Samantha’s POV

The arena dissolved into chaos. Shouts rose, echoing off the grimy walls as the ref waved for help. Two men in black rushed from the corner—ringside medics, probably on payroll for nights like this. They slid into the ring with a stretcher, pushing past the coach who was still tapping Caveman’s face frantically while whispering things to him like it would somehow drag him back.

Security spilled forward next, forming a barrier to keep the restless crowd from storming the stage. Some fans booed, others shouted in panic, but most just stood frozen, phones out, recording. My heart hammered against my ribs as I shoved through the sea of bodies, desperate to get closer.

“What the… Sam?! Where are you going?” Chloe chased after me, her hand still gripping tightly onto mine like I would get swept away by the crowd if she let go. “Sam? Sam?!”

“It’s okay, Chloe! I just wanna go check something!” I yelled so she could hear me over the roaring chaos. “Wait for me okay?!” I didn’t wait for her reply before pulling my hand out of her grip and pushing through the crowd.

“But Sam?!! We’re supposed to…” The rest of Chloe’s words got drowned in the wild pandemonium. We both had our phones, which meant we could still find each other after this, so separating wasn’t a big of a deal.

“Step back! Give him space!” I heard one of the medics barking, already fitting an oxygen mask over Caveman’s face. From where I stood, his chest barely rose beneath it.

My throat closed. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be—

Was he actually…

“We need the ambulance,” The coach climbed out of the ring beside them, stopping my thoughts before they went down a morbid path. “Now!” He barked, his face like stone.

I guess this wasn’t a pleasant situation for him. Or anyone else for that matter.

My conversation with the Caveman replayed in my head again and a lump rose in my throat.

I should’ve just held my tongue and not said anything about losing, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

The underground arena roared in protest as if the night was being stolen from them. The announcer’s voice boomed, trying to calm them and promising the matches would continue. But no one cared. Most of them were directing their rage at the other fighter—Stonefist—who had knocked Caveman out in the first place, while the others had their eyes on Caveman who was being strapped down and carried out.

I, however, just focused on getting to the exit, where Caveman was being carried to.

I groaned, shoving harder against the wall of bodies and guards. My pulse was so loud it drowned the noise around me.

Finally I was almost out.

“Let me through!” I begged, fighting against a guard’s arm as they tried to push me back. The stretcher was only a few feet away now, moving fast toward the back doors where red and blue lights flashed faintly from outside.

I couldn’t let them shut me out. Not now. Not when I needed to see if he was okay.

“Move back, miss, you can’t follow,” one of the guards snapped, blocking my path as the stretcher slid into the waiting ambulance.

I shoved against his arm, desperation spilling out of me. “Please—you don’t understand, I need to get in.”

“I’m sorry, but only his people are allowed inside.” The man explained.

“I am his people! I’m not just some fan. He knows me. We grew up together—I’m practically family.” The lie tumbled out before I could even stop it.

Shit. Samantha. What are you doing?

The guard’s brows knit, unimpressed.

“Ask his coach,” I pointed towards the older man, who was currently yelling orders to the rest of the team. “He saw us backstage. We were talking.” I said, using the situation to my advantage.

“I also work for him and have been assisting with his health and helping him watch his diet. So I need to know how he’s doing.” I said the words with so much conviction, even I wondered how I came up with such lies.

The guard hesitated as I brought up the Caveman’s health, he then turned to his colleagues who also looked completely confused by my confession.

“He was talking to me before the fight.” I added, trying to make my lie more believable. “I know his medical history—his allergies, his old injuries. If something happens and you don’t know, it’ll be your fault when it could’ve been avoided.”

Hearing that, their gazes flicked to the crowd behind me before darting to the coach who looked too frazzled to be disturbed, so after hesitating for a bit, they finally let me through.

My chest almost collapsed in relief as the guard stepped aside reluctantly. Seeing my chance, I scrambled up into the ambulance, heart pounding so hard that it hurt.

I heard murmurs of disapproval rippling through the crowd as I entered, but all that didn’t matter to me. I needed to see the Caveman and probably apologize for what I said earlier.

That is… if he was even alive.

I banished the dark thought before it could resurface.

The coach was still yelling to what looked like the ring crew and the paramedics so I took advantage of the opportunity and slipped inside but the sight I met had halted me in my tracks.

The Caveman laid pale and still on the stretcher, oxygen mask fogging faintly with every shallow breath.

Okay… so he was alive…

It felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

…for now.

The weight returned.

What if something happened to him on the way to the hospital? I swear I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

The guilt would hunt me for life.

Eternity.

I inched closer, my hand trembling as I gripped the cold rail of the stretcher. His mask hissed with every shallow pull of air, the sound so fragile I thought it would stop at any second. My gaze trailed over his face—damp hair clinging to his skin, jaw clenched even in unconsciousness, like he was still fighting.

Fighting for his life.

I swallowed hard, my throat burning as I leaned closer. My fingers hovered just above his cheek, desperate to brush away the strands of hair plastered there, to prove he was really here. That he was real. That he was still breathing.

But just as I was about to touch him—

I heard the door swing open, and a sharp voice cut through the tight space.

“Hey! You!”

Oh God.