Downfall

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Downfall Page 12

by Jay Crownover


  He looked better, more aware, as he took the mug from me with a smile and a wink. His eyes were still red and there were still shadows under them, but he hid his exhaustion well. He smelled clean, and his hair was damp underneath the ever-present ball cap. He stepped close and brushed a coffee-scented kiss across my cheek. “Thanks.”

  I cleared my throat and stepped back so he could enter the apartment. “Anytime. Come eat. Noble made the pancakes.” I gave him a pointed look so he knew not to make fun of the wonky design.

  His grin widened and he looked over to where Noble was watching him expectantly. “Hearts. Very cute.”

  She threw up her hands in delight and smiled a syrupy, sweet smile. I could almost see it steal a piece of his heart. Only distracted for a moment, she turned back to her food, dismissing both of us.

  Solo piled his plate high and I watched him as unobtrusively as I could, asking under my breath, “Are you really okay? Can you take the morning off and catch a nap? Your boss seems pretty cool.”

  He grunted around a piece of bacon and shook his head. “My boss is the best. He saved my life.” I could tell by his somber expression and tone that he meant every word he said. “I refuse to let him down after everything he’s done for me. Besides, I have to leave work early. I have a… thing… tonight.”

  He shifted uneasily in front of me as I narrowed my eyes at him. “A thing?”

  He grunted again. “Yeah, a thing.”

  I sighed and poured my own cup of coffee. “A thing that will lead to more black eyes and busted lips?” I hated that he fought for money. Hated the idea of him being hurt and hurting others. It didn’t fit with my vision of the strong, brave man who was always there when I needed him.

  A grin quirked at the corner of his mouth. “If I do it right, it’s the other guy who should have black eyes and busted lips.” He cleared his throat. “This is a special event. Something private. I couldn’t turn down the money.”

  I was about to ask for more details when Noble suddenly jumped up and ran into her room. She quickly returned with a piece of paper scribbled with a drawing that actually looked much more like a heart than the pancakes had. Noble wrapped an arm around Solo’s knees and thrust the drawing in the direction of his hands. Their size difference was adorable. She was small and he was so big, but he was so infinitely gentle when he reached down to take the picture from her, sticky fingerprints and all.

  “What’s this, kiddo?”

  Noble gave him a serious look as she continued to hug his legs. “For your mommy. So she feels better.”

  Solo reached out to put his coffee on the counter. He put his free hand on Noble’s head the same way I often did. I saw his throat work for a second as he stroked her soft curls. “Thank you, Noble. She’ll love it.”

  “Where is she?” Noble asked the question innocently, but I could see the answer wasn’t a simple one. His eyes narrowed a fraction and the expression on his face tightened.

  Solo shifted his gaze to mine and it was his turn to clear his throat before he could answer. “My mom lives in a really nice house right outside of the city. She’s got a lot of doctors and nurses who take care of her, because I can’t do it myself. But sometimes she has a bad day and I’m the only one who can help her out. She’s the best mom in the whole world… Next to your mommy, of course.” He gently pried Noble off his legs and solemnly promised, “I’ll take your picture to her next time I go visit.”

  Appeased, Noble bounded back to the living room and her breakfast.

  It was quiet in the kitchen as I waited for him to tell me, or not. Either way, he looked like he needed a hug so I put my coffee down and moved toward him. My arms went around his lean waist and I rested my head on his chest. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm under my ear, but I could feel tension throughout every strong line of his body.

  “She worked three jobs to keep me off the streets. She was gone a lot, but we always managed, just me and her. I’m not kidding when I say she was an amazing mother. I was wild, but she always kept me from going too far. I had a chance to make it out of this city because of her. It was all she wanted. A better life for me.” His sigh ruffled my hair as he lowered his chin to rest on the top of my head.

  “My mom grew up in the city; she navigated it for years without incident. She was going to give up the car without question the night she was attacked.” He sighed again and I felt a slight tremor work though his big frame. “But she didn’t want to give up my stupid backpack in the backseat. I left it there when I borrowed the car. She was all about keeping my grades up so

  I could get into a good college. She didn’t want me to fall behind. She took a bullet to the head for my future.”

  “Oh my God!” The gasp ripped out of me and my arms tightened reflexively around him.

  “She was lucky she didn’t die, even if some days it doesn’t feel that way.” He shook his head. “It was bad, so bad at first. I was just a kid who lost the one person who actually cared about me. I dropped out of school, found a couple jobs and did what I could to get her into a better place. My boss found me when I was at the end of my rope, buried in debt and contemplating a long list of really bad options when it came to what I could do for her. He gave me the opportunity to help my mom, and to earn enough money to support both of us. It’s not easy, but it’s the only option I have. Like I said, he saved my life.”

  “I’m so sorry, Solo.” His arms wrapped around my shoulders when my voice cracked, and he pulled me close.

  “She’s got great staff taking care of her, but some nights she gets scared, she remembers, or she forgets. She always calms down when she sees me. I talk to her. I read to her. We listen to music. I promise her I’m doing all right and tell her I’m going to make her proud.” I felt a kiss land on the top of my head. “Last night I talked about you and Noble. She smiled the whole time.” He squeezed me again, this time hard enough to make me squeak. “Maybe, if you ever tell me your last name, I can take you to meet her. You can’t get in unless I put your full name on the visitor’s log.”

  It was my turn to quiver slightly against him. He wasn’t asking for much. After all, we were far from strangers at this point. But when I opened my mouth, nothing came out and I could feel his disappointment, so I held him tighter. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to let go, which meant figuring out how to share my past with him… while protecting him from it at the same time.

  Good thing I’d slept well last night, because it was really starting to get exhausting being me.

  Solo

  Normally when I had a fight, it was easy enough to slip into a quiet headspace; the only thing I was focused on was keeping my face from getting smashed in and my limbs from being torn off my body one by one. I usually put in earbuds, blasted something loud and aggressive, and warmed up with laser-sharp focus. It was no secret that I won more than I lost for a lot of reasons. My unwavering focus and intensity toward the task at hand was at the top of the list.

  But today, my mind was all over the place. I was anxious and twitchy. There was an uneasy tingle all along the back of my neck I couldn’t shake. I kept lifting my hand and rubbing at the spot, but the more I became aware of the prickly sensation, the more it buzzed and popped under my skin.

  It was an odd sensation to be in the Pit when it was practically empty. I was used to the old warehouse being full of eager gamblers and wild fight enthusiasts calling for blood and broken bones. When people were cheering and screaming my name, it was easy to forget I was doing something barbaric for a paycheck. It felt almost like being an entertainer, like I was putting on a show instead of beating someone to a pulp when the locals were around to root for their favorites. With the massive, open space empty except for the men dressed in the one-of-a-kind, tailored suits I would never be able to afford, this fight felt much more like what they really were… gory, gruesome, blood sport for the entertainment of men who would never know what it was like to have to fight for anything in their overly coiffed, pampered li
ves. People like them loved to watch because they were used to the violence. For them, these fights were the equivalent of watching the two meanest dogs in the junkyard go at each other. For the men paying for today’s private bout, it was something different. It was more like taking the strongest, most ruthless representative from their clan and putting him up against whomever was tough and capable enough to protect the reputation of the city.

  If I lost today, it wasn’t just getting my ass kicked. No, my entire town would look like we couldn’t stand toe to toe with those rich fuckers from the gated neighborhoods up in the hills. There was an added layer of pressure I was trying to keep from getting to me as the man wearing the most expensive suit in the room slowly made his way to where I was hovering in the entrance of the locker room.

  If my boss was the person I respected most in this city, then the man now standing in front of me was the only one I admittedly feared. Something happened to the air when the man we simply referred to as the Devil got close. It was almost like the molecules in the very air shifted and changed. Like they moved out of the way to give the man, and the dark, charismatic energy he radiated, enough space. There was a weird change in temperature whenever he was in my orbit. I knew it was all in my head; the man couldn’t really carry hellfire with him, but there was no denying I always found myself taking a preventative step back when his unusual gold eyes landed on me. Anyone watching would think I was being a wuss. The man was several inches shorter than me, incredibly lean, and dressed like he was going to a board meeting. He looked like an executive, not a fighter. Outwardly, there wasn’t much that would identify him as the biggest threat in the room, but the second those gold eyes settled on you, there was zero doubt to anyone who had any sense that this man was lethal. Those eyes weren’t human. They were otherworldly, and so was the man. I’d seen him strip down and fight more than once. He never lost. Never.

  Boss was wrong when he said I was the best, because the Devil was better than the best. He was untouchable, unstoppable, and when he wasn’t hiding in his designer suits, he was both ripped and shredded like a soldier, and if possible, even more heavily tattooed than I was. His ability to hide in plain sight was terrifying. So was the absolutely cold way he sized me up and told me, “Something is off. From the start I didn’t like the hard sell these guys gave me, and I didn’t like the way they insisted the fighter going against their guy had to be you. Told your boss to talk you out of it, but figured you wouldn’t walk because of the money.”

  I nodded slowly, looking over his shoulder to where the other men dressed like they were going to the opera were standing. I hadn’t seen the other fighter yet, so I was even more anxious about the odds being in my favor.

  “The Boss tried to tell me to walk. I couldn’t. The money will pay for my mom’s care for several years.” I dipped my chin down and took a calming breath. “Have you seen who they brought in to put me up against?” I hated feeling clueless before a fight. I hated the lack of control. Not knowing killed me. I was someone who had every minute of every day planned out. Unknowns were scary and stressed me the fuck out, which was part of the reason Orley and Noble were taking up all my free time. I didn’t want them to be unknown. I wanted to know them as well as I knew myself. I wanted to be able to predict what they wanted, what they needed from me. I wanted to be someone who was reliable and involved.

  The man in the suit lifted a hand with an intricate tattoo spread across the back of it to rub his mouth. Rumor had it the tattoo represented his wife, who was also his business partner, but I’d never had the balls to ask. I’d met the stunning redhead he married once or twice. The thing I remembered most about her, aside from the fact she was a knockout, was the fact that the woman was nearly as intimidating as her man. It figured she would be a badass, one who proudly wore a diamond mined from the pits of hell, since she had to stand shoulder to shoulder with the man who checked the criminals and miscreants in my city. He was ruthless and cruel. She was calculating and cunning. They were a deadly match and infamous in all the right ways.

  “Kid, you’ve fought for me for years. You could ask for help. I know your boss would give it without question.” A black eyebrow lifted in my direction. “I would also be willing to float you a loan. My conditions for repayment would probably piss off your boss, though.”

  I cleared my throat. I refused to be indebted to men who could destroy me. My mom needed me too much for me to get into bed with the actual bad guys—even if they were the best of the bad in these parts.

  I forced a weak grin and shook out my taped-up hands. “I appreciate it. But taking care of my mom is something I have to do on my own. She took care of me without help; I owe her the same.”

  “That’s a lifelong commitment. Why not make it easier on yourself?” The slightly accented voice didn’t sound angry, just honestly confused as to why I insisted on doing things the hard way.

  “I don’t want to owe anyone anything.” I heard Orley’s voice in the back of my mind telling me the same thing. When you didn’t owe anyone, it was a lot easier to walk away. The more she leaned on me, the more she relied on me, the more she felt she owed me, the harder it would be for her to rabbit out of town in the middle of the night if things went wrong. I understood where she was coming from a little bit better now. I never wanted to be under the thumb of anyone, even the men I both admired and feared the most.

  Surprisingly, the man in front of me seemed to understand without further explanation. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and gave a squeeze. “Better not to owe anyone. But be smart enough to know when to ask for help if you need it.” He gave me a little shake, reminding me of the coiled strength hidden beneath those pinstripes. “Still have a bad feeling about these guys. They didn’t bring their fighter in early to check the space out or get a look at you. Something’s up. I don’t trust anyone with enough money to make setting up a private fight worth my while. That being said, you know I can’t get involved. I’m just the middle man.”

  He kept his expression bland, but we both knew if he let me die my boss would go off the rails, and if those two went at it, there would be a war on the streets no one would be able to stop. Mortals would suffer as gods fought and rained down destruction. I’d like to avoid both dying and setting two formidable men against one another, if at all possible. So, I just grunted my response and found my mouth guard to pop in.

  No longer able to talk, I followed the dark-haired man who pulled all the strings in the city into the crudely painted circle in the middle of the cement floor. There were old bloodstains deeply imbedded in the concrete. I’d been responsible for some and others were left from my own injuries. It was a familiar place, one I knew like the back of my hand, but the three men smirking at me from the other side of the circle suddenly made it feel foreign and strange. I was used to the opponent looking at me with confidence and challenge. It was weird to see that same look on the faces of middle-aged men who clearly had never thrown a punch. What did they know that I didn’t?

  Since my mouth was filled with the plastic guard, my companion was the one who had to address the others in the room.

  “You gentlemen are paying for this circus. Are we standing around the rest of the night, or did you find a fighter you think can take on our boy?”

  His voice was always so smooth, that accent making it sound lyrical and exotic, but his stance and the fire in his odd eyes let the opposition know he was in charge, regardless of who was putting up the money.

  The oldest of the other men stepped forward, and for a split second I thought he looked vaguely familiar. He was dressed as fancy as the man in the pinstripe suit, but it was obvious with one look that he went out of his way to flaunt his wealth. The diamond tie tack was ridiculous in this part of the city, so were his big ass rings and the designer watch on his wrist. If he walked out the door unescorted, all of those things would be ruthlessly stripped from him in seconds.

  “We’re ready when you are. I can’t tell you how excited I�
��ve been for this fight since you agreed to set it up. You think you’re quite impressive, don’t you, young man?” He asked the question with a sneer, so I didn’t bother to grunt or nod in response.

  We stared at each other silently, some kind of wordless battle waging. I had no idea what this dude had against me, but it was becoming obvious the reason he wanted me in this warehouse was to teach me some kind of lesson. All the unease and anxiety started to claw at my bones and tear at me for not listening when I knew something wasn’t right.

  Suddenly, the man waved his hand. There was a commotion behind him and the sound of echoing footsteps as someone prowled through the empty warehouse.

  “I went to great lengths to find an opponent for you. Someone special. Someone totally unique.” There was a nasty gleam in his eyes I didn’t like at all. He clearly thought he had the upper hand here, and his self-assuredness was obnoxious.

  “What the fuck is the meaning of this?” Suddenly the dark-haired man standing next to me stiffened and started to vibrate with barely suppressed rage. That weird heat he emanated started to grow. I watched dispassionately as the older man stumbled back a step in surprise. “A woman? You want the kid to fight a woman? You know this setup is a total knockout or until the other opponent stops breathing, correct? You expect him to KO a female?”

  The older man clapped his hands together and pulled the young woman next to his side. She shot him a baleful look before letting her gaze land on me.

  She was tiny. Way shorter than Orley and probably only a hundred pounds soaking wet. Her hands were taped similar to mine, and she squared her shoulders after giving me a long once over. We were so unevenly matched it was a joke. One uppercut or kick to the chest and she would break like a doll.

  The older man shrugged, eyes glittering with glee. “Any fighter we picked. Those are the rules. We want him to fight her, and if he doesn’t, we automatically win.”

 

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