by Grace Hugh
Sammy sidles up next to me once more and my skin crawls because he’s close. He runs a finger down the bare skin of my arm and I jerk back from his touch. He laughs like it’s the most amusing thing he’s ever seen.
“You’ll get used to it,” he says, leaning in with his lips puckered.
I slap him. It’s not planned or thought out I just react. He touches the red mark on his face and smiles bigger as he moves his jaw back and forth.
“You are going to be so much fun,” he says then leans in so close he’s whispering in my ear. “I’m going to break you. I will do things to you that you can’t even begin to imagine. Before I’m done, you’ll beg me.”
“You’ll never have me,” I growl pushing him back.
He steps back and shakes his head.
“I like the fight,” he says grabbing his crotch. I’m disgusted to see his hard on through his pants gripped in his hand. “That’s the only point of sex. It’s like fighting with an orgasm to top it off.”
“Jans is going to kill you,” I hiss.
“Oh? You think?” he moves in close again. “Let’s just see what happens to your boy tonight.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, fear running down my spine with an icy touch.
Sammy smiles and shakes his head then waves a finger in front of my face.
“You’d like to know, stupid bitch,” he says. “I ain’t snitching but let’s say your boy, he ain’t likely to make the end of this shindig.”
I close with Sammy until his onion filled breath overwhelms me.
“If anything happens to Jans, I’ll make sure you pay for it.”
The crowd cheers outside the box and the rest of the men inside move to their seats. The room is filled with the blue haze of their cigars making everything seem surreal. Sammy and I stare at each other. Every ounce of me wants to slap that smirk off his face. I finally come to terms with the fact that the best thing I can do right now is nothing. Here, in this room, surrounded by these men, I have no options.
I take my seat and turn to watch Jans’ next fight. Sammy sits next to me chuckling. When he puts his hand on my thigh my muscles tense but I don’t move it away. I’m not going to play into his game.
Jans is already in the octagon and his opponent has just been announced as ‘the Tiger.’ This one’s a black man, lithe and well defined. He bounces on the soles of his feet pointing at Jans. The bruise on Jans’ shoulder looks worse. The blue and purple now edge towards black. I gasp looking at it. He’s holding the arm close to his side and I can only imagine how much it hurts. An ache in my chest pounds in time with my heart as I watch my man, my warrior, fighting for us. My love for him has no bounds.
The ref calls the two men to the center and then the fight is on. They circle, jabbing with feints and jabs. Jans doesn’t use his left, holding it tightly against his body. His opponent repeatedly feints and tries to get punches in on that side. Jans does a good job of protecting himself but still takes several hits and each one of them makes me wince in sympathetic pain.
They dance around each other longer than Jans would normally allow. He likes a fast take down. While I know his stamina can handle a longer match he's always told me why play around? He says every moment a fight continues is a moment your opponent can turn it around. No matter how good you are everyone can be surprised. It only takes one slip, one mistake to lose and Jans doesn't lose.
His opponent dances back when Jans swings and the punch goes wide leaving him open. The opportunity isn’t missed. The Tiger charges underneath Jans’ extended right arm and hooks his shoulder into his rib cage. He swings with his left arm hitting the wounded shoulder. Jans rocks back but as he steps his opponent is able to get his leg behind and drops him to the ground. Everybody in the box jumps to their feet and screams, the crowd is going wild. Jans is in serious trouble.
My stomach ties into a tight knot. Is this it? Will this be the time that he loses?
The two men struggle on top of each other. Jans tries to break free but his opponent keeps him pinned. I've seen this before but it's always been Jans on top. The minutes stretch into small eternities and I can't breathe. The two men are locked with each other, neither able to gain an edge. The darker man is on top and pounds repeatedly going after the wounded shoulder. Then somehow, in a move so fast I don't know how it happens, Jans breaks free of the hold and rolls, coming to his feet a short distance away. The Tiger doesn't give him time to recover, closing the distance immediately. Jans, somehow, is prepared and brings his knee up just as his opponent reaches him. The other man is bent low intending to take Jans in the gut again but Jans’ knee connects with his jaw. Jans then drops down bringing his elbow crashing into his opponent’s back. The man drops to the ground and doesn't move. Jans slowly rises to his feet then wobbles unsteadily.
The crowd is so loud that it makes my ears ring.
"Did you fucking see that!" someone in the booth with us yells.
"I can't fucking believe it," another man answers.
Sammy leans in close and whispers once more in my ear. "Just wait. It ain't over yet."
He grabs my breast and I push him away. He's a disgusting pig. When Jans gets a hold of him, he’ll pay for everything he's put me through tonight.
Jans is led from the ring. Thirty more minutes and then another fight. This is the one that everybody's been murmuring about. This is the one that Jans is supposed to throw. I look over and catch Vinnie staring at me with his cold, dead, empty eyes. Sammy slides his hand up my thigh and cups me at my middle. I shove him to one side hard and he almost falls out of his chair. Vinnie watches it all emotionless, so much for being the loving father, a role he was never suited for.
"This next fight is going to be interesting," Tony is saying to Vinnie.
"I heard this guy is an old pro," Vinnie responds.
"He's not an old pro," Tony says. "He's the reigning fucking world champion."
My stomach sinks over the top of a roller coaster. The entire room spins around me. Jans is already hurt and this is his fourth fight of the night. If he's going up against a pro, what chance does he have?
Fucking bastard kept going after my shoulder. The joy of underground fighting, there are no rules. Dr. Chris packs my arm in ice again after examining it.
"You want something for the pain?" he asks.
I stare at him. I can't let anything dull my edge. He shakes his head and holds his hands up.
"Hey, I'm just asking."
"Well, you can stop," I say.
He returns to attending to my shoulder and making sure the ice packs are in place. After he’s done I move over to the table and lay down to let my masseuse work on my muscles.
"I heard the next guy’s a real bitch," Dr. Chris says.
"What have you heard?" I ask.
"He’s the world champion from the pro circuit," he replies.
"That ain’t shit to me," I say.
"Yeah, but he’s a berserker."
"What's his name?" I ask.
"Ken Sharman," he replies.
"Are you shitting me?" I ask.
Ken Sharman is good but more than that he’s fucking crazy. I’m supposed to throw this fight but even if I’m trying to win, he might kill me.
"No. He killed a man when he was fighting underground," Dr. Chris says.
Fuck me. If I wasn’t injured, I wouldn’t worry if I could do this. The doc is right though, this guy’s an animal. I've seen him take a beating that would put any other man in a grave and he kept going. He won his last fight with his right arm broken in three places and his other shoulder dislocated. They want to me to fight the best and they found him. What the hell did they offer him to do this? I withdraw to my center and become the Dragon. The door opens and I glance up to see who's got the balls to come in and bother me. It’s just Lou.
"What the fuck do you want, Lou?" I ask.
He walks closer with that heavy, thudding step of his. He's too big and slow and right now I don't want his shit
because all his shit is Vinnie's mouth being run by another body.
"Boss wants me to check in," Lou says.
"Tell the boss to fuck off," I say.
"Boss wants to make sure you remember what happens," Lou says.
"Of course, I fucking remember."
Good," Lou says.
Lou is standing in the way of my masseuse and it’s pissing me off. I rise up to tell him to get the fuck away when something stabs me in my hip. It's a sharp momentary pain and I whirl and swing at Lou but he blocks it easily. Glancing down, there’s a syringe protruding from my side.
"The fuck did you do, Lou?"
"What the boss says," the big man replies.
Lou turns and plods out of the locker room without another word. I pull the syringe out and look at it. I don't feel high, or sick, or anything else. What the hell did they do to me? I look at Dr. Chris and he shakes his head holding his hands up again.
"I had no fucking idea," he says.
"What the fuck is it?"
"Enhancement drug?"
I can't tell what's going on in my body and it scares me. This is my finely honed tool, it does exactly what I tell it to, exactly when I want. Whatever Vinnie’s done, it’s slowing my reaction time. The muscles aren’t responding the way they should. There's a knock at the door and I'm given the one minute warning. Shit.
"I need something to counteract this," I yell.
"I don't know what the fuck it is," Dr. Chris says with panic in his voice.
"I don't either," I reply. "It's slowing me! Vinnie wants me to throw the fight. Whatever he just gave me is to make sure I lose."
"You’re fucking kidding me?"
"I don't have time, I need a fix now."
He grabs his bag and digs in it then pulls out a small vial and syringe.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Adrenaline," he says filling the syringe from the vial.
"Will it work?"
"No idea."
"It's time!" someone calls through the door.
Shit. "Do it," I order.
He stabs me high on my thigh. The point where he hits burns and then warmth spreads out. My heart starts beating faster and it feels like every sense is going into overdrive. I have to get this over with quick because this shit is going to jack my timing.
I don't walk to the octagon, I run. Let the crowd make of it what they will. I leap up the steps taking them two at a time and bounce to my corner. Ken emerges a few moments later and I study him with drug enhanced senses. I can smell him from here. I've got these few minutes to learn everything I can. It's the way he carries himself, his walk, where he keeps his hands, his eyes, all information I can use. He jogs down with his hands balled into fists and held up in front of him as he shadow boxes his way to the octagon. He’s a showboat, wants the attention of the crowd. I can use that against him. When a group of girls pull up their shirts and expose their breast he spends more than a second looking like he's trying to memorize their tits. More information. He climbs the steps into the octagon and I notice his left leg trembles. An old injury, weakness on that side, good, more I can use.
The ref calls us to the middle and gives us instructions. We touch wraps and I have to look up at him. He's got three inches on me and probably weighs forty pounds more than I do. I'm familiar with his fighting though and despite his size, he's fast. Probably as fast as I am which puts me at a disadvantage. As we touch gloves he growls.
"I'm going to rip your arm off and beat you with it," he says.
"Good luck," I reply returning to my corner.
We face each other and wait for the bell. He bounces, turning in a circle and raising his hands up and down to get the crowd on their feet. I watch quietly and silent. The bell rings and he has his back to me. I charge but he was ready for it. He dodges to one side but I expect it and swing with my right leg taking him hard in his left calf. I’m going after that old injury.
"How, you son of a bitch," he says.
"Welcome to my ring," I say.
We feint with each other as we dance. My only chance with this guy is to wear him out. He's violent and he likes to showboat but I've seen him fight and his stamina is not good. If I can outlast him, I win. He swings with his right and I dodge left, but he steps in and hooks his legs between mine. We crashed to the mat and he lands on top. As we fall he captures my left arm and goes for the arm bar. Pain explodes through me like a rocket taking off. My vision comes and goes in waves. I'm forced to turn in towards him opening myself for attack.
He's grappling and trying to get the hold but I'm covered with sweat. I feel my heart starting to pound harder and harder. The shot the medic gave me is starting to take effect. It feels like every muscle is vibrating. The pain no longer matters. The Dragon is about to roar. I push back, rising up onto my knees and he tries to hold the choke. I rock back into him just slightly, just barely pushing him off balance, subtle enough I'm hoping he won't notice until it's too late. He goes with me trying to lock his arm with his wrist.
I make my move.
I push off with the heels of my feet and flip myself up and over. It breaks his hold on me as I land behind him and now I've got him locked into a choke hold. I throw him over my hip then drop onto him with my knee landing in his solar plexus and forcing the air out of him. I drop my right elbow on to his face and blood explodes making him slick.
He rolls to the side and I scramble with him trying to get him in a hold. I can’t get a grip and he slides away. He rolls to his feet so I climb to mine, too. We face each other across the ring, each of us catching our breath.
“Going to fuck you up,” he breathes.
“Bring it,” I say, motioning him forward with my fingers.
He charges. I hold until the last moment then drop to my back and swing at his left knee with my right leg. I connect hard and hear it snap. He screams as he falls to the ground grabbing the destroyed knee.
I don’t give him time to recover. Leaping forward I land on top of him and pound his face while pinning his arms to his sides with my legs. I bombard him over and over. The Dragon is free and wants blood. Nobody stands against the Dragon.
Someone pulls me back. The bloody mess left before me doesn’t move. I’ve won.
"Did you see that!" somebody yells for like the millionth time.
Everybody's on their feet screaming, everybody that is except Vinnie and Sammy. I notice that Lou is gone, too. Jans was supposed to lose and I know Vinnie's pissed. Sammy looks at me.
"Nothing to say now?" I ask.
"Fuck you, bitch."
"What's the matter, Vinnie?" Big Tony asks. "That was a good fight, your boy did good. We all made a lot of money."
"Yeah, a lot of money," Vinnie replies.
Vinnie stands up and walks over to me. He grabs my arm roughly jerking me towards the door. Sammy watches amused and blows me a kiss as Vinnie pulls on me. In the small hallway outside the box Vinnie jerks my arm hard again throwing me up against the wall. He slams his hand next to my head and leans in close.
"Did you know about this?" he asks, his voice low and soft. A vein pulses in his forehead, sweat glistens, his eyes are wide and bloodshot.
"No," I say.
I'm being honest. I didn't know what Jans’ plan was but I do now. I know he bet on himself with all of the money he could get his hands on. He knew he'd win, that's my Jans.
"This is bad. Real bad."
"What do you mean Vinnie?"
"I don't have the pot!" Vinnie yells slamming his hand against the wall.
The door next to us opens and Tony steps out with his two bodyguards behind him.
"Something wrong out here, Vinnie?" Tony asks.
"No," he says glaring at me. "Just having to correct my daughter."
"Is that right?"
"It's what I fucking said, isn't it?"
"Why don't we go check on your boy?" Tony asks.
"I don't need your help to take care my family," Vinnie replies.
&nb
sp; "Well, that's real interesting," Tony says. "But I'm not asking. Let's go."
Vinnie looks like he's about to argue with Tony but the two men slide their hands inside their suit jackets. I glance around quickly trying to not move my head looking for Lou, but he’s not in sight. Vinnie never goes anywhere without Lou and this is probably why.
"Fine," Vinnie says and leads the way to the locker rooms. He grabs my arm and drags me along.
I don't mind because this means I get to see Jans. It doesn't take us long to make our way around the back path to the lockers. When we get to Jans’ door, two made guys stand outside it. They look at us as we approach and nobody smiles. Tony nods and one of them opens the door letting us in. Vinnie and I follow Tony with the two armed men behind us.
Jans is sitting on his prep table still in his shorts. His arm looks even worse than I thought. It's black and green and swelling. Three other men from the box are already in the room. I know them only casually from family gatherings and affairs. They’re the heads of the five Families. Several men in suits stand around the edges of the room and it’s easy to guess they’re all armed. Tony walks up to Jans and pats him on his leg.
"That was some fight kid," Tony says.
"Thanks," Jan says staring past Tony at me.
I want to run over and take him in my arms but the tension in the room is so high I'm afraid to move. I don't want to be the trigger that causes an all-out mob war.
"So, Vinnie, why don't you go and get us our money from the bookie?" Tony asks.
The other four bosses stare at Vinnie. I've never seen Vinnie scared before. Now his skin pales and sweat pours down his head.
"Sure," Vinnie says.
“Better yet, why don’t you ask Lou to do it for you?” Tony says.
“Like I know where the fuck Lou is,” Vinnie retorts.
“Oh, right, I forgot. Let me get him for you,” Tony says.
Tony snaps his fat fingers and the door to the locker room opens. Two men in suits walk in dragging Lou between them. He’s beaten to a bloody pulp and his head lolls loosely side to side. He looks up and his face is too swollen to speak, his lips move but no sound emerges.