By the time I got to the gym, I could walk with just a bit of a limp, which I thought was pretty good. It hadn't taken long for me to realize that the biggest danger was letting it stiffen up again.

Coach had me do some stretching and light warm-ups before putting me in the ring again. The kid I was sparring with was bigger than Benny, but younger. I couldn't remember his name, but I'd seen him around. We started off slow, letting me get my footing, seeing how the injury made me move differently. There was pain, but it was bearable, and we started to volley punches. I landed some good ones, a sharp jab and one good right hook, and I was feeling pretty good about how things were going. Even Coach looked pleased as he hovered around the corner of the ring.

Then I landed a powerful sidekick to the kid's stomach and the pain that flared through my knee felt like millions of tiny razor blades slicing through my muscles. I stumbled slightly and Coach was under the ropes, stopping the match before I was steady again.

"Fuck!" I yelled in frustration. I leaned against the post, ignoring the people who'd turned to look at me.

"Dammit, Luke," Joe said. "It's not gonna work like this. You've got to protect your knee. If you put your right knee forward, you'd not only protect your left from a blow, but you'll be kicking with your right, saving the left knee from any impact. Besides, your right's stronger."

"If I can't use both my legs, I've got no shot. The Butcher will see the weakness and exploit it. Hell, that's what I'd do." I wanted to hit something. I wanted to put my fist through a wall and break things. Because of one evil motherfucker, everything was going to hell.

Coach was silent for a minute, thinking. Then I saw a gleam in his eyes and knew he'd come up with something completely unconventional.

"I know how you can gain an advantage," he said as a smile creased his lips. "Change your stance and become a southpaw."

I stared at him. Was he serious? I shook my head. This was the craziest thing I'd ever heard. "It's not possible," I said. "I can't become ambidextrous in forty-eight hours."

Coach gave me a sly look. "With my method you can."

"Your method?" I asked warily.

"Just trust me," he said. "I'll be right back."

I watched him make his way to the locker room, wondering what new form of torture he was going to subject me to. When he came back with a piece of rope, I was really confused.

"Sorry, Coach, I'm not into that kinky stuff," I joked.

"Don't be a smart-ass." He climbed back into the ring. "Give me your right hand."

I put my hand out, wondering what I'd gotten myself into. Coach tied my arm to my side. Yeah, this was going to suck.

"You're gonna lead with your left and keep your right leg in front of your left. That's your strong knee now and that's the one you'll use to kick the shit out of him." Coach grinned. "The advantage of this change is The Butcher won't know it's coming. He's expecting you to be right-handed, and now you've switched. That'll make it look like your left side isn't weak, and it'll leave him open. That's when you strike."

I could appreciate Coach's enthusiasm, but I had such a short period of time to make this work. After all, the fight was the day after tomorrow. "It all sounds good in theory, Coach, but I only have forty-eight hours to learn to be a lefty, so are we going to start training or stand here chatting?"

"Don't steal my lines." Coach climbed under the ropes. "Get over there and let me see you knock down Lopez now."

Lopez. I turned towards the kid. Right.

Chapter Twenty-Seven.

Luke I was on my stomach, eyes closed, trying to relax into the massage Sasha was giving me. It was just a couple hours until the fight and I'd taken it easier than usual that morning, wanting to rest my knee so that it wouldn't get stiff before the first round. Now, I was trying to settle into my usual pre-fight routine and ignore the dull throbbing that had been consistent since the...accident. Hell, it was more like sabotage.

"Hey, Champ."

I turned my head to see Bruno coming into the locker room, that shit-eating grin on his face. I tensed, anger flaring.

"How's that knee of yours? I heard you had a little accident."

"Fuck you," I snapped. "Don't pretend this wasn't your doing. I know you paid your boyfriend to fuck up my knee."

Bruno's face darkened, but he laughed, the kind of laugh I'd heard him give while he'd watched his thugs beat the shit out of someone who owed him money. "You won't even be able to breathe after this fight, much less speak, so I'll let the insult slide this time. See you in hell, Champ."

I watched him walk out, then realized Sasha had stopped the massage when Bruno had interrupted. I was still seething, but I wasn't gonna be a dick and take it out on Sasha. "Sorry about that Sasha, you can continue now."

"Sure thing, Luke." Her voice was flat. I supposed that wasn't the first time she'd heard Bruno threaten someone. Hopefully, it would be the last.

Dani I was experiencing a very strong sense of deja vu as I walked down the same backstage hallway where I'd first seen Luke. It felt like years had passed since then. At least, this time, I wasn't sneaking around. I had a pass.

It had been a week since I'd seen Luke and I was going crazy. I knew he'd been right to focus on his training, but it didn't mean that my stomach hadn't been in knots this whole time. I'd lost five pounds from not being able to eat. Right now, though, all I had on my mind was seeing Luke before the fight began. I'd never actually seen him fight in a match, but I'd been watching the ones before his and I knew how brutal it was going to be. I had to see him before that happened.

So, I'd gathered my courage and come in early. Joe had been easy to spot and I hadn't let his gruff manner deter me from asking if I could see Luke. I was certain he'd say no and I'd have to find a way to sneak backstage, but he simply gave me a hard look, then nodded and handed me a pass. He told me that he understood why I wanted to see Luke and that he appreciated me coming to him to ask. He also said that he knew Luke and I had been sneaking around during training and admitted that it had actually helped. I smiled. Maybe coach was starting to warm up to me.

I stopped outside the locker room. Tonight, the door was closed, but Joe had told me to go ahead in. It wasn't like it'd be a problem if I walked in on Luke changing or something. My stomach tightened as memories of him naked flashed through my mind. I knocked, then opened the door without waiting for anyone to answer.

Luke was lying on a table, a masseuse working on his back. The sense of deja vu doubled as I saw the same woman kneading the muscles beneath a tattoo I now knew intimately. The woman gave me a dirty look as her mouth opened to tell me to leave.

"I'm here to see Luke." The words rushed out of me and I sensed more than saw Luke's body tense.

Before the masseuse could say anything, Luke spoke, "It's okay, Sasha. Take a break."

As Sasha walked past me, she shot me a less than friendly look, and then Luke turned towards me as he pulled himself into a sitting position.

There was an awkward silence before I decided to break it with the first thing that popped into my head. "Sasha?"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, my masseuse."

"Does she do anything you want her to?" I was only half-joking as I walked towards him.

The expression on his face said he knew what I was thinking. "Don't even go there."

I started to smile, but now I noticed something I hadn't caught before. A flesh-colored bandage around his knee.

"What's that?" All of the knots in my stomach squeezed and twisted painfully. "Why do you have a bandage on your knee?"

"It's nothing." Luke's tone was soothing, but I could hear an undercurrent of something else. "I just strained a muscle."

"Luke." I started to reach towards him but wasn't sure if he would want me to touch him, so I dropped my hand. I wouldn't, however, stop myself from voicing my concern. "You can't go into the ring against this Butcher if you're hurt. He'll kill you." I forced my voice to remain reasonable, even though I was feeling anything but. "You've got to withdraw from the fight. People will understand if you're injured."

He took my hand and pressed his lips against my palm, sending a shiver through my entire body. "Dani, I've got this. My injury is nothing. If anything, it'll make me more focused." His expression was more serious than the situation demanded.

"There's too much at stake for me not to go through with this fight. Besides, Coach and I already have a strategy worked out." He put my hand on his cheek. "In two hours, this'll all be over and we can be together." He paused, then added, "Isn't that what you want?"

I swallowed hard, trying to push aside my fears and doubts. "It is. That's all I want."

He smiled and brushed his lips across my knuckles. "Then let's make it happen."

There was still something off, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

"Positive."

I still wasn't sure I believed him, but at that moment, a woman behind me cleared her throat and I knew Sasha had returned.

"We need to get going here," she said.

"I have to get back to my pre-fight prep," Luke said. He squeezed my hand before stretching back out on the table. He kept his face turned towards me as Sasha started to massage his back again. "I'll see you after the fight."

I wanted to give him a kiss, but I didn't want to distract him while he was getting his head in the game. "Okay, babe. Be safe." I smiled at him. "And kick that son of a butcher's ass."

Luke laughed as I headed for the door. Just before I walked out, I heard him say, "Don't worry, I will."

I clung to that as I made my way back to my ringside seat.

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

Luke The abandoned factory had the high ceilings and lack of insulation that made the cheers of hundreds echo like the roar of thousands. I knew that the people who packed the metal bleachers and rows of seats were cheering more in anticipation of the blood and violence to come than they were actually cheering for me, but I didn't give a damn about that. Instead, I bounced on my toes, absorbing the energy and letting the adrenaline flood my body. I was in the best shape of my life and had never been more ready for a fight. The throb in my knee was distant as I pushed all thoughts of pain or other distractions aside.

The Butcher looked younger in person, but the dark glint in his eyes told me that this kid was no pushover. He was a killer, and I had a feeling that was literal. We gave each other the required handshake, locked gazes and waited for the signal to begin.

The first round didn't go my way. The Butcher came at me hard, determined to get an early lead on points, or take my head off. Whatever. This guy's kicks came at me like a hammer. I managed to get in a couple hits, but he wrestled out of every hold I tried. The first time he threw me, I heard a collective groan from the crowd. The second time, they cheered. By the time the bell rang at the end of round one, I knew I'd had my ass handed to me. I wasn't really feeling the pain yet, still flooded with all the endorphines the body produced to go along with adrenaline, but I knew it was coming.

I sat down heavily as Coach gave me water.

"What the fuck, Luke?" he snapped. "Didn't my guy hook you up with some help? Those pills?"

I gave Joe a serious look. "You're fucking crazy if you think I need amphetamines to win this match. I threw them in the toilet." I didn't tell him that I'd actually considered them for about half an hour before I came to my senses.

He was silent for a moment and I waited for him to tell me that I'd been an idiot. Instead, he grinned and clapped his hand on my cheek. "That's my boy. Now go knock out that asshole."

The bell rang and I shoved my mouth guard back in and headed back into the ring.

I did better in the next few rounds as I settled into a new rhythm. I had to work harder to protect my knee and that put me at a disadvantage since I wasn't quite as quick on my feet. But I compensated. I anticipated more of his moves, dodging blows and using his momentum against him. The first time, I caught his arm and used the leverage to throw him over my back and down to the mat. His body slammed against the mat with a thud. Damn, that felt good. My waning confidence had been restored.

I was slowly gaining on The Butcher in points, but by the time the fifth round ended, I was still behind, and my knee was starting to protest against everything I'd been making it do. There was a cut over my right eye that stung like hell as sweat got into it, but Coach had at least stopped the bleeding so I could see. My ribs were aching and I knew I'd be black and blue tomorrow. But fuck that. No way in hell was I giving up now. I needed something big this next round or I'd lose, and Bruno would collect on his big two million dollar wager.

The bell rang and we both went to our corners. When I sat down, I stretched my leg out in front of me and wondered how much more of a beating it could take before it buckled. I'd protected it so far, but the odds of avoiding a clear kick to the knee, by a guy called The Butcher, were getting smaller with every new round.

Joe leaned closer to me on the pretense of checking my cut. "Now's the time to change," he whispered.

"Change?"

"Yeah," he said. "Put your right knee forward, just like we practiced."

"You sure?" Practice had gone well, but I wasn't as confident as Coach.

"Just do it," he said firmly.

I nodded and got to my feet, ignoring the new stab of pain in my leg. As I was moving towards my mark, I saw Bruno sneer at me, then say something to The Butcher. The kid nodded, then started towards me. As soon as The Butcher's eyes flicked down to my leg, I knew that Bruno had just told the kid to take out my left knee.

Fuck that.

I got into my usual stance, not wanting to tip my hand, and waited for the bell. I let out a slow breath and everything came into focus. The bell rang and The Butcher and I danced around each other for a few seconds, waiting for one of us to make the first move.

I saw him lift and chamber his leg a fraction of a second before he made his move. The Butcher let out a yell of frustration as I sidestepped the powerful sidekick he'd aimed at my left knee. I used the movement to shift my stance and put my right foot forward. I had a split second to see the confusion on The Butcher's face before I delivered two sharp jabs with my right. He tried to protect his face, but Coach had been correct. He'd practiced for right, not left, and the left hook that connected with his jaw knocked him back into the ropes.

I didn't give him a chance to recover and delivered a right leg kick straight into his abdominals, sending the air rushing from his lungs. Instinctively, he bent forward to try to catch his breath. I jumped up high, ignoring the pain in my knee, and caught his neck between my ankles. I then executed a perfect flying scissor kick takedown, and slammed The Butcher to the canvas. I immediately switched to a chokehold, tightening my legs as The Butcher tried to throw me off. His face began to turn red.

"Come on, you son of a bitch." The words were garbled because of my mouth guard, but the intent was clear. "Tap out."

He tried to roll but I just increased the pressure to his windpipe and red started to turn purple. His hand pounded flat on the canvas and the referee grabbed my arm, pulling me off The Butcher as the kid gasped and choked.

The crowd was on its feet as the ref held up my hand and declared me the winner. I could barely hear him over the chants of "Ren-e-gade! Ren-e-gade!" and my own harsh breathing.

I didn't see the adoring fans as I scanned the crowd for Dani. Where was she? I started towards the ropes, focused on finding her, when Coach climbed through and grabbed my arm.

"What a match, Luke!" He was laughing. "I think Bruno's gonna have a rough night."

I looked over to The Butcher's corner. The kid was still on the mat, looking dazed and unfocused, but Bruno was gone. I looked back at Joe as his words registered.

"You knew about the betting?"

Coach rolled his eyes. "Of course. Everyone knew that Bruno was putting everything on the line for this match."

I sank down on the corner stool and caught movement out of the corner of my right eye. I turned, hoping it was Dani. Instead, it was Brad.

"You fucking did it!" He held out his hand.

I shook it. "Yeah, but Bruno disappeared."

Brad didn't look concerned. "Don't worry. The Feds are already outside. They're probably putting the asshole in witness protection as we speak." He grinned. "You'll be getting your professional license back soon, Champ." His smile widened. "You fucking did it!"

I laughed. "How much did you bet?"

Brad joined my laughter. "Just a few thousand." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Let's just say I'll be buying the drinks tonight."

"Damn right," I said. "I haven't had a drink in six weeks."