I glanced out into the crowd at Trev. He pounded the stage with his hands, yelling encouragement and jumping around. I basked in the applause and chanting the crowd took up. A few seconds passed before I could make out “new recruits!” because the words bled together.
Trev turned and laughed, pointing out into the dark spaces beyond the lights swinging over me, where I had trouble seeing. Men were dragging something toward the stage. My stomach soured as they got close enough that I could make out three guys who looked terrified. They were probably a few years older than me, maybe Trev’s age, and they didn’t want to be on the stage. Someone came up and moved the ropes aside, and men lifted and dumped the three—fuck, what?Victims?—into the ring with us. They were already bruised to hell, and one skinny guy, who might have been cute prior to his beating, had blood around his mouth and two black eyes. The other two were banged up but nowhere near as bad as him.
Black was back, still shirtless, and now I understood why he wasn’t wearing much. I was hot after my workout and steam rose from my body into the cool air. He clapped a hand to my back, then went and did the same to the blond guy.
When Black was done saying something quiet to the blond, he held up his hands again and there was more shouting from the crowd. Jibes filled the air, and the energy morphed into something bloodthirsty. I’d seen a night like this once, when the wrong person—me—had come out on top in a fight, and most of the people in the crowd were about to lose their shirts to the bookies. I swore I caught some horrible names coming toward the stage, things I didn’t even like to fucking call people when I was trying to get their goat, and it was all directed at the men trembling on their knees near us.
My stomach tossed and I gagged.
Black grinned at me and held up his microphone.
“These sorry excuses for men are the products of scum.” Black kicked the first guy in the huddled line on the ring floor hard across the face as I held my breath. He went down on his side, moaning and holding his jaw. “Committed the disgusting crime of sodomy.” He didn’t even bother going near the skinny kid. My heart about stopped, and I searched for Trev in the crowd. He was still smiling at me. I clenched my hands into fists and glanced toward the big door on the other side of the room, but it was still closed.
Being gay wasn’t exactly something a lot of people were happy about, but fuck, they beat him up for it? Black stopped at the last man on the floor and kicked him in the stomach so hard he moved him a few feet. “And this fuck doesn’t give me the respect I deserve. He was a recruit. Didn’t learn his place.” The man on the ground closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the floor, merely holding his stomach like he was already resigned to his fate. My heart rushed and my pulse banged like a drum in my ears.
Black stomped toward me, and I brought my fists up to the sound of laughter. He only ruffled my hair, and I could barely breathe. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a closed folding knife about the size of my hand. The long, serrated blade flashed as he flipped it free of the handle and raised it high so everyone could get a good eyeful. After what felt like forever, he held the weapon out to me. Stupidly I took it, my hand closing around the metal grip warmed by Black’s body heat. There was a roar of approval from the crowd. Black went over to the tall blond and handed him a knife, too. We looked at each other—a horrifying, silent connection in the sea of chaos. For a wild second I wondered if the real fight was about to start. The blond smiled and glanced out over the crowd. I counted my breaths and shuffled as far as I could away from him. He flipped open his blade and held it up to a roar of approval.
I stared in horror as he crossed the ring and dropped to his knees beside the man on the floor who apparently had respect issues. I jumped, shocked as the blond drove the blade into the prone man’s neck, right below his skull. He turned and smiled at me as he yanked the blade out. Blood spurted. I’d never fucking seen anything like it. The man on the floor wailed, and the sound died slowly.
Horrified, I dropped my knife.
“Stop!” Black shouted.
Fuck that.I ran toward the back of the stage and those horrible, stupid fucking flags, exactly like the patch on Trev’s coat. Adrenaline gripped me as I scrambled over the ropes until I was able to drop to the floor. There wasn’t anyone back here, thank fuck. I let out a cry of relief as I spotted a door not far off to my right. I ran for it, flung it open, and bolted inside the room.
But I was screwed. Panic ate at me as I whined out my disbelief. I was in some sort of office, and there weren’t even goddamned windows. A clunky old wooden desk anchored down by a huge boxy gray computer from about ten years ago took up the middle of the room, and off to the right was a ratty old brown couch with windmills on it.
“No!” I went the whole way across the room and glanced along the wood-paneled wall, feeling stupid. I’d trapped myself like a rat. I turned and pressed my back to the wall as the door slapped open. Black stomped in and slammed the door closed behind himself. Sweat gleamed on his thickly muscled chest, and I’d never felt more like a featherweight in my life.
I almost swallowed my tongue when he reached back and a lock clicked on the door.
“Let me go, man. I didn’t see shit. I don’t want to know shit, just let me go,” I babbled as he strolled across the room, his long legs eating up the space between us. I brought my fists up as he got closer, but he only shook his head and laughed at me.
“Trevor told me you’re one of the best street fighters he’s ever seen. You’re scrappy and people always underestimate you, and you’re great for the betting.Viciouswas used to describe you more than once.” Black crossed his arms, and I was feeling kind of stupid standing at the ready, so I lowered my fists.
“Yeah, I like fighting. I’m not a fucking Nazi, though, dude.” I ran my hands along the sides of my head and shivered. “I’m not like that.”
Black snickered, and I cringed at what should have been a pleasant sound. He had a rotten incisor he flashed with his amusement, and I focused on that for a second. It was brown and unhappy looking, and for what it was worth, it meant he was breakable. If that tooth could give, something else might, and I had a chance if I needed to get out of here—maybe.
“You said that one guy out there… he was gay, right? He’s getting sliced and diced for that shit. That ain’t right. All he’s doing is fucking. Who cares?” I winced. Probably shouldn’t have said that, but I was well past controlling my mouth.
The big man snorted and backed off a step, but I didn’t feel better. I wouldn’t until I could go home, bleach my brain, and forget this night ever fucking happened. Assuming I got out of here alive. My body shook violently, and I tried to hold my fear at bay.
“These men need someone to hate. Keeps them moving.” He stepped forward faster than I could dart away and grabbed my shirt. I punched him, but my fist didn’t seem to do a fucking thing where I connected with the firm muscles of his stomach. He grinned and dragged me toward the desk in the middle of the room. I cursed and swore, but when I went to my knees, he just hauled me forward anyway. There was a tearing sound and the cloth gave a bit.
“Let me go.”
“Quiet. Now.”
He hauled me upright, turned us, and shoved me. I ended up forced against the wooden ledge of the desktop. My choices were to sit or be at a weirdly uncomfortable angle, so I sank to my ass, pushing aside a keyboard for the computer. Black didn’t back off, his massive body a wall in front of me, and my hands shook where I gripped the edge of the desk.
“What do you get out of them hating people?” I mumbled.
He studied me in a way that made me uncomfortable because it was how I’d hoped Trev would look at me later tonight. There was heat there that had me leaning away from him. “Money. They cook up schemes, I get a chunk of the cash. Hell, they donate half their paychecks to my cause, and I spend it on anything I fucking want. They’re happy as pigs in shit just feeling like they’re spreading their message, not even seeing anything come from it.” He shoved me, but not as hard as I’d thought he might. I blinked and kept my gaze locked with his while I tried to stop cowering. “Why did the cocksucker bother you and not the other two?” He tilted his head. “Trevor said some things. Wondered if he was letting his imagination get away with him. Seems fucking strange that a guy Trevor callsviciouswould be sniffing after cock.”
I slid my hand over and grabbed the keyboard, ready to try to use it as a weapon. “No. I mean yes. Fuck, they all bothered me. That, out there, every bit of it fucking bothered me. That’s not a fucking fight. That’s a massacre. Where’s the honor in that?”
I tried to shove Black off me, but he pushed me back down onto the desk. He put both hands on my shoulders and positioned me so that my feet were dangling about an inch off the floor and his knees were pinning mine wide. The computer monitor fell off the other side of the desk, and I winced at the crash, though he didn’t so much as twitch.
