He shook his head and pointed as a roar of approval went up. Two men in white polos hadn’t even finished dragging the bloody mess that was the loser of the last fight out of the ring, but Fallon vaulted over the ropes with one hand on a support pole, landing inside. He looked damned good in a pair of shiny green shorts, and I was surprised to see he was barefoot. He had his hands over his head, and feet stomped in the crowd. His insulin pump was missing, but there was a small bandage over the spot where it had been hooked to his body earlier.
I bit my lip. I couldn’t get over the noise. It ripped at my skull. He pivoted and danced around, playing to the audience. His beautiful hair was in a ponytail and I worried about that, but surely if it was an issue he would have cut it. I felt stupid for being afraid. His muscles were defined even at a distance, and his blond hair glowed in the overhead lights like he was a vengeful archangel.
My heart hammered harder and my gut warmed.
Mr. Uhlig laughed and leaned close. “Stay here. Let him see you. Be a good boy and support your man.” There was something mocking in his tone, and I scowled at him, but I couldn’t keep my gaze from darting back to Fallon.
On the other side of the ring a tall boy with dark hair, who looked horribly young compared to Fallon, came out to cheers and chanting. He had muscle, but Fallon was easily twice as solid. “Knockout Boy! He’s my fucking favorite,” the woman Mr. Uhlig had called Red shouted with a grin.
“Oh, I’m dating the other one,” I said, pointing without thinking, and she smacked my arm and laughed.
“Well, then I’m guessing he’s your favorite.”
“Yes,” I said and my face heated.
Fallon walked around the ring gesturing at the crowd to give him more—of what I wasn’t sure—but they yelled louder. Feet stamped. He stopped when he got to the side of the ring where I was seated, and his mouth fell open as he focused on me. I could see the moment he realized I was alone because he glanced all around as if checking for the others. I shook my head at him and tried to clap, but his shoulders fell and he backed away from the ropes with his fists at his sides, staring out into the crowd.
“No, don’t worry about me,” I whispered, slapping a hand to my face. “Hell.” Had Mr. Uhlig done this on purpose to get to Fallon?
Mr. Uhlig slapped my knee, then bounded down from the platform. It took him less than a minute to gracefully make his way into the ring. He had a microphone with him. The sound as people cheered and screamed was absolutely deafening and got worse as he beamed at the audience. After far too long, he held up a hand and actually got something close to silence. “There are no technical wins in our ring.”
The boom of the positive response had me putting my hands to my ears.
“Wins are by knockout—” He gestured at the dark-haired boy in the ring and the crowd responded with a roar. “—or by incapacitation.”
Fallon walked over to my side of the ring and blew me a kiss. The woman beside me laughed and smiled at me, but I was too nervous to make conversation. I wrung my hands together between my knees and could barely move. Fallon stood there glancing around again, and I knew without a doubt he was worried when he shook his head and lifted his shoulders almost as though he was asking what was going on. I could say nothing, so I only raised a shaking hand to blow a kiss back to him, which at least got him to turn around and track his opponent.
A buzzer sounded and Mr. Uhlig hurried out of the ring. The other man raced toward Fallon, who did not look at all like he was prepared for the move. The Knockout Boy threw a solid punch. I rocked back against my seat with a hand over my mouth at how hard Fallon’s head turned, but he didn’t go down, simply danced out of range of the next lightning-quick jab the boy threw. They pivoted and drove each other so fast around the ring the activity was nearly a blur.
Fallon threw an elbow at the boy’s head, and I swore I heard the impact of bone on bone as the other man winced and backed up. He shook his head and flipped Fallon off, doing a lap around the ring as if to show he wasn’t injured at all. There were screams of encouragement and yells and the energy in the room boiled around me. I rested a hand to my stomach because I thought I was about to be sick for a moment.
Red stood up and cupped her hands around her mouth. “You nail his ass to the floor, Hendrix! Kick it all the way back to New York City!” She turned and seemed to notice me. “Sorry, hon. But you gotta support the hometown boy, you know?” She laughed and sat down again like this was all good fun, and I nearly threw up when Fallon took a knee to the gut that doubled him over. When had the boy gotten so close to him?
The fight went on forever, though it probably wasn’t more than a few minutes. The crowd roared the entire time. Fallon and the boy traded blow after blow. Outside the ring a skinny man in orange shorts and a black tank top walked around aiming a large video camera, clearly trying to get good angles on the action. Fallon and the boy moved so fast it seemed like it was all the cameraman could do to keep up with them, and his hair was soaked through with sweat.
“What’s he doing?” I asked Red, pointing at the camera.
She laughed and leaned closer, bringing a strong whiff of sultry perfume to my nose. “It’s so people betting at the casino can watch the fight. They’ve got a nice lounge there with drinks. Anyone who can’t get in here can go there and bet.” She smiled at me. “It’s a good time. Oh shit, here we go. Game-ender. Do it, Hendrix!” She was on her feet bellowing again, and I shifted my attention back to the ring.
My stomach turned. The boy had somehow gotten Fallon on the floor while I wasn’t watching. He was crouched over Fallon. The boy jerked his body and twisted one of Fallon’s arms between his legs. The grimace that passed across Fallon’s face had my heart lurching.
“That’s a good arm bar!” Red said, smacking my shoulder as if I should be excited. “Holy shit, this is a good fight.”
The boy on top of Fallon turned his entire body so he was facing the other direction, and there was a snap that had me tossing myself back in my seat so hard my shoulders ached. Red slapped her hands to her head and gave me wide eyes. Fallon bellowed out a pained shout and slapped at the ring floor with his fist.
The boy sprang to his feet, hands in the air. Chaos erupted. I jumped up and scrambled down from the platform across the small aisle to the ring and grasped onto the floor to climb up. Someone grabbed my middle, and when I looked back it was Mr. Uhlig. I kicked, but he dragged me down until he was holding me in a bear hug.
“Stop. Stop. The ref has to call it. You can’t go up yet. No. Boy, are you insane?” He sounded frantic, nothing like the man from earlier.
“He’s hurt! I don’t care.”
He shook his head when I glared up and back into his face, and he gave me a sympathetic frown. “You absolutely can’t go in there. Someone will fucking kill you if they decide you kept him from getting back up and they bet on him. Don’t you understand what is going on here?” He physically turned me to see the crowd, and I fought with him because all I wanted to do was get to Fallon. “People think I’m dangerous. And I am, but... look at them.” Everyone was on their feet shouting and all eyes were directed to the ring. I recoiled against him and stopped straining.
Breathing heavily, I waited until a man in a white shirt and black shorts went to Fallon, who nodded, and that man raised his hand in the air. It was like a bomb went off. There were cheers and boos. Mr. Uhlig let his hands drop to his sides and nodded at me. I scrambled back up to the edge of the ring and under the ropes. Fallon let out a groan when I got to his side, but crazily he wassmiling. He reached back and pulled the hair tie from around his ponytail and leaned up to shake his head. His hair spread out around him like a golden halo on the bloodstained ring floor.
“It wasn’t bad, right? I did good?” He grinned. His right eye was already swelling shut. I went to my knees and touched his cheek with a shaking hand, not even sure where to begin.
“Your arm? Is it broken?”
