At our nods, he gets up from the table, stalks off to the bar to order.
This pub is an original, meaning, you need to order food and drinks at the bar and they bring it to you.Also, families, including dogs, are welcome.
A peal of laughter breaks through my thoughts.I turn, and in the adjoining dining room, I see a girl who must be nine or ten, talking animatedly to her sister.She’s wearing a red dress.The sunshine slants in through the window and highlights her auburn locks.The red highlights glint, and for a second, it’s as if there’s a halo around her head.
She laughs again, and the sound is so musical, so carefree...When is the last time I felt that way?Just living in the moment, without being burdened by my past.Without the constant ache that I seem to carry inside me.I'd do anything to feel so free, so innocent again.
Saint walks back, with a pitcher and I turn back to the boys, follow along with their half-assed jokes.I glance down at my heaped plate but don’t feel like eating anymore.I reach for my pint of beer, down half of it, then wipe the foam off my upper lip as I glance sideways at the table again.Only the space is empty.
Huh, did I imagine it?Was the girl actually there?And why the hell am I so curious about her?She was only a kid… And yet, something about how she’d laughed and tossed her head of curls, it hinted at the woman she’ll become one day, which… Is none of my business.I don’t know her at all.Probably won’t ever see her again.
"Baron."There’s a touch on my shoulder.I turn to find Damian staring at me."You okay, man?"he asks.
I nod.
"You look pale," he comments.
"Only because I have been spending too much time in the presence of you reprobates."I grimace.
Damian smirks, "Let’s get out of here."
6
Six months later
Edward
"What the bloody hell—?"I watch as Baron launches across the short space that constitutes the fighting ring of the street-fight organized by the Bratva.
We are in the warehouse where the Kings of the Alley street fight organized by the Bratva takes place every week.Dumbass Damian had made a deal with them.The Bratva would get him onto one of the most prestigious venues in London to perform his first gig.In return, Damian would take on their best fighter, aka the Incredible Hulk—only uglier—a guy who shakes off Baron like he's the Ant Man.
Yeah, Baron had taken Damian’s place because he is a better fighter, but clearly, he is no match for the Russian street fighter who heads toward his prone body.I move forward, pause when Baron jumps to his feet.The two circle each other.
The crowd begins to chant…
"Go Dima."
"Dima."
"Dima."
Obviously, they support Baron’s opponent.Not a surprise, given this is the Russians’ home ground.Dima lowers his head and charges toward Baron, who tries to sidestep but is not fast enough.His adversary smashes into Baron and the two go down.
Shit.I race toward the man guarding the gate to the makeshift ring, Saint and Arpad at my heels.The guard throws a punch.I duck, rush in.Behind me, I hear the sounds of a scuffle, while Arpad charges past me.He grasps Dima’s shoulders, shoves him off of Baron.I reach Baron, Saint right behind me.We haul him up to his feet, drag him out of the makeshift arena.I turn, glance back to find Arpad getting in a direct hit to Dima’s head, then his chest...to the stomach, to the side, the chest— I straighten, and with Saint’s help, drag Baron through the crowd.We haul him toward the cordoned-off space at the side that passes for a dressing room.We half-carry, half-drag him inside and pour him into the lone chair.
I lean back, chest heaving."You’re bloody heavy, you know that?"I grouse.
Baron shakes his head, blood pouring from a cut in his lip."Why the fuck did you drag me from there?"He lurches to his feet, takes a step forward and pales."Shit."He grimaces."The asshole broke my ankle."He sways, then sinks back into the chair.
"Erm," I glower, "do you want to ask that question again?"
"We saved your sorry arse from being ground into the dust, bitch," Saint snarls."What the fuck is wrong with you, volunteering to take him on in the first place?"
"Why didn’t you let Arpad take on the challenge to begin with?"I scowl at the wanker."He’s bigger than you, better suited in size to take on Incredible Hulk, out there."
Baron growls again."I could do it…" He bunches his fingers into fists, "I can still defeat him."He squares his shoulders, "Just need to get back in the ring."He rises to his feet, sways, but stays standing.
Saint and I exchange glances.Then Saint taps him on the shoulder, and he collapses back into the chair.
