Smoke curls around the sides of his face as he asks, “Good, yeah. We got new blood in the ring tonight. You wanna put some money down?”
I rock onto the back of my heels. “What do you know about ’em?”
Monies grins, cigarette dangling from his mouth. “It’s a lady. Got herself a helluva right hook and a sexy rack’ll make you forget your own name. Done dropped Brutus and Sampson both like sacks o’ crawfish. You best pay attention to that one. She’s a moneymaker.”
That catches my attention. I’ve gone a few rounds with both and walked away a couple of broken ribs.
“She’s that good, huh?” I know he’s talking about Harlow and I’m also aware of what she is capable of, but she’s always had a way of taking my breath away. I never expected to see Harlow again, much less in my own establishment.
“Tell you what, she’s made more folks richer than the slots upstairs tonight. You want my two cents? Bet on her. That’s easy money.”
Monies shrugs a thick shoulder in a way that says I can either take his advice or leave it. His knowing grin says he knows what I do. Harlow is a powerhouse and knows how to handle herself in the ring.
“How ’bout it, boss? Three to one payout as usual. You in?”
He sucks on the filter end of a cancer stick, filling the space with a heavy stench of smoke.
I glance back toward the ring, where Harlow stretches her arms, preparing for another round with the next fighter. I’m almost sorry I missed her taking down Brutus and Sampson.
“Know what, man. Put me down for fifty. And maybe put down the cigarettes, too. Fuck. How are you breathing through all that nasty smoke?”
Some people do not respect the life they’re given, but I can’t keep the man from what he loves.
Monies gives a rough laugh weighed down by years of sucking on those damn things.
“Nah, I’m good. Down to two packs a day, though. Better than my usual three. You add more bouncers in here and I might get down to one pack. The fighters stir up a lot of emotions and sometimes that boils over to the patrons.”
“Copy that. I’ll get the ball rolling. Count on it being done.” I step away with a mental note to talk to the crew about getting more security. Normally everyone is pretty well behaved for anunderground fight club. No one wants the cops in here, but I hear him.
I melt into the shadows, watching as another fighter steps into the ring with Harlow. This one is bigger than Brutus or Sampson. This one’s way too overconfident, but he’s gonna find out the hard way which seems to be the theme of the night. I look on from the darkness as Harlow’s opponent lands a right hook that snaps her head back, and something dark and violent coils in my gut.
She takes it, but it’s me who has a hard time watching a man put his hands on my woman.
Used to be mine, I remind myself. I glue my feet and continue to watch.
Harlow doesn’t seem fazed.
She moves like water, like she knows exactly how far she can bend before she breaks someone. She lays into him with every move I taught her, every move her brother taught her, and a few moves I think she picked up from her FBI courses.
Point is, the other fighter is learning that underestimating your opponent is a rookie move. Period.
One good right hook to the left followed by one on the right and a solid front kick that catches center mass and Harlow fells another one of our fighters. Shit. At this rate we won’t have anyone else to put in there.
When she drops him, the crowd goes wild again and then it’s over.
I look on as thick wads of cash change hands. Our bookie snags my attention and I give him a nod. He knows where to put my winnings.
I look back to see the behemoth Harlow dropped, shaking himself back into the world of the living after being knocked out by someone a third of his size. He leans over and I can’t help but smile as blood hits the concrete.
Harlow takes her payout from Monies and disappears into the mass of bodies.
Shit.
For a second I can’t find her, but her strawberry blonde hair is easy to spot when the crowd parts to let her through.
I don’t follow her right away. I hold back and wait. I count my breaths instead of acting on impulse. When I finally step out into the snowy night my pulse is steady and my mind is clear. I slip into my SUV and follow her smaller car. The snow gets thicker on the road as we head north of New Orleans. For a minute I think we are heading back to my parish, but then she turns down several back roads that lead us away from anything I’m familiar with.
I kill the headlights and keep my distance. It’s not easy to stay on the road, but it’s not long until she takes a single-lane road that’s more snow and mud than anything else.
