The Fight, Part 1

The thunderous noise of laughter and conversation fills the arena and bangs on my eardrums. Energy pulsates through the crowd and vibrates through every physical object in the place. I can't deny the adrenaline in my blood and the excitement on my skin as it overcomes me in surges. I can't pretend it doesn't feel good. It does. It feels incredible. I shiver.

I skim my gaze over the fenced ring in the center of the room. Hoisted a few feet off the floor, its lower limbs shrouded in advertising and sponsor logos, it stands proud and strong, ready to withstand anyone who enters.

"Still can't believe that gross pig groped you," Selena grumbles as we shuffle between people, trying to get to our seats. I grunt my agreement, wanting to drop the subject forever, and clench my small, leather handbag to my side. A ruckus of five men storm past in a waft of expensive cologne and inked flesh. "Thank god for Seth."

I glance over my shoulder at her. Her hungry eyes are glued to the group as they