Orion Colony Complete Series Boxed Set J.N. Chaney (books for new readers .txt) 📖

Whether she actually needed protecting or not was a different question. At that moment in time, every fiber in my body told me money, the belt, and the title all came second to the woman I loved and the woman who carried our child.

“It could be dangerous,” I told her. “I don’t know what Mr. Dell will do. Jonny thinks things could get violent.”

“Then we run together, we go to the Civil Authority, we do whatever needs to be done, but we don’t stand down from bullies. Not us,” Natalie said. “Never us.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“What?” She raised her right eyebrow. I loved how she did that when I was in trouble.

“I basically said the same thing to Jonny,” I said, taking her into my arms. “I’m going to win tonight. I’m going to win for us, for our future, and for our child. We’ll figure out what comes next together.”

I pressed my lips against hers, losing all thought to the ecstasy the act brought. I released her faster than I would have liked. Her eyes were still closed when I took a step away.

“Keep kissing me like that, Mr. Slade, and we’re going to have another baby before you know it,” Natalie teased, opening her eyes.

“Ten minutes,” Jonny said, reentering the bathroom. “You able to talk some sense into him, Nat?”

“You chose the wrong woman for the job, Jonny,” Natalie said, looking at him with determined eyes. “I know you’re only looking out for us, and I love you for that, but tonight’s Dean’s night.”

“You want me to beg, is that it?” Jonny asked. “Don’t do this, Dean. Go down. Take a dive and live to fight another day.”

The crowd in the Coliseum erupted above us as the entrance music for my opponent blared out loud and clear.

“We got to get going,” I said, placing another kiss on Natalie’s soft lips before I prepared my mind for the violence to come. “Let’s do this.”

Jonny opened his mouth again, but I was already past him. The other trainers in the room who had no idea what Mr. Dell said were ready to go. They clapped me on the back, shouting words of encouragement. We walked from the locker room to the coliseum above.

The reigning champion was Jason “The Judge” Anspoc. He had a good reputation amongst fighters as a hard worker and a stand-up guy. Right now, he was walking out to some old school rock and roll.

I bounced up and down on my toes, blocking out every other idea in my mind besides the acts of savagery and brutality. Jason could have been a saint, but in the ring, we were enemies. That was all there was to it.

My trainers walked with me in a tight circle. The Coliseum security encompassed all of us in another layer of protection should the fans get unruly. Or even if they didn’t get unruly but excited to the point they wanted to reach out and touch me.

It was strange, the type of electricity a fight like this held. I could hear the fans roaring with anticipation as I ascended the steps to the floor level of the arena. The rock music died away, and my own came on.

I was also a fan of the old classics. AC/DC’s song TNT came on, blaring over the loudspeakers. The lights in the arena went out. I stood at the mouth of the Coliseum, about to enter the main floor. It was so loud now. Between the music and the screaming fans, I could barely hear myself think.

Flames erupted from the center of the pit. That was the cue to start our walk to the ring. My heart was pounding like a war drum as I made my way through the crowd, accompanied by my trainers and security staff. The lights in the Coliseum went on, revealing a packed stadium of yelling fans. I couldn’t pick out what they were saying outside of a few shouts like “Steel Hands! Steel Hands!”

We maneuvered through the crowd to the pit that wasn’t much more than a sand floor with a square cage on four ends. Jason was already in the ring. An announcer was holding a voice amplifier to his throat preparing to introduce us.

A referee dressed in yellow and blue stood ready to begin.

I wasn’t wearing anything besides my shorts. They were a simple design of black and red. I never understood why gladiators wore robes or clothes to the ring, only to disrobe right before they entered the pit. I came ready for a fight. I was always ready to fight. There was only one thing in my head at the moment: go.

I entered the pit with last-minute instructions from my coaches. I ignored Jonny’s stare, but I still heard his last words when my feet traveled from the cement floor to the sandy fighting floor.

“Don’t do it,” Jonny warned again. “Dean, please don’t do it.”

I ignored him, already staring my opponent down.

“In the far corner,” the announcer started in his golden voice, “your champion with a record of sixteen knockouts, ten submissions, and one loss, the master of disaster, the killer incarnate, Jason ‘Theeeee Juuuuudge’ Anspooooc!”

Screams ripped through the air. Cheers came in waves. All of it took a second seat to the focus I felt. I was generally a pretty happy guy, but in the pit, I was something else. The driving force that lived inside me was called upon to see me through to the end. I imagined it as a beast within. I chose when to let the beast out of his cage. That hour was here.

“The challenger in the near corner with an impressive record of twenty-seven recorded knockouts and zero losses is the Dean of Mean, the one who carries death in his hands, Dean ‘Steeeeeeel Hands’ Sllllllllllade!”

The crowd erupted again. It didn’t take much to get them going.

Again, I blocked it out of