I stood in my stance, taking a step toward him, walking him back to the center. Stray looked at Hank. Hank just shrugged it off, waving him to continue. Out of the corner of my eye, Dillon came out, standing near one of the corners of the ring, leaning on one of the ropes.
“I thought about having another fight night,” I said, giving the surprise element. Stray stood up straight, giving me the opportunity to play a little dirty and right hook his chin. He left his guard down and with a grunt, he staggered back.
“What the fuck you mean you having another fight night?” Stray huffed out.
“Exactly what I said. What if I was the headliner and we charge double for admission and up the fee for the gamblers?” I spewed off lunging forward to Stray, tossing out a few combos, but then being blocked by him. I tried moving to the side, but Stray took that opportunity to throw a hit to my side, knocking me back a couple of steps. I dug into the floor, steadying my body.
“Last time you fought, was what? Six years ago?” Hank asked, his attention fully on me.
“Yeah and?” I huffed out, bobbing from Stray’s offensive combinations. Stray had been an accomplished fighter back in the day, fighting him was what anyone needed to feel like they could win. At that moment, I wasn’t doing well. He was fast with his hits, he knew where weakness laid, and anticipated every move. He almost backed me into a corner. Eventually he did. I had to find my opening.
“Well, judging by your stance and how well you’re doing right now, I don’t think that’s the best idea, my friend.” Hank chuckled deeply.
“I mean, give me a couple of weeks or so, and some time with this man, I’ll be back in winning shape,” I said, as the air in my lungs was failing me.
Fuck, I thought with the amount of fucking we did that my stamina would be up to speed.
“Tell me why you’re really doing this? Is this about the mafia folks? Everything has been fine.”
“No, it’s not about that,” I huffed out.
Stray took a step back, knowing that any more hits and I’d be on my knees and not in the pleasurable way. Sweat dripped down his face, “Then what’s this about.”
I had been dancing around telling the club the whole truth about Amelia, partially because it was going to be handled and mostly because Amelia already felt shit about this situation. I sighed, “Shit’s been going on with Amelia and that night shecame to the compound was just the tip of the iceberg. And I can’t sit by and let it happen. And she won’t let anyone else touch it, much less me and little by little she’s starting to accept it.”
“But not fast enough, right?” Stray asked.
I nodded. “One fight. One win. And it will be her freedom.”
Hank chimed in. “And who the fuck are you going to get to fight you?”
“I think we can help with that.” A deep voice from the front made us snap our heads to attention. There in the entrance of the gym stood a man with dark hair and a hungry look in his eye, tailored in a suit that probably cost a lot more than he’d admit. He walked in with two associates by his side. I had only one guess who the fuck that was and my blood started to boil.
“Who the fuck are you, gentlemen?” Hank’s southern drawl rang out.
“Someone of an interested party,” the man cooed. “Where are my manners, allow me to introduce myself. You can call me Franklin Abbott, member of the De Santo family.”
De Santo family. My eyes saw red, I was about to find the strength to end it once and for all. It was stupid of them to walk into our territory, and act like they were a friendly party. I straightened up, taking off my gloves, wanting to wring their necks before their very eyes.
“You looking for an early grave? ‘Cause buddy, we don’t mind doing a little digging,” I threatened.
“I’ve come with a business proposition. And it seems like we are on the same idea.” His lips curled a smile. There was a slight northern accent, faint but it was there. I looked past him and tried to recall why one of the associates looked vaguely familiar.
“Last time we checked, we’re not in the business of working alongside the mafia.” Stray said, hopping off the ring and walking toward the group.
“Mafia? Are we that obvious? You haven’t listened to the best part,” Franklin said, slowly looking past myself and Stray. I turned in that direction, seeing Dillon cower in the back. “You run a very tight fighting ring. My compliments. But it sounds like you’re in the market for a fighter and we’re in the market for a fight.”
“You just happen to have a fighter?” I said. “Nothing happens for no reason.”
“Yes, a young rookie. New to the family, well more like a second cousin once removed. But you get the idea.”
“Speak faster." I warned him.
“Now, Shooter, we wouldn't do anything with haste. I’d hate to send you home to your little nurse with bullet holes.” He threatened with a calm voice.
I rushed toward him but was stopped by Stray. “Watch what you say next.” I started to seethe with anger. Adrenaline pumped in my veins.
The mere mention of Amelia out of his prim and proper looking ass, and I was ready to unleash the monster inside and bathe in his warm blood.
