“No thank you, stranger. I respectfully decline your invitation to a secondary location,” Indigo drawled in a bored tone. “How about this? Your man wins the third fight, and I’ll answer your stupid questions about where I’m from. I win, and you explain why you’re so interested in me. What do you say?”
Ay dios mio. “Or,” I chimed in, “third option. Everyone puts away their weapons, and we go our separate ways? The Petrovs and the Crows have never had a problem with each other; there’s no need to create one now.” I was getting really tired of having to be the rational one in thissituation. Or hell, in general. I felt like I was the only one rooted in reality these days.
“You’ll tell me what I want to know? Honestly?” Riordan looked way too eager for a man with a blade to his balls. I mean, I wasn’t trying to yuck his yum, but a knife to my balls didn’t sound like a good time to me. Indigo held up her pinky finger, and I groaned, knowing the night had officially just gone off the rails.
“I pinky swear.” Indigo solemnly offered her pinky to Riordan, who glanced at it and back to her face, trying to decide whether she was serious. After they hooked pinky fingers and shook, Indigo immediately withdrew her blade and stowed it back into her boot. Lennon also withdrew her stiletto knife, tucking it into her hair where I assume she had a sheath of some sort hidden in her curly mane. Ivan twirled and hit Lennon with a glare, but she just shrugged and gave him a sheepish look in response. I wasn’t sure if I liked Indigo’s influence on Lennon, but I had to admit watching her hold a knife to thatperrawas hot as hell. Linking arms with her bestie, Indigo blew a kiss in our general direction and pranced down to Bear. My stomach sank as I realized just how out of control this situation was about to get.
Indigo
Check. Mate. Muthafuckaaaaa! I could feel the eyes belonging to Riordan, Ivan, and Bones searing into my back as Lennon and I sashayed down the steps to the ring. Cricket and Bear were there, talking about whatever bikers discussed when my bestie and I approached them. I had the weirdest feeling the entire time Riordan sat next to me.
It was kind of like the feeling I got when I cooked a microwave burrito in a gas station microwave. I’d read the instructions, throw away the wrapper, put my burrito into the microwave, and after about a minute, I’d forget what the instructions said and fish the wrapper out of the trash to double-check and make sure I wasn’t about to nuke the shit out of my only meal for the day. I sensed I wasn’t picking up on something about him or missing some hidden significance when he was near me. And I didn’t like it; feelings like that led to a burnt soft palette or worse, depending on the burrito or man in question.
“Lennon, Indigo, having a good time?” Bear offered in greeting.
“Well, wewere,” Lennon huffed, “before Boris and Natasha came over and started fishing for information.”
“Does that make us Rocky and Bullwinkle?” I asked because if so, I had perpetual dibs on Rocky. Cricket caught Bones’s eye and strode over to where Bones was sitting to speak to him in harsh whispers. Ivan and Riordan were clucking like hens, too. Men were so gossipy.
“So wait,” Bear chimed in, “which one is Boris and which one is Natasha?”
Lennon giggled, and I rolled my eyes. “Right, like it’s not glaringly obvious. Bear, I need to ask you a huge favor. It’s a matter of life and death and a pinky promise, to boot. I don’t need to tell you, that’s some serious shit.” Bear regarded me like he usually did: seriously. Lennon told me that a lot of people were unsettled by Bear because he rarely smiled and gave off “resting bitch face” vibes most of the time. I didn’t mind at all, because RBF is an art form.
“I know you have a system,” I hedged, “but I’d owe you big time if you’d let me replace the fighter slated to face Riordan’s pick in the next fight. Pretty please?” I batted my eyelashes at the man, who regarded me sternly down the proud bridge of his nose.
“I don’t know if you understand what you’re asking for.”
“How about this? Let me talk to the person slated to fight Petrov’s man. If they agree, I take their spot. If they don’t, I’ll back out gracefully. Please, Bear?”
Bear glanced at Bones, then back at me. Nodding his head, he blew out a breath. “If the other fighter agrees to your taking his spot, I can make it work. Remember, you owe me a huge favor, and I alwayscollect.” He walked off before we could pinky promise on it, but I didn’t hold that against him. Pinky-swear rules were in effect, regardless of if he knew it or not.
Bear stopped next to a man, who must have been six-foot-three and two hundred and fifty pounds of sheer muscle. He spoke to the man, then gestured to me. I squared my shoulders, dropping Lennon’s arm, and murmured to her that I’d be back. Keeping my eyes on the huge hunk of man before me, I crossed over to his position near the ring. I placed my hand on his arm, pulling him down so his ear was low enough to talk to him in the loud and crowded space. My lips were close enough to his ear that I could have left lipstick prints on him instead of threats.
Bracing myself on his meaty forearm, I said what I needed to say. Planting my feet and releasing his arm, I waited for him to decide. Bless his heart, the man did a double take and stared at me like I had a second head. I just smiled my best “I’ll cook your pet hamster in a tea kettle” smile and waited for my whispered threats to take hold. Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long. He gestured to the ring and told me to “have at it” before walking back to the locker room, looking much more nervous than he had when talking to Bear.
“What the hell did you say to him?” Lennon asked, sounding bewildered. She had slowly slunk over while I was waiting for him to decide.
Smugly, I shrugged. “Who knows why men do what they do? I gently suggested he let me handle this match, and he gracefully accepted my advice.” Bear, who had monitored my exchange with his fighter, came striding over with wraps and a mouth guard.
“Priest would kill me if I allowed you to lose any teeth tonight.” He slid the mouth guard between my lips and started wrapping my knuckles. I let the comment go because it would take more brainpower to ponder what he meant than it would to focus on the imminent threat of violence I was facing. “Bones is livid, in case you were wondering. You’ve got everyone's attention.” Bear shot a serious look at Lennon, who looked over her shoulder to see two very determined-looking Russians and two worried Crows.
Bones’s dark eyes burned in their sockets; he was so mad! Cricket looked concerned, but I flipped my hair over my shoulder and turnedaway from his worried expression. I didn’t even want to think about the look on Riordan’s face. One part anticipation, one part burning desire to win. I crossed my fingers and hoped that I wasn’t making a huge mistake and somehow, someway, playing right into Uncle Roark’s hands. As far as I was aware, the Callahans didn’t have much to do with the bratva, but any time someone even looked at me twice, I wondered if it was because they were in Uncle Roark’s pocket. Riordan didn’t give me that vibe, and I generally accepted the judgment calls made by my gut. Instinct had kept me alive so far so I wasn’t going to question it too closely. My gut told me Riordan wasn’t a threat, but my head explained calmly that he was too interested for it to be a coincidence when he asked me where I was from and who my family was. No dude asked that many questions without having a reason.
Bear finished wrapping my knuckles tightly, then gave me a nod. Lennon quickly braided my hair and wrapped the braid into a low bun to keep it out of my way while I fought. Bear climbed up onto the ring, propping himself up on the ropes, and used his megaphone to announce my match.
“Are you sure about this?” Lennon nervously eyed my opponent where he stood on the other side of the ring. Riordan’s man wasn’t as bulky as the fighter I scared off, but that didn’t mean he didn’t look like he could fuck someone's shit right up. Tattoos covered every square inch of his exposed skin from the neck down, and he had piercings through each of his nipples. I knew this because he chose to fight in just a pair of athletic shorts. I was kinda glad he chose to be skins so I could keep my shirt on, though now that I think about it, most of the fighters had chosen to only wear shorts like professional boxers do. Maybe Tough Guy was a gentleman; I really shouldn’t judge him by his appearance. I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, if he lost with grace, after the match, I could explain to him how stupid it was to fight with your nipple piercings in. He was just asking to get a nip severed.
“I have this, bestie. Here.” I reached down into my boot to grab my butterfly knife and handed it to Lennon. “Hold this for me, ’kay? I’ll be right back.”
I slid under the ropes and quickly popped up and waved at my opponent. We approached Bear, who now stood in the middle of thering. I guess he was going to be our referee. I was so excited to win this fight and get some answers out of Riordan that I didn’t really pay attention to what Bear was saying. He snapped his fingers in front of my face, drawing my attention back to him. “Focus, Indigo. The rule tonight is no weapons. Everything else goes. First person to lose consciousness or tap out loses.” With those terse words, Bear strode to the ropes and ducked out of the ring. I offered my hand to my opponent. “Hi! I’m Indigo, and I’ll be kicking your ass tonight!” I grinned. Tough Guy wasn’t amused.
“You should have waited until Tuesday. That’s when Bear usually schedules the bitch fights.Shame.” He ran his eyes up and down my body insultingly, not even trying to hide his sneer. “Nice tits, though. After I spank your ass, if you’re looking for round two, you can find me in the locker room.” Tough Guy bit his lip, and I decided right then and there that he, in fact, wasnota gentleman.
I didn’t have time to respond to Tough Guy because a bell rang, signaling the start of our fight. Immediately, a stinging backhanded slap burst across my cheekbone, snapping my head to the side. Why was it always a backhand to the cheek with pissants like this guy? It was just so… unoriginal. I rolled my neck and turned a glare onto Tough Guy, who was smugly sneering down his nose at me. “I thought you said bitch fights were on Tuesday?” I taunted. “You hit like a fucking girl.”
Black rage flashed in his eyes at my words, and Tough Guy raised his hand to strike me again. He must be used to hitting women who don’t hit back because the shock on his face when I blocked his arm was priceless. He put too much force into his blow because when it didn’t land like he expected it to, I was able to use his momentum to pull him off balance and land an uppercut to his stomach, causing him to double over. Taking advantage of his position, I drove my knee up into his gut twice.
I danced away before he had even straightened up, knowing I’d need to keep a little distance between us. He had over a hundred pounds on me, easy, with twice the reach I did. Tough Guy was physically stronger than I was, but I was much faster. We traded jabs and moved around the ring, testing each other before committing to a plan of attack. Tough Guy taunted me for having a vagina, probably, I wasn’t entirely sure. I stopped listening to him a while ago, choosing instead to focus on hismovements and humming theThree’s Companytheme song under my breath. Music has always helped me focus, and that song was just so dang catchy!
