"Our next fighter is a fan favorite," he began, much to the disdain coming from Billy. "Sorry, Bill, but you've got quite the fight ahead of you. Maybe you shoulda reconsidered before comin’ in tonight."
Billy flipped off the commentator, who only chuckled in response before he motioned toward the pit's dark entryway. If it weren’t for the harsh overhead lights illuminating the pit, I might have been able to see who was waiting in the walkway a little better. Instead, I found myself squinting at the musty air.
"Without further ado, gentlemen— Oh, and the two ladies joining us tonight, who will definitely appreciate our next fighter," the old man smiled, gesturing to Kira and me. The crowd briefly shifted their attention to us, and I moved closer to Kira. "Please welcome our unbeatable Italian stallion, the king of the ring, Romeo!"
The crowd erupted. Even Aiden, who took pride in remaining arrogantly composed at all times, had thrown his arms up with a shout.
I covered my ears, drowning out the roar of the room as I looked across to the entryway again.
Romeo walked with his head high and jaw tight. Confidence dripped from him with every step of his long stride – long because he was ridiculously tall. And very shirtless.
His golden brown skin was covered in tattoos, each one of intricate detail. Compared to the tiny bunch of wildflowers I had tattooed inconspicuously between my shoulder blades, he had treated his entire body as a canvas.
A large snake wound down the length of his left arm and a collection of skulls decorated his right bicep; A rose covered the left side of his chest with a stem curving down over his ribs, blending with a large portrait of Medusa on his side; Etched across his shoulder blades, and along the back of his arms was a pair of wings. They looked like demon wings, made of feathers and talons, and were joined in the center of his back by a spiked spine tattoo. Any empty skin on his right arm was completely tattooed black, right down to his wrist, where it formed the shape of a crown on the back of his right hand.
Other small tattoos included a moth across the front of his throat and a gliding black bird above his right hip. The latter drew my eyes to his unrealistically perfect abs and the V line coming up from the hem of his black shorts.
As he entered the pit, he remained calm, casually sizing up his much shorter opponent as he rolled his broad shoulders. The movement flexed the muscles of his back and biceps before he adjusted the black gauze strapped around his fists.
He was strikingly handsome in a mean, probably could break your heart and crush your soul, kind of way, with a too-straight nose for a fighter, jet-black wavy hair that was shorter around the back and sides, and a jawline that could cut glass, it was difficult to look away.
“You’re goin’ down,” Billy said. Or it's what I guessed he said as I read his lips.
Romeo didn’t respond. He only dragged his hand through his hair, combing the messy strands away from his face, before he glanced to his left and tipped his head to someone in the crowd. I followed his gaze to the only part of the crowd that wasn’t losing their marbles, where men in suits were seated in a quartered-off section.
One nodded back to the fighter in a silent exchange. He was an older gentleman with stark white hair and a tailored black suit. His gold watch and cane glinted in the bright spotlights above.
I assumed maybe he was a benefactor or trainer.
My eyes flicked back to Romeo as he pulled his eyes off the man. And for a moment, his gaze casually raked over the crowd until he spotted Kira and me.
His double-take was subtle and completely reasonable. We were the only females in the room, dressed like we were plucked from lunch in the suburbs. When his gaze lingered a little longer, narrowed even as his brow furrowed slightly, I held my breath.
The bell suddenly rang again, and the fight was on. As soon as it started, I covered my face and watched through my fingers. From what I could see, Romeo was good. Billy had managed to get a few punches in, but Romeo was quick and agile for his size. He dodged one of the punches with a sidestep and hit Billy in the ribs. When Billy keeled over, Romeo's fist came up under his chin. Billy's head snapped back like it was on a hinge, spraying blood from his gaping mouth as his eyes crossed. He fell flat on his back, where he remained dazed. The commentator began to count to ten. When Billy didn't attempt to stand before the count had finished, the crowd erupted with near-hysterical applause.
Romeo stood over Billy, breathing heavily with only a cut through his right eyebrow. He gave Billy a light tap on the cheek before muttering something to him.
Billy could only manage a nod in response, keeping his eyes closed.
The winner didn’t hang around long after that. He straightened, skin glistening with sweat, and left the pit. No grand celebration of his win. Not even a look at the man in the suit. He just hung his head as he walked down the entrance again.
Just like that, another fight was over, and I was left wondering if it happened as I watched barely conscious Billy lay on the blood-spattered wooden boards a little longer. Eventually, two men came to help him out of the pit. Each supported an arm around their shoulders while he dragged his feet behind. At the same time, the crowd began moving, slowly collecting their winnings from somewhere in the back of the room. Aiden included as he shuffled away from Kira and me.
I hadn't taken my eyes off the pit as he left, a faint grimace on my face directed at the drops of blood seeping into the floor.
"It was kind of exhilarating, don't you think?" Kira said.
My head snapped in her direction. "Did—did we just watch the same thing?"
"I'm not saying I like it,” Kira laughed and nudged me with her elbow. “Romeo wasn't too bad looking, though."
“If you like the broody, violent type— That’s beside the point. This, all of this, is illegal,” I hissed, voice breaking with a squeak.
Kira’s smile wavered. “I know, I know.”
Aiden returned, draping an arm around her shoulder. His smile was wide as he fanned several banknotes in front of Kira’s face. “Remember girls. The first rule of fight club? Don’t talk about fight club.”
The queue from the basement was long and full of drunk, sweaty men all heading back up to the club. To celebrate their wins or drown their losses with alcohol. The passageway back was congested and near claustrophobic, so Aiden edged us towards an exit halfway along the right wall that led to the alleyway outside. It was the only time I ever wanted to thank him.
