This is insane. What’s going on here?
People push against each other. There’s the scent of sweat and stale beer clinging to everything as if it’s as much a part of the establishment as the old beams across the ceiling. I watch with a suspension of self, as if I’m floating. This doesn’t make sense. Why did Keegan bring me here?
“Finally!” someone cries out in our direction. I turn around to find an old man beaming at Keegan, the lights bouncing off his polished bald head. “You were getting me worried.” He shoots me a glance. “Who’s that? Never saw you giving attention to women.”
I open my mouth to introduce myself, but Keegan steps in front of me. “None of your business,” Keegan replies. “But I’ll make you swallow your teeth if anyone touches her.”
My eyes go huge. Since when does Keegan threaten people like this? I gaze at the man, waiting to see what he’s going to do. How he’s going to react. Maybe he’ll get mad and kick us out... But no, he opens a smile and cackles like a madman.
“Here’s the day I lived to see Keegan, the Mad Irish, get over-protective of a woman.” And he motions to a spot behind him. “Get ready. You’re next. I promise I’ll keep her unharmed.”
“Untouched,” roars Keegan before shooting me a glance. There’s doubt in his eyes, even fear. He says nothing as he whirls around and strides to the back, like the old man told him.
The old man half-turns in my direction. He gives me a once-over he might think is discreet. “Crazy thing, eh?” he asks. “What love does to men. I’ve never seen him so riled up, and I’ve met him several times in the past years.”
“We’re not—”
“Oh, there it goes!” He claps as the sound of someone collapsing hits me. I look up at the stage to see a man has gone down, and the other celebrates. People cheer. “He comes next.”
The whole thing is such a mess I don’t get his meaning at first. Some people scream and celebrate, others boo. In one glance, I can tell it’s well meant. Like a soccer game, being watched in a bar. The energy is undeniable, and it makes my body hum.
The crowd booms. I glance at the stage to see Keegan climbing onto it. My jaw drops. He’s shirtless, and he’s absolutely huge. If I thought he was big before, I had no idea. His body was always half-hidden by a hoodie or an oversized shirt. Wow, since when is Keegan this buffed up? His muscles are as big as my thighs, his shoulders and chest so broad he dwarfs the guy climbing onto the stage across from him.
I have to congratulate the other dude. He’s brave enough not to quiver when Keegan focuses on him. Keegan finishes tying cloth around his fists as I watch, the two greet each other, then someone rings a bell.
And it’s absolute mayhem.
Keegan moves fast for someone his size. He brings his fists up, protecting his face. The other dude, much smaller, takes the first swing, aiming for Keegan’s ribs. Keegan blocks. The guy keeps going, pressing Keegan, trying to make him step back. My heart races in my chest, my eyes going wide as I try to capture every moment.
I don’t know if it’s the people going crazy, and the cheers, and the energy pumping around me. Maybe it’s seeing an extra layer to Keegan I’ve never seen before. Whatever it is, my blood buzzes in my ears, making me breathless.
Keegan lands the first punch. I cry out. This is thrilling. I actually enjoy this.
The other man stumbles once then shakes himself back to the fight. He glares at Keegan, bares his teeth, then pounces like a wild animal. Keegan moves away from his first attack but takes the second. I boo with the rest of the crowd, but Keegan doesn’t even sway. Bet it felt like hitting a tree trunk.
Everything makes sense. How he’s never home in the evenings, how he comes back hurt and bruised. He might think fighting in illegal places makes him less of a man, but I don’t agree. Each of us fight with the weapons we’re given.
Keegan brings his hands up to protect his face and circles the man. They face off for a minute, jabbing at each other, testing. Tension grows. The air is so thick I can barely breathe as I watch them, as if teetering on the edge of a cliff. Keegan’s gaze travels across the stage and locks with mine.
He studies me, and he must see the thrill on my face because a bloody smile slashes across his features. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this handsome.
He turns to his competitor and lands a head-on punch. The guy tries to bring his arms up in a block, but Keegan breaks through it like it means nothing. His fist cracks against the man’s jaw, and I watch the shorter dude sway like a rotten tree to the wind. He collapses and doesn’t make to stand up.
Someone screams a counting, but the crowd doesn’t care. They’re already celebrating. The man next to me claps and screams, too. Something tells me he put a lot of money on Keegan.
Keegan makes his way to me, then jumps from the stage. Fists bloodied, lip swelling, his forehead dotted with perspiration. A drop of sweat runs down his neck to his defined chest. My mouth waters. I suddenly want to lick him.
He stands there, chest heaving, eyes on me. “You see?” he asks as people scream his name, slap his shoulder. He ignores them all. He has eyes for me only.
I nod. “I did.”
“And?”
I shoot a glance over his shoulder at the people crowding around us, wanting a moment with him. Several women vie for his attention, jutting their tits out, grinning at his back. He doesn’t seem to notice. He doesn’t look away from me.
Keegan’s fingers curl around mine and he tugs me to the back, where he picks up his shirt, wallet, and phone, then we make our way into the crowd and out of it, all the way next to the bar counter. One look from Keegan and a guy darts out, leaving a stool free so I can hop onto it.
I take the seat and Keegan leans in, hands to each side of my body, caging me against the bar counter. The bartender never gets closer. We’re both in public and in private. Everyone can see us, but they all pretend they don’t out of respect for Keegan.