Trigger: An Alpha Bad Boy MMA Romance by Simone Scarlet MMA Page B

one to be in circumstances like these.
    No octagon. No announcer. Shit, there wasn’t even canvas on the floor.
    This was Roadhouse shit. Except this shit was real .
    “Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” Red saw me step into the dirt circle, and addressed the crowd. “On this side, we have the son of one of our own: Walter Oates’ kid. You’ve seen him on TV, and more than a few of you have lost your shirt ‘cos of him.” He held up his arms, and announced: “Travis ‘Trigger’ Oates.”
    The crowd rumbled with approval. I’m not going to lie, it was kind of underwhelming.
    But they perked up when Red turned to his bouncer, Roy, and announced him, too:
    “And y’all know this fat son-of-a-bitch,” he grinned, and the crowd roared with laughter. “Roy Jenkins.”
    If Roy objected to being called ‘fat’, he didn’t seem to show it. He’d stripped off his white shirt, and was standing opposite me with the floodlights gleaming off his pale, flabby body.
    Sure, he was fat – he probably had a hundred pounds on me. But He had a frame like a John Deere tractor, and fists the size of jackhammers.
    “$500 dollars to the winner,” Red announced, and then he challenged the crowd: “And I hope you’re layin’ some money down out there, too. Maybe ol’ Trigger will give you a chance to earn back some of the money he lost ya.”
    There was a chuckle from the crowd, and I tightened my hands into fists. Making jokes about my last two losses stung.
    Red gave the crowd some time to hustle. Two of his black-suited buddies were collecting fistfuls of twenties and tens as they ran bets, and a couple of waitresses from inside were running out bottles of beer to thirsty customers.
    But all too soon, the transactions were wrapped up – and Red turned to address the crowd again.
    “And let the games… begin !”
    And then he scurried out of the dirt circle – and I stood facing Roy in the harsh glare of those burning floodlights.
    Roy lumbered forward, swinging his big fists. With his pale body gleaming in the floodlights, he looked rather like a massive wild hog; and he was clearly as ornery as one.
    “Yer goin’ down, cowboy,” Roy growled, as he closed the gap between us and swung his giant fists towards my face.
    It was almost too easy. This big lug was used to dealing with drunk bikers and rowdy truckers. He’d clearly never fought anybody with actual combat experience before.
    By the time his fists reached where my head had been, I’d ducked easily out of the way – and Roy’d left himself wide open for me to plant two hard punches on the side of his big, ugly face.
    The burly bouncer snarled, and staggered past me, shaking his head. I’d clearly stunned him – but the big bastard wasn’t going down easy.
    The crowd had cheered when I’d hit him, and there was a collective “oooooh” as Roy wheeled around and snarled at me.
    A trickle of blood was running down his chin, but he looked more pissed off than injured.
    I raised my fists, and braced myself on my back foot, ready for whatever he tried.

Chapter Twenty Four
     
    Roxy
     
    My heart was pounding as I watched Travis and Roy face off against each other in the dirt circle.
    It didn’t matter how many years I’d studied and practiced martial arts – things always felt different when people were really fighting.
    And while Red had declared the competition was over at ‘tap, nap or snap’, I knew there was the very real danger that something could go wrong; and Travis and I wouldn’t get much help amongst this reprobate crowd of truckers and bikers.
    So I bit my fist, and watched my ex-boyfriend as he prepared himself for Roy’s next move.
    Once again, the lumbering bouncer came in with an unsophisticated barrage of punches – swinging his big fists like they were sledgehammers.
    Travis ducked easily out of the way, and then popped up under the reach of Roy’s burly arms to deliver a one-two combo of jabs that crushed Roy’s nose like it was a