by Emilia Finn
“Get me a Coke?”
“Kiss my ass,” she scoffs. “Get your own damn Coke. Oh wait, you can’t. Because you’re the executive in charge of the clicker.” Her blonde ringlets bounce when she laughs. “Super professional title you got there, Little Jimmy.”
“I didn’t ask for this job.” I grab her arm and yank her back when she turns to walk away. “Smalls, I didn’t ask to be the clicker.”
Turning serious, her lips transform from a smartass sneer into something much kinder. Because that’s who she is; abrasive and mean on the outside, but deep in there somewhere is a heart as pure and kind as they come. “It’s all hands on deck today. Help me out? I’ll come out in a bit to take over, and you can get something to eat.”
“You’re lucky I love you.”
“I really am.” She steps in for a fast side hug so her hair tickles my nose. “Truly I am. This week will be wild. I’m going to be crazy busy, so I’ll probably forget to say please and thank you.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
I lift my clicker when a group of fighters approaches my family’s gym. Five people, five clicks, and when they pass, I turn back to my cousin. “It’s fine. Go do what you have to do. I’ll be here. But send out a sandwich before I die of hunger.”
She rolls her eyes and steps away. “We literally had breakfast three minutes ago.”
“Yeah, well, I was still hungry when Aunt Kit took my plate away. You know we need extra food, Smalls. You know what it’s like to be hangry.”
“I’ll send out a sandwich. Oh shit, I have to go.” She waves when my Uncle Aiden – her dad – steps out of the gym. “I have to go do some stuff with Biggie, but I’ll be back. Shit’s about to get busy, so stay sharp.”
“Reflexes of a cat.” I make ridiculous ninja noises, like those in low budget karate movies. “Stealth of a viper.”
“Sense of humor of a slug,” she tosses back. “Just click the thing, and I’ll pay you in food.”
“You know my kryptonite.” I click some more when three new fighters wander forward.
Today is weigh-in day for the first ever Stacked Deck tournament. The gym behind me belongs to my family – to my dad and his brothers, to my mom and my aunts. Fighters and champions, loyal and badass. My daddy was once a world title holder. The real kind of title, with the real kind of fame that goes with it. My mom was a fighter too, the badass kind who takes no one’s nonsense. Two of my uncles held titles. And Evie’s boyfriend is the current world champion… although his title is kind of nullified now that he’s stepping into our tournament and not the one on the television.
Ben Conner forfeited his endorsement deals and paid a few fines, because to walk away meant breaking a few contracts. Not only did he lose out on millions by switching his allegiance, but he had to pay hundreds of thousands to get the pleasure of walking.
But we’re about loyalty around here; not to a corporation or money, but to family.
Evie started a tournament, which means Ben was following.
And because Evie and Ben were committed, and along with them, my sister and the guy she won’t admit is her boyfriend, we all follow.
Lucy is only a year older than me, she’s shorter than me, but she’s no one’s wallflower. She has her own championship wins already, her own fighter fanbase.
What can I say? Fighting runs in our blood. So when those four made a decision, the decision was made for the whole family.
Which is how I’ve become the starving executive in charge of clicking.
For hours, I eat and click, sip soda and click, smile when my friends and family walk through and tease my job title, hug my mom when she steps forward and accepts her click, and then I prepare for the onslaught. Because though we’ve had people walk in and out all day, it’s not until a little after noon that the true crowd arrives.
“Are you gonna let us in?” A dude with bottle-red hair and enough metal in his face to get himself arrested at customs tries to bully his way inside. “Kid, you’re gonna wanna step aside. If you don’t, I’ll remove you.”
“Motherfucker,” I snap when my patience runs thin. “Just because you’re old doesn’t make me a kid. Step down, find your respect, then wait outside with everyone else. Smalls said she’ll be out to talk soon.”
“What the fuck is a smalls?” he smarts. “I wanna see a Kincaid, and seeing as you’re nothing more than a door bitch, I’m gonna need to speak to someone with a little more authority.”
“This door bitch can lay you out in a second flat.” Evie steps up beside me and folds her arms. “He’s also a Kincaid and has whatever authority around here that I do.”
Metal-Face’s eyes flip to me. “Kincaid?”
“Wanna redact your bitching now?” I pop off, because being a loudmouth also runs in the family. “If you’d prefer, we can go inside and step into the octagon. I’ll show you what I was taught before I was outta diapers.”
“Fuckin’ Kincaid,” he groans. “I meant no disrespect.”
“Don’t back down now.” I step forward until our chests meet. “You treat the waiter the way you treat the manager. I’m just a door bitch. Not a Kincaid. Not management. Wanna spar?”
“Jamie.” Evie grabs my arm and tugs me back. “No fighting before the weigh-in. No fighting at all for you, or Aunt Iz will kill me.”
“Iz Kincaid?” The guy’s eyes grow bigger. “Fuck me.”
“No thanks.” I press a hand to his broad chest and shove him away. “Back up thirty steps. Start again. Bring your fucking respect, then I’m still not gonna let you in, because we don’t accept disrespectful pricks around here.”
“Jamie!” Smalls grabs my arm as Metal-Face and his posse backs away. “You aren’t even fighting this year! You need to stop with the attitude.”
“I don’t care that I’m not on the card. I’m not a eunuch, so if he wants to step up, I’ll oblige him.”
“Yeah, and if you do that, we’re all gonna get grounded.”
That sounds so strange, because it’s not like we’re kids anymore. I don’t remember the last time Evie was grounded.
“Quit it,” she continues. “He squares up again, you lock it down and pass him onto me. I’ll take care of it.”
“Make it so he and I meet in the draw next year.”
“Oh please.” She accepts a clipboard from my sister when she steps into our little huddle. “He’s clearly a heavyweight.”
“I can bulk up. For him, I’d bulk up.”
“Let Ben take care of him,” she counters. “You can stay in the middleweights and fight Mac to defend Bean’s honor.”
“Shut up,” Bean – aka Lucy, aka my sister – snaps. “Stop talking about me.” Then she looks to me. “And if you’re fighting out here, you’re gonna get busted down to wiping the machines.”
“I’m not fighting,” I lie… sort of. I didn’t get into a fight… yet. “Dude just wanted to talk to management, so I offered my time.”
“Lies. Smalls, we need to get ready. They’re arriving.”
“I told them what time I’d speak,” she brushes our growing crowd off. “I’m not doing shit until then.”
“Yeah, well, they’re getting here early, because god forbid they miss out on something fun.” Bean turns to me. “We’re sending them all outside. Make them hang out here for a bit until the rest arrive, then Smalls will talk.”
“I’ve got it under control. Send ‘em my way. I’ll make them behave.”
She only rolls her eyes. “Heather’s looking for you too.”
“Yeah?” I think of my sweet friend and let my grin creep up. “She knows where I am.”
“Taylor’s also here.”
Aaaand my smile is wiped clean. “Oh damn.”
Smalls throws her head back and laughs. “Being a slut will always catch up to you, Little Jimmy. You got two girls at the same time, and now they’re both here.”
“Make that three.” Bean nods toward Arian as she shyly crosses the blackto
p. “You’re gonna be the reason we have to break up a brawl.”
“I’ve got it under control.” I don’t have shit under control! “Uh…” My eyes lock onto Arian’s from thirty feet way. “Keep Heather and Taylor separated inside. Give me ten to work on Arian, then send the next one out.”
“Then the next?” Smalls lifts a brow. “Really? This is how Stacked Deck is gonna be remembered?”
“Just don’t put them all together,” I rush out. “Seriously, don’t be the reason I die today.”
“You’re gonna die when Mom finds out,” Bean tut-tuts. “Being a whore doesn’t run in the family, ya know?”
“I’m not a whore,” I argue on a whisper. Lord help me if Arian hears. “It’s called keeping my options open.”
“No, it’s called STDs,” Smalls counters. “And now I feel icky. We ate from the same bag of chips yesterday. I feel itchy.” She starts scratching her arm. “Bean, I think he gave me a rash.”
Laughing, my sister only drags our cousin away as Arian stops in front of me with a sweet smile. “Hey.” I cast the world’s fastest glance around to make sure we’re clear, then I lean forward and press a kiss to her blushing cheek. “You look pretty today. What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to come watch.”
She leaves her hands sort of in the space between us. Not fully out there, but enough that I should probably grab them and pull her in for a hug. But I don’t fancy dying today, so I dig my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels.
“Looks like there are loads of people already here,” she says. “It’s gonna be busy.”
“Yeah, Smalls has got me on the door to make sure we don’t break fire regulations or some shit.” In my peripherals, blonde hair winks just a second before my eyes lock onto Taylor. “So, listen,” I rush out when she turns in our direction. “I’m kinda working right now. But do you wanna hang out later?”
“Later?”
“Sure. I can give you a call when I’m done here, we can go for a drive to the lake or something.”
“But it’s so cold.” Her words are a denial. But her eyes say something else entirely.
“The colder it is, the more we’ll have to hug.” I wink – because apparently I’m a wanker now – and reach out to move her along. “You better get going before the crowd gets rowdy and start shoving, but I’ll call you in a few.”
“Promise?” She turns back, despite my insistent hands. “You’ll call?”
“I always do.” I press a hand to the small of her back and jockey her along. “Give me a few hours, then I’ll hit you up. Promise.”
The very second she’s swallowed by the growing crowd, I turn to find Taylor ten feet away, so I smile my most Kincaid smile and lift my chin in summons. “Hey, cutie.” I take her hand and pull her in to press a kiss to her cheek. I swear I’m not a complete douchebag. I swear, I swear, I swear. “You look pretty. What’s the occasion?”
“My boyfriend’s family is hosting a tournament, that’s what.” She steps back to flat feet after hugging me, but stays close enough our hips touch. “This is so exciting, huh? It’s getting busy.”
“Uh huh. I didn’t see you come in. Smalls told me you were here.”
“I came around the back way.” The entrance I’ve led her through a dozen times already. Dammit, Jamie! “I figured you’d be inside,” she continues. “If I’d known, I’d have come around this way.”
“Are you staying for the weigh-in? There are no fights today.” Please leave. Please leave. Please leave. “Just meatheads standing on scales and hoping they stayed the right weight.”
“No, I have to work at Dixie’s this afternoon, so I have to go soon.”
Slam fucking dunk! “Oh no!” I squeeze her hand, and chant in my head, I swear I’m not a douche. “That totally sucks. I wish you could stay.”
“I’ll try to come to the fights next weekend.”
“Oh…” I pause for dramatic effect. “You don’t have tickets yet?”
Her brows wing up. “Huh?”
“It’s a ticketed event, babe. And it was sold out the day they went on sale.”
“Oh…” She drops back with a forlorn expression. “Damn. I figured, what with you being my boyfriend and all—”
I’m not your boyfriend! “Sorry.” At least I have the common decency to feel bad. “It’s not about who you know, it’s about bodies through the door, and we’re way over capacity already.”
“Oh, well…” She tries to shake it off. “That’s okay, I guess. I’ll hang around here for a minute, but then I have to work. Can I call you after I clock out at the parlor?”
“Sure.”
I stand taller when a dude with shoulders as wide as a fucking barn door crosses the parking lot and heads in my direction.
“Listen. I have to work, okay?” Doucheyness aside, I take Taylor’s arm and pull her back to stand behind me when this dude stops six feet away. He looks like a damn criminal. Buzzed hair except for the slightly longer bit at the front, blue eyes, and a butt dimple on his chin.
I lift my clicker and wait for his eyes. “We’re not accepting fighters inside yet.”
He looks down at me, stops on my clicker, then my chest, then he looks back up and nods. “I’m at the right place?”
“Well… that depends on what place you’re looking for, bud. If you’re looking for ice cream, that ain’t here.”
“Ha.” His voice is deep, rumbling, as his jaw grinds back and forth.
The guy from earlier, the one fixing for a fight, was about this guy’s age. Mid-twenties or so. But the one from earlier didn’t have death in his eyes like this one does. He was a loudmouth pussy. This one… looks like he wouldn’t be sorry if he broke my neck.
“I’m looking for Stacked Deck.”
“Heavyweight?”
He inclines his chin. “Planning to take the title and the prize money.”
“With a gun, or your fists?”
He stands a little easier, a little friendlier, and cracks the tiniest smile. “With my fists. I’m all about the sport.”
“I feel like I don’t believe you.”
“Jamie!”
I turn at my mom’s snapped voice, only to grab her hand and try – the operative word is try, since no one forces my mom to do shit if she doesn’t wanna – to push her to stand with Taylor.
Isabelle Kincaid is a fighter from way back. An OG brawler from back in the day. She might be a girl, and she might be shorter than me, but she’s a street kid at heart, a poor kid that knows true hunger and fear.
She steps around me, around my clicking hand, and tilts her head to the side while she studies the thug. “Hi there. You look like a heavyweight.”
He tips his chin and offers a hand after Mom does first. They shake, and though his hand is as big as her head, he’s gentle enough not to make me homicidal. “Ma’am. You’re Izzy Kincaid.”
“I sure am. How could you tell?”
“I grew up watching you on the TV.”
“You know what?” I step around my mom and take his hand. “Hi. Like I said, we aren’t letting fighters in yet.”
“You’re a Kincaid too.” He nods over my shoulder. “I didn’t see it till I saw her.”
“What do you think you see, Bubba?”
“Same hair, same eyes.” He pauses before freeing a small grin. “Same lips.”
“You’re looking at my lips?” I sneer. “Motherfucker, I don’t swing your way.”
He releases my hand with a huff and digs his into his pockets. “I was looking at her lips. You just happen to have the same ones.”
“Don’t look at her lips either! That’s my fuckin’ mom.”
“My name’s William Quinn,” he adds with a wicked smirk. “I’m a heavyweight, and I’m looking to compete in your tournament this year.”
“Stacked Deck doesn’t take walk-ins,” I tell him. “Sorry, but unless you submitted a form already, and sent your medical—”
“Did.” He
whips a sheet of paper from his back pocket and holds it up between us. “I submitted my form, I got my medical certificate, and, uh,” he hesitates, “was granted clemency on the entry fee. I got an email a while back about how my fees were comped.”
“You got a Pay-It-Forward grant?”
His jaw clenches so his cheeks hollow out. “I appreciate the opportunity I’ve been given. I’m here to fight fair, but I fully intend to win, so I hope there won’t be any hard feelings when it’s done.”
“My friend is in your division.”
“Jamie.” Mom shakes her head. “Stop it. William.” She looks to him and smiles. “Welcome to town, welcome to our gym, and welcome to our tournament. Evie is who you need to speak with. Not right now,” she adds when he turns away. “She’ll be out to talk to the fighters in a bit. But that’s who you’re looking for if you want answers.”
“Or Ben,” I volunteer. My heavyweight friend who will take the title this year.
“Jamie.” Mom pinches my hand. She fucking pinches me, like I’m five and being naughty at the store. But her eyes are still on Will. “Evie, Ben, Mac, or Bean. Those are your go-tos.”
“Bean?” His lips twitch with humor. But I don’t think shit is funny at all. “Bean is Lucy Kincaid, no?”
“Why the hell would you put her on his radar, Mom?”
“Your sister?” He grins. “Everyone knows who Bean is. She’s about as famous as Izzy.”
“You’re talking about the women in my life, asshole. You’d better cool it.”
“Jamie, you need to go inside before I beat your ass for swearing.”
“He’s talking about Bean, Mom!”
“And Bean is a big girl. She can look after herself.” She looks to William. “Stop taunting my son with his sister. He doesn’t like it.”
“So I should just taunt him with his mom?”
She laughs. She laughs! “You’re gonna make friends fast. Go make yourself busy for an hour, then come back here and meet his cousin. Jamie’s protective of her too.”