Chapter 39 Try Me
I didn’t expect the fight to look like that.
The ring was a real ring, but slightly different because of the iron cage around it and a crowd that closed in around like hungry wolves.
People shouted, cheered, and placed bets. Some were already halfway drunk. The music had been turned down, but the tension? It was louder than anything.
I stood beside Miles, who had his arms crossed and a serious look on his face now. Even he wasn’t joking anymore as his eyes followed every activity in the ring.
Across the ring stood Grant Miller.
I recognized him on sight. His body was covered in tattoos that looked more like paintings. He was smirking like he’d already won. Like this was just a warm-up.
Ryker stood still, rolling his shoulders, bouncing lightly on his feet.
He looked different now. Not the Ryker I knew as the typical ruthless CEO and Derek’s older brother. Not the man who called me his little lamb or fucked me against a counter. This Ryker looked like he belonged in this place. Like he was built for it.
Someone in the crowd shouted, “Let’s go, Grant!”
Another voice screamed, “Ryker’s gonna end you for sure!”
The announcer didn’t have a mic. He just raised his arms and yelled loud enough for everyone to hear.
“No rules. No rounds. No time. First man down stays down. You know the drill.”
Ryker and Grant stepped toward each other. They had no gloves. Just their bare knuckles.
The moment the fight started, I barely breathed.
Grant came at him fast with a wild deadly swings, trying to overpower him early, but Ryker dodged like he’d done this a hundred times.
Every move he made was clean and deliberate.
Ryker landed the first hit. A hard jab to Grant’s jaw that made the crowd roar, hope filling their faces.
Grant stumbled back, shook his head, and spat on the ground. Then he smiled widely like he liked that.
For a few minutes, it was fairly punches using fists. Grant got a hit to Ryker’s ribs. Ryker returned with an elbow to Grant’s shoulder and a kick on his stomach.
But then the unexpected happened.
Grant reached behind his waistband real fast, like he was adjusting something, but when his hand came back out, it came along with a knife.
My heart stopped.
Miles cursed under his breath. “No. He didn’t.”
He did.
Grant had a knife.
A small one.
And no one else in the crowd noticed. Or maybe they didn’t care because apparently, it was a lawless fight.
I screamed before I could stop myself, “Ryker, watch out!”
Grant lunged at him with full force.
Ryker stepped back, but not fast enough. The blade caught his side in a clean slice.
He flinched, stepping back while grabbing his ribs. Blood soaked through his shirt. Even the sight of it burnt my eyes.
“Oh God.” I whispered to myself.
The crowd gasped in shock, probably not expecting that turn of event. Others just leaned in, hungry for more.
“Cheap shot!” Miles yelled, stepping forward, but someone held him back.
Ryker stumbled, hand pressed to his side, but he didn’t fall.
Grant smiled. “Should’ve stayed in your rich boy lane and surrender to me.”
Ryker didn’t answer. From outside, I could sense him struggling to catch his breath. But his eyes never left Grant’s.
Then he moved.
Fast.
Anger flashed across his face like he was ready to kill, but it wasn’t wild. It was cold.
Grant didn’t hold back as he swung the knife his way, he barely ducked it, stepped in close, and slammed his fist into Grant’s gut. Then another on his chest and one to the jaw. The combo was so quick I barely saw it.
Grant’s knife slipped out of his hand and fell to the ground.
Ryker quickly kicked it aside.
Grant swung again,but his motive was sloppy now and Ryker caught him. A brutal right hook landed across his face. Blood flew from Grant’s mouth along with some few teeth. The crowd exploded.
Grant staggered back, tripped over his own foot, and hit the ground hard.
He didn’t get up.
The crowd went silent for a second, stunned.
Then the cheers erupted.
My hands found its way to my mouth, half-believing what I’d just witnessed.
Some people didn’t even care that a weapon was pulled. That’s the kind of place this was.
Miles ran to Ryker and so did I.
He was still on his feet.
His shirt was soaked red, his hand pressed tight against the wound. His knuckles were red and there was a split on his lips.
I reached him and touched his arm. “Ryker. You’re—”
“I’m fine,” he muttered, though his voice was husky.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Only a little,” he said, trying to smirk but he failed.
Miles wrapped an arm around him. “Let’s get you outta here, champ.”
As we walked him back to the car, the crowd kept cheering behind us. But I wasn’t listening anymore.
All I could think about was the blood on my hands. The way Ryker’s eyes stayed locked ahead, like he’d already known this would happen.
Like pain was just another part of the underground that he was accustomed to.
“Miles, don’t forget the donations.” Ryker muttered, wincing slightly.
“Don’t talk about that now.” Miles scolded.
Donations?
That was unexpected.
I saw a few people betting earlier. Since Ryker won, all of those money would naturally go to him. But it seemed he used them for donations.
That was…impressive.
We barely made it a few steps from the ring when someone stepped out from the crowd and blocked our path.
Obviously, he was one of Grant’s guys.
Ryker’s arm immediately went in front of me, shielding me like a wall. His body stiffened, jaw tight, even though he was still holding his side, blood soaking through his shirt.
“You got a lot of nerve laying Grant out like that,” he said, his voice was rough and edge with anger.
Ryker’s tone didn’t waver. “Tell him to fight fair next time.”
The guy smirked, but there was no humor in it. “He should’ve finished you when he had the chance.”
Miles stepped in, hand already twitching like he was ready to swing. “Create another problem, and I’ll make sure you pick your teeth off the floor. Try me.”
The tension was thick. The crowd had started to shift, sensing something brewing again. But this moment didn’t last long because of the sudden blaring sounds.
The sound of sirens.
It was faint at first before it grew louder.
And closer.
“Crap,” Miles cursed. “The police are here. Everyone. Go.”
The man glared at Ryker one last time, then disappeared into the crowd. Everyone ran like roaches as the siren drew near.
Ryker didn’t wait.
“Let’s go,” he said quickly, grabbing my wrist and pulling me along.
But something was wrong.
The alley spun. My legs felt like jelly and weightless.
“Vanessa, come on—” Ryker’s voice was sharp now, panicked, but it was already drifting.
I blinked, trying to stay upright and calm, but my knees buckled, her heartbeat ringing in my ears.
My vision blurred. My chest tightened. I couldn’t catch a full breath. That familiar pain started crawling up my back like fire.
Ryker turned just in time to catch me before I hit the ground.
“Vanessa!”
His voice was distant and muffled, mixing with the sirens.
I saw his face, his eyes wide, panic and shock filling him. Before everything faded out of sight.
Just black.