Glancing up at the board as I passed, I realized they had a women’s tournament as well. Women fought here? Holy shit. They had to be some tough chicks to want to do this. I’d been in more than my fair share of scraps but having one in that cage? Hell to the no.

I leaned against the bar and waited my turn, using the time to survey the crowd and the staff. The bar itself was fully stocked with everything from the finest spirits to the crappiest lolly drinks. UDL’s and Vodka Cruisers, that kind of thing—‘chick’ drinks. Beer and cider was on tap, and they were pumping them out hard. The liquor itself would make a pretty chunk of change at the end of the night, but it definitely paled in comparison to what the bookmakers brought in. The money currently being flung around there was in wads.

“What can I get ya?”

I turned as I heard the woman bartender try to get my attention. She was a slim, alternative looking girl with black hair and black fingernails. “Scotch,” I yelled over the noise.

The woman smiled at me. “You wouldn't be Charlotte by any chance?”

I blinked hard.

She smiled again. “Don’t look so scared,” she said, her voice friendly. “Rebel’s looking for you. Asked me to keep an eye out.”

Thinking back to the little interlude with the fighter, I said. “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

“You know,” the bartender went on, “I’ve been around this shithole for a long time, and one thing I know is that fighters don’t usually stick. You brush ‘em off and they find something else to entertain themselves with.”

“And what?” I scoffed. “Rebel went and found himself a new plaything?”

She shook her head, laughing like I’d just told her the best joke she’d ever heard. Pulling down a bottle of scotch, she picked up a glass and began filling it. She stopped at three fingers and tossed a couple of cubes of ice in like it was an afterthought. Placing it in front of me, she said. “On the house. You’re gunna need it.”

I narrowed my eyes, not knowing if I should be offended or calling her my best friend.

“I’m Lori,” she said.

“I’d tell you who I am but you already seem to know,” I said with a sigh. “But please, call me Charlie. Charlotte is so…” I shrugged.

“Girly?”

My hard cop exterior melted some, and I laughed. “Something like that.”

“Well, get that in ya because my money’s on Rebel sniffing you out in the next ten minutes. He’s been asking questions.”

“Questions?” I squeaked.

“You’re the mystery woman who’s got the king of the cage all twisted around her little finger. He’s sent his lackeys to work. Odds are, he already knows you’re here.”

Oh shit, I was trying to keep a low profile, not become the talk of The Underground. If this got back to the wrong people, I was in big trouble. Suspended without pay or worse, fired.

Lori leaned over the bar. “Word of advice, Charlie. That guy’s smart. He ain’t some dead shit fighter that’s been knocked in the head one too many times. Don’t give him an inch. Make him work for it.”

Grabbing the drink in front of me, I pressed it against my lips and took a swig. The liquor burned a trail right down my throat and into my stomach, doing nothing but fuel the flames that were already burning. Damn it. I was here to further my career, not hop into bed with a fighter…a hot, buff fighter…

I shook my head, and Lori laughed.

“Good luck with that,” she said. “See you round, huh?”

“Maybe,” I replied before finishing off the rest of the scotch. “We’ll see what happens in the next ten minutes.”

She grinned like she knew a secret I still hadn’t been let in on and moved away to serve another customer.

Stepping away from the bar, I felt the buzz of the alcohol as it began to ping through my bloodstream, making me slightly bolder. The goal was to immerse myself in the lifestyle and get close to the players, so I could piece the puzzle together. Find the cracks so I could exploit them. Classic undercover cop techniques if I did say so myself…now with the added bonus of being officially unsanctioned.

Knowing that it was only a matter of time before Rebel found me himself, I did everything I could to stop myself from looking. He was a massive anomaly, meaning that he wasn’t a part of the equation at all. What would I do when he was finally standing in front of me for the second time? I wasn’t entirely sure, but my traitorous lady bits seemed excited by the prospect.

Stopping in front of the bookies, a wicked thought crossed my mind. If I wanted to be a part of this place and make it look convincing… I approached the nearest, who was this balding older man wearing a bum bag around his waist. A man purse for all his money. He held a notepad and pen in his hand, and his eyes lit up when he saw me near.

“Want to place a bet, young lady?” he asked, flashing me a smile. I could see the dollar signs flashing in his eyes, but he wasn’t going to make an easy mark out of me. People usually thought they could get one over me because I was somewhat pretty and had blonde hair, but when they found out what I did, they usually turned tail and ran. Not this time.

“One hundred down on Rebel,” I said, handing over two fifties.

“Only a hundred?” a deep voice rumbled in my ear.

My entire body flared to life as I became aware of Rebel's presence behind me. Turning, I smacked into his chest and his hands shot up and grasped my waist. Staring right into his eyes, I swallowed hard. He was touching me through my clothes and I could feel the heat of his skin. Hot, hard, skilled… Rebel was a very physical creature, and from the satisfied smile on his face, he knew it too.

“I only brought a hundred,” I said, my words running together.

He smiled wider, his eyes lighting up. “Then a hundred it is.”

We stood there in a sea of people, staring at each other like nothing else existed. I was totally dazzled by the man, but I wasn’t sure what his game was. I hadn’t thought of myself as hot property before, not where the opposite sex was involved. I’d had my fair share of boyfriends, but they usually cut out pretty quick. Something to do with them being dickheads and me being tougher than they were. In my experience, men didn’t like being in relationships with women in positions of authority.

Finally, Rebel said, “I wasn’t sure you were real.”

“Why’d you think that?” I asked, tilting my head to the side. His rich, chocolate eyes sparkled with mischief. He was cocky, alright. I’d have to keep an eye on this one.

“You left me hanging.”

“I’m sure you found something to handle that.” I scowled, surprised at the knot of jealousy that was twisting in my stomach.

“Yeah,” he said, edging closer. “My right hand.”

I should’ve slapped him for his brazen comment, or I should’ve told him to go jump, but I found my inner woman was actually pleased he’d jacked off while thinking about me—a woman he’d only spoken to once. Oh, and dry humped against a wall.

He smiled, knowing that he had me interested. Damn it.

“You wanna place that bet, lady?”

I blinked hard as I was unceremoniously torn from Rebel’s thrall back into the din of The Underground. Shoving the fifties I still clutched in a trembling hand at the bookie, I nodded. “It’s on.”

The man scrawled on a bit of paper and handed me a receipt. “If he wins, come back and see me with that.”

Rebel had inched closer while my attention was pulled away, his hands tightening around my waist. “You’re gunna double that, sugar.”

I raised my eyebrows at the fighter. Sugar? “At two to one, I’d hope so.”

“You gunna give me a kiss for luck?”

I rolled my eyes and knocked his hands away. “Somehow, I don’t think you need it.”

“I’d still like it,” he shot back.

I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re just gunna have to earn it.”

A sly smile tugged at his lips and I stared at them, my mind beginning to wander again.