Dead silence reigned in Iron & Dust. Nobody moved. Nobody breathed. Jax was still out
cold. Thorne was rolling on the mat, bleeding profusely. Bull was clutching his arm, staring
up at Elara with terror.
Elara walked over to the ropes, unfastened the velcro on her gloves, and tossed them out of
the ring. She didn't look back at the three men. She looked at Mac, the owner, whose jaw
was practically on the floor.
"I'm going to hit the showers, Mac," she said casually. "Might want to call an ambulance for
the first one. He's going to have a concussion."
As she walked toward the locker room, whispers finally erupted behind her.
Unbeknownst to Elara, a kid sitting in the bleachers had been recording the sparring