41. I am really, totally fucked.

TASHA

Cage.

The name keeps ringing in my head as we push through the doors of the underground gym, walking into a swarming, cheering crowd already going crazy. The air is acrid with sweat and smoke and heat, and for a couple seconds, I try to adjust my nostrils and lungs to a new temporal pattern of breathing.

I push my way through the noisy crowd chanting Cage! Cage!, staying close enough to Jennie and Marco as we head towards the front to get a better view. Sounds of heavy grunts and punches coming from the ring fill the smoky air, mixing with the buzzing chaos of the crowd, booming louder to my ears the closer we get to the front.

We eventually arrive. My mouth falls open, and I finally get a glimpse of why the crowd is so damn fucking loud and crazy.

The fight has already begun.

Nate sharply evades a deadly blow from his opponent, a massive muscular guy who looks like a grim tattoo drawboard with so many black tattoos coating almost the entire skin of his back and running down his