Free Ringside by Elodie Chase

him.
    Nitro was ready,
and I knew if didn’t get over there and start the round that I’d forfeit the
match anyway, no matter how unsteady I was on my feet.
    “Just stay with
it,” Jessie said, patting me on the back.
    “Get the fuck out
of my way and let me, then,” I told him.
    For the first time
in a long time, Jessie finally did as he was told, backing away and signaling
to the crowd that I was back in it.
    There must have
been some doubt in the minds of the spectators, because when I stepped back
into range and Nitro launched a jab that made good contact with my chin, they
roared their approval.
    That’s life in the Colosseum , I told myself. The gladiators don’t have to be happy. They
just have to make it through the day.
    I did my best to
give as good as I was getting, but there was a sick little stitch in my side
that was starting to make me favor that side.
    I turned a bit in
my stance, trying to protect what could well have been a cracked rib, and
caught a clean, sure shot across the cut over my eye I’d earned in the first
round.
    Damn, this was
going downhill fast.
    Any fighter will
tell you that they don’t know how to quit. They can take the punishment, they
can take the pain.
    And it’s true.
    But what they won’t admit, even though it’s just as
true, is that when they’re losing badly, they know it.
    Their body tells
them, and it cuts right through the bullshit their mind’s been feeding them.
Training gets forgotten and you start to fight on heart and on instinct.
    Sometimes it
works, and sometimes it doesn’t.
    I was starting to
think that the end was near…
    Nitro smashed me
with a right hook and followed it up with a rocket of a left cross that left me
feeling like the ocean had suddenly found its way into the parking garage and
swallowed me up.
    My ears rang. My
eye was close to swelling shut, and punches that came from that side of my face
I couldn’t see enough to block.
    It was now or
never. I gave all I had, throwing with all the strength I had left. Nitro was
starting to get his second wind, and I could see that even when I landed hits,
they weren’t shaking him.
    Hopefully, Jessie
had at least found Sloane and gotten her out of here.
    The last thing I
wanted her to see was me getting beat down as bad as I thought I was about to
be.

Sloane

 
 
 
    Halfway through
the third round, I didn’t think I could watch any more of this.
    How on earth Angel
was still on his feet I didn’t know, but even a novice like me could tell that
he was on his last legs.
    I saw his manager
out of the corner of my eye talking to a couple of guys far too well-dressed
for this sort of thing and hurried over to him. I’d heard Angel call him
Jessie, so at least I knew his name.
    “Jessie,” I said,
grabbing his arm and turning on the charm. “I’m so sorry to interrupt,
gentleman. Do you mind if I borrow this guy for a second?”
    Both of the
fashionable dudes nodded their permission, and I guessed from the amount of
gold they were wearing on their fingers and around their necks that they were
rich and powerful enough to be running things here.
    Once they’d said
okay, I dragged Jessie out of their earshot. They were polite enough to step
away completely and leave me with Angel’s manager.
    “What they hell
are you doing talking to these guys?” I practically shouted at him, trying to
be heard over the clamor of the crowd. “Your fighter’s getting smashed in
there, and you’re rubbing shoulders with… What?”
    Jessie gave me a
sly little grin that sent goosebumps up my spine. “Sloane, right?”
    I nodded, furious.
What difference did it make what my name was?
    “Listen, I know
how it must look, but you’ve got to trust me. Have a little faith, you know?
Your man will heal up just fine.”
    The people
watching the crowd got even louder, and I looked over to see the big Russian
unleash a flurry of blows that rocked Angel, almost knocking him over.
    “You’ve got to end
this,”