by Nora Flite
Shit. Kaley.
Long legs, a body that could chew you up and spit you out... Kaley was beautiful. She also had a preference for rough hands and stamina. I owned both, and proudly. It helped that she tipped better than any of my other clients.
Lifting my eyes, dots of light spun as I adjusted back to the darkness. Searching down the road, I watched for Zoe. She still hadn't appeared. What was she doing?
What was I doing?
I loved fighting, that was a fact. In the past, it had been a great way to make money. But now... Zoe's twenty bucks wouldn't stretch far.
When I'd been younger, fighting on the streets had been common. People wanted to take what you had. If you weren't willing to shove back, you were a goner. Naturally, I found myself getting sucked into the sordid world of underground combat.
I'd told Zoe the truth; last night wasn't my first fight.
By age sixteen, I'd made a name for myself. People saw what I could do with my fists. Each new tattoo I added crafted an image that was raw. Tough. Not to be messed with.
New job opportunities blossomed before me.
Guarding my first hooker was simple, uneventful. She'd been the on again, off again girlfriend of a fellow fighter.
With time, I made more acquaintances. Fun women, perverse hobbies, they tempted me with it all. I fell into strip clubs and private parties. It had been a blinding rush of drugs and money and fun.
Things didn't change much until the night I played muscle for a high-end escort. She'd been beautiful, other-worldly. Once her client had left, she'd pulled me into the motel room, whispering to me that she needed someone to finish her off.
I'd been surprised...
But more than keen to help.
From there, the word spread. Women called me for reasons beyond protecting them. My body was sought for pleasure, and I was ready to indulge. Fighting was great, fucking was better.
Throw all the money I could need into the mix?
I was in heaven.
Lifting my phone, I stared at the text message again. Kaley would slide me a cool six hundred for an hour or so of my time. I usually gave extra, stretching the minutes out. It was nice to hear a woman telling me I was too much. Any form of begging turned me on.
It was a fun cycle.
Her, claiming she couldn't handle more. Me, getting rock-hard at her whimpers and pleas. Both of us always left happy. I had a reputation to keep.
Sighing, I scrunched my eyes shut. I promised Zoe already. It wasn't about the money. It was about my word.
With regret, I tapped the keys and stared at my message.
Huck: Sorry doll, but I'm booked for the night.
We'll get in touch soon.
Not wanting to see her response, I hit send and clicked the phone off, shoving it back in my jacket.
My ears caught the scratch of footsteps on dirt. Looking up, I spotted Zoe. In her green jacket, she jogged my way. The night stole the color from her eyes, but it deposited crimson in her cheeks. She was a woman on fire, that long hair streaming behind like a comet's trail.
My fingers cramped, eager to open up and embrace her.
Falling stars aren't meant to be held, though.
As she slowed beside me, clouds dancing around her perfect lips... she dared me to try.
Dared me to cradle her combustible existence.
Zoe held the power to burn me into ashes. All I had to do was touch her.
A death like this?
It would be fucking worth it.
“Sorry,” she said, catching her breath. “I hope you didn't wait long for me.”
“Not too long.” My smile went ear to ear. “Only an eternity.”
She'd been reaching for the back of my bike. Now, she pulled her arm away, a creature of doubt and suspicion. “Why would you say something like that?”
Guilt drove down into my guts. It was a tiny splinter, but sharp as a nail. Why had I said that?
To get a rise out of her.
Was that the real reason? She certainly thought so. I couldn't be sure, and dwelling on it was making me uncomfortable. “Easy now,” I mumbled. “I was just trying to lighten the mood.”
Weaving her fingers through her hair, Zoe offered me a tiny smile. “It's alright. I'm just a little tense. I really wish you'd gone and practiced today. I don't even know who you're up against tonight.”
Waving her onto the bike, I kicked it into gear. “I'll be fine. I'm actually excited.”
“You are?”
“Sure, it's been some time since I've had an excuse to shake the rust off of these muscles.”
Adjusting behind me, her jean-clad legs rubbed along my hips. “Not much call for combat when you strip your clothes off, huh?”
I chuckled and said, “The opposite. I fight off the hands of too-eager women all the damn time.”
Zoe laughed, and fuck, I ached to hear that sound forever.
Guiding us down the road, I took my time. I wanted to speak before the engine drowned us both out. “You seem happier tonight. I like that.”
I was ready for her to loosen her grip. Amazingly, she pressed her chest on me and didn't run. She mumbled, “For some reason, I feel... optimistic.”
Twisting, I tried to stare at her. I could see nothing but her red hair. “Optimistic?”
“Yeah.” Zoe's long, silky strands slid over my shoulder and rustled my cheek. “I don't know. For once, going to the fights tonight, things feel like they might be okay.” Her voice flitted, drifting in the wind and fading with my growing speed. “I'm probably just crazy.”
Crazy. Yes.
I could relate.
The alley was silent.
The basement was not.
Together, Zoe and I descended into the sweltering madness that was the underground fighting ring. “Does this place have a name?” I asked, eyeing the cracked, grey walls and faded paint dubiously.
“The Dog House,” Zoe said, not looking at me.
“Wonderful.” I grinned full force. “Does that make me your dog?”
She didn't respond, reaching out to stop me when we were halfway down the steps.
I pulled back, watching her while she scanned the crowd. “What's up?”
Those pretty pink lips scrunched together, copying her eyebrows. Finally, she let her hand fall away. “It's nothing. I was just looking for someone.”
Gently, I asked, “Was it Nehro?”
Taking me by the wrist, she pulled me towards the whiteboard across the room. “Yes and no. I always look for him, but right now I'm watching for Reese—my ex.” She added the last part as an uncomfortable afterthought. Tension ruled her eyes. “I don't know if he'll be here tonight. I'm hoping he won't.”
Battery acid filled my mouth. Even now, the shit-bag who had cheated on her was making her fret. I was burning with disgust.
Scanning the board, the sourness on my tongue grew sharper. Reaching out, I tapped my finger next to Reese's name. “Looks like he already fought. Half an hour ago, if this is right.”
“Whatever,” she grumbled. “Good. Fine. Guess he decided he was going to get back in the ring, just not for me. He can keep all the money for himself. I don't care what he does anymore. I don't need him.”
Gingerly, I set my hand on her shoulder. Zoe was shaking, the tremors making her eyelashes twitch. “You're right,” I said flatly. “You don't need him anymore. I'm here.”
I could see myself in her blue eyes, that was how wide they grew. “You're really sure that twenty bucks is fine?”
“It's more than enough.” Though, I admit, I was curious what she meant about Reese taking all the money now. “When he fought for you, he really got paid nothing? None of your payment to Nehro?”
Zoe sighed and said, “It was his idea. I wanted to give him some of it, he told me he was willing to make the sacrifice. I was grateful, really... it let me pay Nehro off faster.”
So many questions bubbled. “You've got me curious. How much are you making per figh
t, and how much do you owe that Nehro guy?”
Pointedly, she slid my hand off of her. “I don't want to tell you about my debt. It's personal stuff.”
Shrugging, I allowed myself to smile, even if it was forced. “All these secrets. You do know I'm here because I want to help you, right?”
I expected her to tighten up, to get flustered or bite at me with her words. In front of me, Zoe hung her head. I could never predict this fucking girl. “A thousand dollars,” she whispered.
“What?”
“That's how much Nehro takes off my debt after each fight.” Digging her toe into the ground, she watched me from under the fringe of her lashes. “Now you know. I suppose you'll want some of it after all, right? I can tell Nehro. He'll probably—”
My hand went up, silencing her. “No. Keep it. Twenty bucks, like I said.” If Zoe was chunking her debt down a thousand at a time, how much could she possibly owe this man?
And what was it for?
I didn't have the heart or the time to push her. Especially not when she was gracing me with a full on, lip-spread grin. Zoe was gorgeous, but when she was happy, she practically glowed.
“Thank you, Huxton. I really mean it.”
There was no denying it. Zoe was grateful for my help.
Grateful for me.
Blinking, I looked back at the board. “Does the other guy's name being scratched out mean Reese won?”
Zoe stood tall, grabbing a marker and scribbling my name on the shiny surface. I was across from some guy who went by 'Magnus.' “A name being scratched out means the other guy won, yeah.” She re-capped the marker violently. “Let's forget about Reese. The fighter you're up against is a small guy, I think you can take him.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I chuckled.
Her lips tilted up at an angle. “I'm pretty confident in you, Huck.”
“Only 'pretty' confident?”
“If you looked more like a fighter, I'd be very confident.” Brushing her hair back, she motioned over my outfit, my clear lack of gear.
Gripping my jacket zipper, I ground it downwards, handing the leather piece to Zoe. She took it, and unless I was wrong, she hugged it tight—gorged on the air around it. “Shirtless and jeans worked fine last night, didn't it?”
She rolled her eyes, went to speak... then trailed off. Her luminescent skin became old milk, even her lips faded in color.
Peering over my shoulder, I watched as two men approached. One of them I knew; Nehro was easy to recognize. I'd never met such an angular man before. He was lanky, but under the long, black latex trench-coat and mesh shirt, I could see the practiced ripple of lean muscle.
Nehro wasn't a weak man.
But the other guy, the one with the biggest, shit-eating grin I'd ever seen... he was huge. Toe to toe, I thought he'd have a fraction over me. Not much, but I was used to being the tallest man in the room.
I didn't know who he was. Zoe clearly did.
Glancing back to her, I noticed her digging her nails into my jacket. She didn't like this guy, and my intuition buzzed to life.
“Reese,” she said, confirming my suspicion.
This was her ex. Wonderful.
Tugging at his shirt, Reese eyed me up and down. “You must be Huxton, Zoe's new dog.”
I emulated how Reese had looked me over, exaggerating the motion; I'd already sized him up seconds ago. “Guess that makes you the one that ran with its tail between its legs, then.”
Black fury stretched over Reese's face. I reveled in it.
“Easy now,” Nehro said, stepping between us. His oily squint shifted from me to Reese, then to Zoe. “I see you convinced our friend here to come back for round two.”
I cleared my throat. “I insisted. I just had so much fun last night.” Smiling ear to ear, I winked at Zoe.
Amazingly, she smiled back at me. I loved when she did that. “Yeah. Huxton wanted to come back. I couldn't say no to him.”
Oh, how I wished that part was true. Zoe kept saying 'no' to me at every turn. Well, her voice did, the rest of her... Stay focused, I reminded myself.
Tilting his head, Reese snorted. “So you like to fight?”
“Sure do.”
Shrugging, he spoke while turning away. “Every newbie does, at the start. See how you feel after a few rounds of this.”
“Thanks for the advice, Pops,” I chirped. “Any more tips?”
With his jaw tighter than a lock and key, Reese glared from me to Zoe. “Yeah. Here's one more. Consider how much your time is worth.”
Next to me, Zoe hissed under her breath. Acid ruled her stare, she watched Reese all the way until he slipped out of view in the crowd. Giving in to my desire, I brushed my hand over hers. Then, I stared warily at Nehro. “Why are you still here, need something?”
Impervious to my scathing tone, he just chuckled. “I do. From you, as a matter of fact.” Motioning with his head to his office, he started walking. “You want to fight here, fine. Let's get the basics out of the way. Come with me.”
Peeking back at Zoe, I waited for her to nod. That time... her smile didn't reach her eyes. “It's nothing bad,” she assured me. “Nehro runs the Dog House, go listen to him. It's just rules and junk.”
I nodded and said, “Alright. I'll be back.”
Nehro led us to his door, and I saw that the nicest thing about this basement was his name on the glass. In long, jagged strokes, the letters stood out crisply, like they would on a movie star's door. Or a lawyer's, I thought, remembering Zoe's contract.
Was I about to sign one, too? The idea made me grit my molars.
“I won't keep you long,” he said, shuffling in the bottom drawer of a small, metal desk. “Your fight starts in five minutes. I'll go quick.”
“Quick?” I asked, stepping closer to where he was hunched.
“As in speaking quickly?” He tossed me a smug look, then faced away. “This place is mine. I own all of it.”
I said humorlessly, “Congratulations on owning a room where guys can kill each other for cash.”
“Not kill each other. Not normally, anyway.” He shoved some papers aside. “There are rules in the Dog House, Huxton. Not many, but we have them. Be on time, don't miss a fight, don't back down from a fight... and no weapons.”
Running my fingers through my scalp, I sighed. “Everything else goes, though?”
“Everything else goes. Whatever it takes to be the last man standing. There's no rounds, it goes until one guy can't fight or taps out.” Nehro straightened, offering me a pair of fingerless, slightly padded blue gloves. “Here, these will keep you from busting your hands up too badly. Don't want you getting so injured you can't keep fighting for our dear Zoe Lillith out there.”
Lillith. So that's her last name. It was pretty, and it fit her. I loathed that Nehro had been the one to reveal it to me.
Taking the gloves, I hefted them; they were good quality. “Why do you care if I get hurt or not?”
“More fights means more money for me.” Glancing up, he eyed the clock. “And for you. Come on, let's hurry up.”
Nehro slid around me, waving me back out into the basement. “Wait,” I said, following after him. “Money for me? What are you talking about?”
The bell dinged, the hush of the crowd growing into eager cheers. Nehro pointed at my gloves; I got the hint, starting to strap them on. In the ring, I saw the guy who had to be Magnus. He was lean, definitely smaller than me. Blonde as lemonade and bare of almost any ink.
Zoe's confidence that I'd win made a lot of sense, now.
Struggling through the bodies, I perched on the chalk outline with Nehro at my side. He was speaking, but the screams were making it hard to hear. “Money, as in what you get as a reward,” he said in my ear.
“I know what money is!”
“Then you know you want it. And I pay well for these fights. I have to,” he added, smiling crookedly. “No one would bother, otherwise.”
In my mind, Zoe's f
ace flashed. I looked for her across the way, trying to spot her among the flailing bodies. “What about Reese?” I asked, tightening the last strap on my gloves. “He fought for Zoe and didn't take a cent. Same as I plan to.”
Nehro stepped back, his brows smoothing into a placid stare. “If you thought he wasn't skimming off the top, you're wrong. He always claimed half.” Laughing, the lanky man spun away, heading for the edge of the ring. His last words threaded to me, somehow avoiding every bark or shout. “Take your cut of the grand. Risking your life for free... No one does that.”
Drums filled my skull. Everything was muffled, noise swirling until it was just a singular, ringing bell.
Reese was taking a cut of the pay.
Half of Zoe's money.
Even from a distance, I swear, Nehro was grinning at me—and only me. “Magnus versus Huxton! Betting is closed, folks. Standard rules, no weapons, and no mercy.”
No mercy.
Ding. The bell was louder than the one commanding my mind. It sank in, pulled me forward. Back into reality, back to where I was.
Back to who I was.
Nehro thought no one risked their life for free?
He didn't know anything about me.
Magnus was coming my way. Glancing at him, I lifted my chin and stared down Nehro. Violently, I ripped the gloves off that he'd given me. I threw them to the ground, kicked them aside.
Nehro arched an eyebrow, but that was all.
Whirling, I flexed my hands and moved towards Magnus. He was stunned, he must have thought I was insane. He looked like a lightweight boxer, I looked like a guy who'd come in off the street after attending a tattoo convention. Plus, I'd just thrown away my only real gear.
I didn't fucking care what anyone thought about me.
No one but her.
Magnus ducked, avoiding my first hit. I wasn't patient, not tonight. Rage was whispering in my ear and it was hungry for me to act. Following after the blonde, I loomed over him and watched his leg fly.
The kick was low, sharp—it'd leave a bruise on my thigh for sure. The crowd was barking again, a roar of madness.
Yes, that's right. We're not men in this place.
We're just rabid dogs.
Flying forward, I tackled Magnus to the floor. He was slippery, writhing away—but I crushed my hand into his hair and pulled him back. Holding him by the shoulders, I wrenched his face towards the cement with every bit of energy I had.