Since the candy warehouse was ruined for us, we’re underground in an old car park located near the 401 that’s been out of service for ages. I don’t think it’s structurally sound enough for us to be down here, but then again, none of us care if the concrete decides to crumble around us.
I bob and weave until he hits me with a corkscrew across my jaw. It knocks me back. I thankfully catch myself, but I don’t miss the sting that spreads over my face. He grins at me, the sadistic fuck, and when he pulls his hands back up to protect his face, I find blood on his knuckles.Myblood.
It lights a fire under me, and I go at him hard, psyching him out so I can hit him with a cross, but if I’m being honest, my head is spinning. A dizziness takes over, and it’s all I can do to stay on my feet until he ends the fight with a haymaker. It’s a wild one, but I see it coming. I don’t react fast enough.
I fall flat on my back, the cold, wet concrete soaking my clothes from the last rain we had. Even with coverage, it still managed to get inside the parking garage. I thought it’d be smart to dress in moveable sweats and a basic tee, but I regret it the more the fabric absorbs the water and soaks my skin. I’m overheating so I might not care a ton now, but when I come down from the adrenaline, it’s going to suck.
The crowd circling us screams, yelling like a bunch of banshees. It never gets old, hearing the chants and clapping. It’s not right. Fucked up beyond a reasonable doubt, but I can’t say I don’t use it to motivate me.
My contender raises a fist and spits. It lands on the ground next to me. My jaw clenches. I’m not about to get up, breakThe Battleground rules, and challenge him, so I act like it didn’t happen.
My body thrums from the ass beating he doled out, but I take my loss for what it is. I don’t cower but push up on my hands and knees and get to my feet. I push through a section of the crowd when they part and make it over to the side where Tommy and his other fighters stand. There aren’t separate rooms to hide away in out here.
“Couldn’t take him?” Remy chuckles and shakes his head at me. “Maybe next time, Pretty Boy.” When he tries to ruffle my hair, I shove his hand away and seek out my bag. I crouch to the ground and pull out the small medic container I keep there for situations like this. I pour alcohol on a clean towelette and smooth it against the cut at the corner of my mouth until I can clean it better when I get home.
The rubbing alcohol only enhances the sting. I grit my teeth against it until it fades away then toss it back into my bag and pull my hoodie over my damp shirt.
A closed fist comes into vision, and when I look up, I see Eli. I knock my knuckles against his. “That looked tough.”
The same irritation I felt during the fight comes over me. “It was bullshit. That guy was twice my size.”
“I wouldn’t say he was that big, but definitely out of your weight class.”
My eyes move to my boss about forty feet away. His attention is focused on the next fight about to start. We’ve been moving through the rounds quickly. Probably because we’re not in closed quarters. Best thing to do is get through our matches before anyone gets wind that we’re down here.
Eli catches my line of sight. “I’d be careful if I were you.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Why? He could’ve given me a heads up.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the kind of dude he is. Is what it is, bro.” He clasps his hand on my shoulder. “You alright, though?”
I’m suddenly aggravated over the fact that he doesn’t seem to care. In a way, Tommy did me dirty. If he makes a promise, he should learn to keep it. The way none of the other guys seem to care or notice? It’s uncanny and makes me think of Finn yet again.
“I’m good.”
“You ran out on me fast last night.”
“What the hell do you care?” I grind out, not liking the way he switches the topic.
He raises his palms in surrender. “Just sharing an observation.”
I clear my throat, guilt and irritation swirling inside me. “I told you I had somewhere to be.”
“Yeah, okay. No problem, man. Just checking in with you.”
“I don’t need a check-in,” I spit at him. “I’m fine.”
He nods and eyes me warily, as if he doesn’t believe me. I don’t give a shit if he does. Not when I’m reeling over this fight and how it felt an awful lot like I was blindsided. My eyes cut to Tommy once more. As much as I try to block out the volume of the people around, my body vibrates with their chants and chatter.
The end of the night comes quickly. In an hour the ball is going to drop, and I’ll be rolling into the new year with the shit of the last few months trailing behind me like a caboose. And yet all I care about is the moment everyone breaks apart and the crowd starts following the road back above ground. I’ve been waiting for this moment all night. For the chance to figure out what the hell tonight’s fight was about.
When we’re called over to collect our winnings, I know I’m walking away empty-handed. I lost fair and square. I may be salty over Bigfoot, but that’s what happens when you have theadvantage, and he had it on me. He had the size, the strength, and me being off guard.
So, for that, cool.
For Tommy pulling a fast one on me, not cool.
I’m mixed in with a group of guys. Remy is to my left, running his mouth like always. He was one of the first fights of the night and pulled off his win before the third round started. Tommy calls his name and Remy’s smile is the size of a canoe. Cold hard cash is slapped in his hand. “Thank you very much,” sings Remy as he strides away, a pep in his step even though we all know he’s going to blow it at the closest casino he can find.
