Uncaged Love: Volume 6 (Uncaged Love #6) Read Online Free PDF Page B

to us. This must be Big Daddy. “You Hudson?” he asks.
    “Yeah,” my brother says.
    “This your trainer?” The guy squints an eye at me.
    “Yessir. She’s from a gym in LA.”
    He stares at me a minute, and I fear he’s going to place me with Colt. “Awwright,” he says. “It’s twenty-five bucks to the loser, fifty to the winner. No ref. Give ’em a show.”
    “Yessir,” he says.
    “Who judges for the win?” I ask.
    Big Daddy stares at me from the squinty eye. “Don’t need a judge. It’s last man standing.”
    I let out a slow breath. What the hell has Hudson gotten himself into?
    The man opens the doors to the people waiting outside, and we head to the back of the room.
    I want to talk Hudson out of this, but I’m not sure how.
    “You sure Akoni isn’t going to find out?” I ask as I wrap his hands. “There just aren’t that many gyms and trainers around.”
    Hudson shrugs. “By the time he figures it out, I’ll have some experience like he wants.”
    My heart is pounding as I tear off tape. “Well, we talked about everything there was to talk about earlier. You know what you’re doing.”
    He grins at me, and I recognize that recklessness. “I do.”
    I tug on his gloves. “What was it that Muhammad Ali always used to say?”
    Hudson barks out a laugh. “I like to think about what The Cure always says.”
    “I can never say it without cracking up,” I warn.
    He starts the phrase. “Move like a lion—”
    I finish with “Bite like a bear.”
    “Mike Tyson took that advice way too literally,” Hudson says. We both break out into laughter.
    “Yo, chump, what’s so damn funny?” A lean boxer in black fight shorts smashes his gloves together.
    We stop laughing.
    “Nothing,” Hudson says, all serious now.
    “This your girl?” he says. “Looks like she could use a boob job.”
    Now I want to punch him. “I’m his sister,” I say.
    “Oh, man,” the boxer backs away. “Your sister.” He’s laughing like he can’t get over it. “Hot damn, wait until I tell the guys.”
    “Is that the one you’re fighting?” I ask Hudson.
    “Yeah,” he says, and I can see his confidence starting to waver.
    I lean in close. “Kick his ass.”
    The guy in gray sweats climbs through the ropes to stand in the center of the ring. “If you’re placing bets, see the man by the door. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
    Fifteen minutes. I draw in a deep breath. I think of all the ways this could go wrong. I have to focus on Hudson, his grim expression, the set of his jaw. He looks good, fit, and strong. He is bigger than his opponent, just like he said.
    “That guy is cocky,” I say to Hudson. “That’s going to be his biggest weakness. If you can take a couple minor shots, he’ll think he’s got you.” I wish I’d seen Hudson train a little more, knew his strengths. “Take whatever opportunities you see when he lets down any part of his guard, but keep some gas in your tank.”
    Hudson keeps nodding. I know this part of the pre-match ritual is important. General information, easy instructions, nothing critical. He’ll be half-listening, half-psyching himself up. I’ve been there. A long time ago now, but I know what he is feeling.
    The people crowd around the man taking bets and the room fills up as more people push through the door. The off-books fights are as popular here as anywhere. This is the most people of Hawaii I’ve seen at any one time. When I was here last year with Colt, we kept to ourselves, and only saw the trainers and doctors and my family.
    Most of the spectators are of Asian descent, matching the population of the island. They are animated, young, and dressed in styles that aren’t too far off those of LA.
    I glance over at the boy Hudson’s going to fight. He’s listening intently to an older man, probably getting a speech a lot like the one I just gave my brother. But then he glances over and sneers at me, his eyes dropping to my chest.
    Good. I hope he is