe inwardly at my feeble excuse, but what if Ray looks over and sees us together? Although I’m mentally prepared for it to be over, hope still flickers in my soul.

Misery cocks his left hand and then, without warning, the Predator attacks, unleashing his power with a left uppercut that sends Misery staggering back against the ropes.

Rampage draws in a sharp breath, and my pulse kicks up a notch.

“That’s not his usual MO.” I look back over my shoulder at a rapt Rampage. “He usually stalks them first, then toys with them, lets them get in a few punches before he moves in for the kill.”

Misery shakes his head, trying to recover, but the Predator doesn’t give him a chance, exploding on him with shot after shot. Misery goes down and grabs for the Predator’s legs, but he has left himself vulnerable. The Predator takes full advantage, unloading a flurry of big shots to his head. As Misery pushes himself to his feet, the Predator unleashes a powerful kick, striking the side of Misery’s head and sending him back to his knees. Another few punches and Misery is down for the count.

Violent. Powerful. Explosive. I’ve never seen the Predator blitz an opponent before. Nor have I ever been as aroused by a fight as I am now. All I can think about is having all that power…on me, around me, beneath me, and…oh God, inside me.

“Sia? You okay?” Rampage turns me to face him and peers into my eyes. “You look kinda dazed. Too much for you? Never seen the Predator let go like that.”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“We should get outta here.” Blade Saw tugs Jess’s hand. “The crowd was pretty loud for that last fight. Might have attracted the wrong kind of attention.”

“Sure.” I look back at the now-empty ring. Already the ropes are coming down and someone is sweeping bloody sawdust into a bag. Ray is nowhere in sight.

Doctor Death is paged by the hospital and pulls me to the side before I can follow Jess out the door. “You always disappear from these events so quickly we never get a chance to talk.” He trails his finger over my shoulder, and I grit my teeth to repress a shudder. Not that he is in any way unattractive, but there is only one man I want touching me right now.

“Tag worries about me coming out to secluded areas at night, so I try to leave before he discovers where I am and comes looking for me.”

“I can understand that.” His voice drops to a soft growl. “A woman like you brings out a man’s protective side. So delicate…with those big, liquid eyes…you just ooze vulnerability. Are you seeing someone?”

My skin prickles, and I scramble to think of a way to shut this down before it gets too awkward. No, I’m not seeing someone but there is someone I want to see.

“Sort of…it’s…uh…complicated.”

Doctor Death smiles. “So that’s a no. Excellent. I’ll come by your studio this week when I’m not on call and we’ll have dinner and talk about that complicated situation.”

“Thanks, but I…don’t think I’m free this week. I’m doing a lot of overtime.” My stomach clenches and I will him to get the message I’m so politely trying to convey. But, of course, he doesn’t understand.