Free Bull: An MMA Stepbrother Romance by Selena Saint Page A

it man! Save it for tomorrow night!”
    Jake calmed down as Beast’s team worked him off stage. 
    “Yeah,” Jake said, “tomorrow night that motherfucker’s gonna pay.”

Chapter 11

    FIght
    “We rollin’!!!!” boomed the voice of the event coordinator. The guy kept everyone on time and in position and when he started yelling it always got Jake amped up. Jake loved the guy.
    He took a deep breath. It was time. The butterflies in his stomach came as much from the adrenaline dump that hit his body as it did from the fear. Fighters didn’t talk about the fear much, but every damn one of them felt it. It wasn’t so much fear of pain, or of getting hit. Hell, he got hit every day in sparring. It was fear of looking bad, when you got right down to it. Fear of letting down everyone that had put their blood, sweat, and tears into you. Your coaches, mentors, family, sparring partners.
    Most of all, it was fear of looking like a chump. Lisa wouldn’t be watching tonight. That would amp his fear up to somewhere around 11, but he would have fed off it. No way he would have gone down in front of Lisa.
    It was just a matter of minutes before the fear would leave him, though. Once he squared off against Beast in the cage it would all be behind him. There would be no more butterflies, no more fear, just raw, naked aggression.
    It had been a brutal eight weeks of fight camp, a hellacious weight cut, and all the sacrifices. He was finally going to get his hands on this motherfucker. He wished he could have gotten to do it in front of Lisa, but that was all his fault. He didn’t deserve her.
    His fight team lined up behind him and they began the walkout. His entrance song boomed over the arena speakers. Instant adrenaline hit. Jake remembered his days of bar fights, smokers in parking lots. The underground circuit. He was big time now. Now it was Vegas hotels and arenas for him.
    Jake started jogging up the tunnel from the bowels of the hotel toward the arena entrance. As he entered the arena he the sound and energy of the audience crushed him. Hostile territory. The deafening roar of the crowd was not the welcoming kind.
    He ran up to the official responsible for last minute fighter checks. A few fans stuck their hands out for a high-five, but most just shouted insults. A couple even threw half-empty cups of beer at him.
    It didn’t matter. None of these guys could save Beast from what Jake was about to do to him.
    He stopped at the official right near the entrance gate to the cage. He checked his cup. He frisked him. He checked his mouthpiece and inspected his gloves. Finally, he waved him into the cage where Beast waited for him.
    Jake couldn’t help himself. He scanned the audience looking for Lisa. He had given all four of his floor seats to his Dad. He looked for him and his new stepmom but couldn’t find them.
    Fuck! Why was he thinking of Lisa? He had a fucking fight to get on with.
    He stared across the cage at the man he was about to fight. Jake had trained for this moment for eight weeks and now he was ready to lay a beating on this man. Nothing personal. He actually liked what he had seen of Beast as a man, but that guy stood between him and the belt, and that meant he had to go down.  
    “Fighting! Out of the red corner. Weighing in at...” the announcer’s voice became an indistinct blur. Normally his trademarked energy and crazy theatrics got Jake pumped up but tonight Jake’s mind kept wandering back to Lisa. This was dangerous. He had to focus. Lose your concentration in tennis and you lose a point.  Lose your concentration in MMA and you might wake up in a hospital.
    The next thing Jake knew he was in the center of the cage across from Beast and the ref was running down the rules. The microphone projected his voice over the entire arena. They had already gone over this in the locker room, this bit was for the audience.
    “If you want to touch gloves do it now,” the ref said.
    Jake put out a glove,