“Gogoplata?” Sounds like a dance from the fifties.

“It’s one of rarest submissions in Jiu Jitsu. I’ve only ever seen it done once, and I’ve been doing MMA for fifteen years.”

The crowd draws a collective breath, waiting for Misery’s submission. Instead, we get three short blasts of whistle and a wild-eyed Homicide running toward the ring screaming, “Evacuate. Evacuate.”

The warehouse erupts into chaos.

Lights go on. Doors are thrown open. People storm outside in a frenzy of shouts and stomping feet.

Homicide joins us, gasping for breath. “I just got a text from Flash that he reported us to the CSAC. He was pissed off about being kicked out. We gotta get everyone out and lock down before they get here.”

I grab the first aid kit and look up at the ring. Torment has released Misery and is standing at the ropes. He points me to the door and mouths “Go.”

Behind him, Misery has climbed to his feet. He stalks across the mat, his intent clear on his face.

“No!” I scream and point at Misery. “Torment, behind you!”

Torment spins around. Too late. Misery lets loose what must be his knockout punch. Torment’s head snaps to the side. He staggers back into the corner, whacks his skull on the post, and slides to the ground.

“Why did he do that?” I scream my outrage. “The fight was over.” I push chairs aside, trying to clear a path to the ring.

Jimmy grabs my hand and pulls me back. “Technically, the fight wasn’t over. Misery didn’t tap out or go limp.”

“But the club is being evacuated. Torment clearly thought the fight was done. He was just trying to make sure I was safe. Surely that’s against the rules, aside from being just plain unsportsmanlike.”

Jimmy shook his head. “No one will criticize Misery for wanting to finish the match. Torment knows better than to turn his back on an opponent before the fight is done.”

Torment moans and rolls to his back. His hand twitches, and then he is still. Warm tears slip from my eyes and drip onto my cheeks.

“We have to go,” Jimmy says, his voice urgent. “They’ll question anyone they find. We don’t want to give them the ammunition they need to shut us down.”

“But…Torment.”

“Don’t worry. His people will come for him.”

Shaking off Jimmy’s hand, I turn back to the ring. Misery is standing in his corner, massive arms folded. Torment is still lying dazed on the mat. Vulnerable. Hurt.

“We can’t leave him like that,” I say, aghast.

“I can’t risk getting caught. I haven’t told anyone but I’m applying for the amateurs. Being caught at an unsanctioned event might destroy any chance I have of getting in. Sandy and I will wait outside for you as long as we can.” Jimmy pivots and disappears into the dwindling crowd.

My heart pounds against my ribs and I climb into the ring beside Torment.

“Torment? Max?” I turn his face toward me. “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

His eyes open and he gives me a weak smile.

“Stay with me,” I urge him. “Keep your eyes open. Focus on me.” My hands are already running over his body, checking for breaks and injuries. He has a bump on his head and a cut on his temple. Possibly a concussion.

“You didn’t kiss me back.” His voice is so soft I barely hear him.

My eyes widen. “This isn’t the time. You’re hurt.”

“Kiss me better, Makayla,” he whispers.

Cupping his face in my hands, I lean over and brush my lips against his cheek. Electricity shoots through me like a bolt of white, hot lightning.

“A real kiss,” he grumbles as I pull away.

“That’s all you get,” I snap. “I’m not going to ignore your medical needs so I can indulge myself.”

He gives me a half smile. “I thought you were all about indulgence.”

The platform shakes. Misery pounds his way across the ring toward us.

“Enough. He’s talking, so the fight’s not done. Get out, bitch.”

My blood runs cold and I position myself between Torment and Misery. “He’s hurt. The regulators are coming. The fight is over.”

Misery’s face darkens. “I don’t take backtalk from bitches, especially not when their mouths should be doing something else. Looks like you need a lesson in respect.” He stalks toward me, a bald, sweaty Goliath with murder in his eyes.

My knees shake, my pulse races, and my mouth goes dry. Fragments of memories burst from my subconscious. Long buried. Another night. A man stalking toward me in the darkness. I hold up tiny hands, terrified I won’t be able to protect myself or the person on the floor. I scream.

Misery stops short. His eyes focus on something behind me and widen to the size of tea cups. Torment steps in front of me and throws a punch and then another. His fists fly, hitting Misery in the head and face, over and over and over again. Misery staggers backward into the ropes. He bounces forward and into Torment’s waiting knee before crumpling to the floor with a groan.

My heart thumps in my chest while my mind spins backward, desperately trying to fill in the missing pieces to a nightmare I haven’t had since I was a child. What happened when he reached me? How did we escape? The fight ring blurs, and I grab the ropes to steady myself.

“I’ve got you.”

Strong arms lift me and slide me under the ropes. My dizziness subsides. My vision clears. Torment jumps down to the floor and carries me easily in his arms. I frown at his concerned expression. “What happened?”