“You all set?” Shorty asked, tapping the bonnet. “Tyre pressures? Wheel nuts? Nothing loose inside the car? The scrutineers are really looking for trouble today.”

I pulled my helmet down over my head, fastened the strap and gave Shorty the thumbs up.

Half an hour later, I’d been given the all clear and was ushered onto the track for a single warm-up lap. I quickly tried to familiarise myself with the track. Accelerating hard down the main straight was actually the easiest part. Whilst making sure I snatched third, then fourth gear the instant my shift light indicated maximum revs, I also had time for a quick glance at my engine temperature and oil pressure gauges. Normal. Perfect. The world outside was deafening, but the craziness inside my head was silent. The adrenaline rush forcing drivers to push harder and faster, otherwise known as the ‘red mist,’ had well and truly taken control, and I was out to win with no thought for anything, or anyone, else.

Chapter Sixteen

Juliette

Winton was such an awesome high; it carried me through the next couple of weeks. I had crushed my previous best lap time, well and truly showing Scott Henderson and anyone else who doubted my abilities, that my drag race victory was no fluke.

When the next fight night arrived, I waited for the text message with even greater anticipation than usual. As a cab pulled up in front of me, I locked eyes across the street with a familiar-looking guy with white blonde hair and pale eyes. I’d seen him at the gym the night before while I was warming up for Zac and had felt uneasy at the time. It had felt like he was watching my every move, but I’d forgotten about him as soon as I started pummelling the bag. The man across the street broke eye contact, pretending to be interested in a flyer stuck to the inside of the shop window he was standing in front of. Weird.

The whole process of getting to the fight was the same, but the adrenaline I thrived on hit me with a greater force. As much as I tried to deny it to myself, I felt anxious to see Leo again, at the same time knowing I should stay away. Nothing had actually changed in my life, and seeing him would be a reminder of what was out of my reach. Would he be there? It had been almost a month since I last saw him. He’d probably forgotten about me.

“Do you think Leo will show tonight?” Shorty asked as we jostled our way into the non-descript warehouse somewhere on the outskirts of the city.

“Word on the street says he’ll be here.” Jim shrugged his shoulders with indifference.

My heart soared and plummeted in quick succession.

I headed directly to the cage fence with Jim while Shorty, once again, went in search of his other mates.

“I’ll be fine if you want to go with Shorty, Jim,” I reassured my friend.

“I’m good, Jules. This is a networking opportunity for him. I’m just here to watch the fights.”

Happy with his response, I started scanning for the fighters. I zeroed in on the huddles and strained to catch any glimpse of the one person who had claimed a piece of me. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block out the rising emotion of knowing however much I wanted to be what my mother needed, I had needs too. I needed to see Leo.

The announcer’s voice startled me and I snapped my eyes open. Leo was in the cage right in front of me. I wanted to cry out with happiness, with fear, with a confused mixture of warring emotions and hungry desire. The bell rung, and the fighters tapped fists before taking their places and bouncing on the spot. Leo’s opponent, Reaper, looked terrifying and mean. His head was fully shaved except for a plaited rat’s tail hanging down the back of his neck. Tattoos covered the majority of his upper body and, judging by what I could make out, he was one angry individual. Fire-breathing dragons, swastikas, skulls, tombstones and a variety of other ink, no doubt designed for intimidation. There appeared to be some kind of tally system across his lower abdominals, and I couldn’t help wondering if they were ink representations of his victims, lying dead in dumpsters and riverbeds. Although Leo was undefeated, I was sick to my stomach with worry.

The first few minutes were fairly uneventful, both fighters managing to avoid any serious blows. They were completely focused, and I was mesmerised by Leo’s massive, rock-hard body, dancing with a ballerina’s grace. Reaper had equally skilful footwork and, much to my horror, they appeared evenly matched.

“Hit him in the vagina!” yelled a swaying man three across from me. “Pussies!”

The crowd roared with laughter, clearly enjoying the entertainment of the excruciating build-up. The tension between the fighters rose, and I could sense an imminent explosion. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. Leo’s eyes were like slits, and my whole body hummed with fear and excitement. He hadn’t looked into the crowd once and, whilst I longed for his gaze, I didn’t want to risk any distraction.

I’m not exactly sure what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t what transpired. Leo landed a hook to Reaper’s body faster than my eyes could witness. Judging from the seemingly slow motion of the flailing body flung impossibly far, there was some extraordinary brute strength behind his fist. Reaper was left sprawled face-down on the khaki canvas. Murmurs around the crowd questioned whether he was faking, but I was convinced he wasn’t. When he started to spit blood, I knew I was right. Leo was the winner by knockout.

Leo exited the cage. The first fight was over, and I managed to exhale.

Within minutes, two new fighters entered the ring. Rusty had a shock of orange hair sticking out at odd angles. I couldn’t decide whether he meant it to be styled that way or it was just naturally bizarre hair. His skin was pale, almost translucent, and dotted with a fine smattering of freckles. I bet he was a cute kid before he turned into a first-grade thug. Thumping his chest, he emanated guttural roars as he raised the volume of the room with his crowd-pleasing antics. At one point, he flung himself up the cage fence and straddled the top, arms flung into the air to the crowd’s obvious delight. His opponent, Barb’s husband Paul, had a much better shot this time, and I could see his sly smile only just visible to my keen eye. He obviously knew the showier the fighter, the less concerned he needed to be. This guy was almost an assumed pushover.

As expected, Paul had him down for the count in less than four minutes. Rusty would’ve no doubt been embarrassed had he been conscious when he was carted from the ring, a pool of blood in his wake.

A few boring fights later and Leo was back in the cage with Paul for the semi-final. The desire to leap into the cage and throw myself into Leo’s arms was, at times, overwhelming. He was everything. Pure unadulterated lust seeped from my pores and slid unashamedly towards him. I couldn’t see straight and, at that moment, I knew I would be breaking up with Richard. Even if Leo wanted nothing to do with me, I couldn’t go on the way I had been. I wanted more.

“Bloody hell,” Jim cursed. “I have to take a piss. “You’ll be okay for five minutes?”

“Of course.” I smiled at my overprotective friend. “No worries at all.” He started the process of pushing through the crowd and when I had lost sight of him, I turned back to the cage.

“Hello, beautiful.” A deep voice whispered into my ear from behind, and cold chills ran the length of my spine.

I spun towards the voice and was met with a creepy set of pale blue eyes, shadowed by a grey hoodie, partially covering the now familiar man’s head.

“Who are you?” I demanded, irritated by his interruption and obvious stalking.

“Don’t be afraid.”

I was vaguely aware of the bell ringing and the fight beginning. A quick sideways glance and I could see Leo the predator stalking his next meal.