Royal Stripper

by Sienna Valentine

  It was still two hours to go, plenty of time for him to get there on foot. No need to waste money on a subway when it was only three miles away from this shelter. The walk could double as a warm up for the upcoming fight.

  A light rain started to fall as he walked, making the poor visibility of the nighttime darkness even worse. He didn't love the rain, although it would help cool him during the fight. The weather may also thin the crowds, unfortunately. That would affect him directly, since less people meant less money for him. Randy gave the winner 20% of the action. Last night, that worked out to almost $200. Loser got nothing but a potential hospital bill, something he definitely couldn’t afford. But he’d need at least a broken bone to even consider that. He was used to pain. Pain he could deal with. Broken bones were something he couldn’t fix on his own.

  “He’ll need at least six stitches along with the cast,” the doctor said to Joel’s father. “How did you say this happened, again?”

  “Kids,” my father said with a laugh that was almost convincing, even to Joel. It helped that his father probably did think his injury was funny. “Skateboarding accident, landed on his face and arm. We cleaned it up before we came in, got the gravel out.”

  “You did a remarkable job,” the doctor said. Joel could see he was skeptical, but he wasn’t going to get a different story out of Joel. “At any rate, we’ll need to give him morphine before we set the arm. And then I’ll stitch up the head.” His father sat in the room the whole time, making sure Joel didn’t say anything to contradict his story. On the way home, they stopped to fill his prescription for morphine pills to take for the next few days to ease the pain.

  By the time they got home, his arm was throbbing again.

  “My arm is hurting,” he said to his father as he walked into the kitchen. His father was standing at the sink with a beer and the bottle of pills in front of him, they were already open.

  His father fished a couple of fingers into the bottle and pulled out a pill. He looked at Joel and smiled cruelly, then popped it into his own mouth and swallowed it down with a swig from his bottle. “Tough luck on that,” he said. “Maybe next time you stay the fuck out of the way when your mother and I are talking.” He popped the top back onto the bottle and dropped them into his pocket.

  Talking. That’s what he called what he did with his fists.

  That was the last Joel had seen of that bottle until he found it in the garbage a couple of days later, empty. By then the pain had either dulled significantly, or he had gotten use to it. Either way, he didn’t care anymore. At least it hadn’t happened to his good arm. He could still use it to block the old man if he had to.

  Chapter 6

  Amber

  Another late night and Amber couldn't wait to get home and crawl into bed. She'd had a long night last night, for some reason images of the fight had kept flashing through her mind. She wasn't one for brutality, but there was just something about it that she couldn't forget. The one residual image of the tall winner staring at her as she turned away was what she remembered most. His deep eyes burned into her mind. She wondered what color they were, it had been impossible to tell in the darkness last night. In her dreams, they were golden.

  Rain was pouring from the sky tonight, and she hadn't even thought to bring an umbrella. The short walk to her apartment left her drenched, and it wasn't until she was a few feet from the front door that she began to hear the familiar shouting filling her ears from the alleyway again. Her heart started to pound. Amber had assumed it would be a onetime thing, she never imagined they would be back again tonight, especially not in this weather. Despite being exhausted and really wanting to get to bed, she had to look. What if he was there again? Maybe if she saw him again, she could free the image from her mind and get some sleep.

  The setup seemed similar with the car in the alleyway lighting the fight up with its headlights and a crowd of people circling the fighters. If anything, there were even more people here tonight and each one seemed to be cheering and yelling even louder than the other. It was amazing the cops hadn't shown up yet. In any other neighborhood they would have. In this one, they were probably too busy with more serious issues. Besides, the rain seemed to be drowning out the sound from spreading too far from the source.

  Not content with looking over shoulders, Amber pushed her way to the front this time. These people were on her property, sort of, so she felt justified even though she caught a couple of dirty looks as she pushed her way through.

  In the middle of the crowd, two fighters were facing each other. Their shirtless bodies were already slick with sweat and mud, obviously both men had already fallen to the ground - whether by slipping in the rain or by being thrown down by their opponent, she had no idea.

  It took her a moment to recognize which of the fighters was the man from last night because of the mud. Both men were similar in size, although the new one seemed heavier, more muscular.

  As she watched, the one from last night threw a swinging punch at the other man, who dodged it, only to follow it up with a kick to the thigh that made the thicker man wince and step back. Amber clapped and let out an involuntary squeal. What the hell am I doing, she wondered immediately. Why was she so invested in this stranger? Why should she care if he wins or loses? The only thing she should really care about was how soon it would be over, so she could head on up to bed. But her eyes betrayed her and she kept them focused on the tall man from last night.

  The blond hair on his head seemed darker tonight, soaked through with rain, and his face had a stain across it that she had assumed was mud, although now that she thought about it, could just as easily be blood. How much of the fight had she had already missed?

  "Who are these guys," she asked the man next to her. He was a thin man with glasses that seemed too fogged up in the warm rain to really even see anything, but she hoped he had more of an idea of what was going on than she did.

  "UFC," the man said simply.

  "Wait, what? The one that I see on TV all the time?" she asked. There was no way these guys were real UFC fighters, were they?

  The man smiled at her. "Nah. This one stands for Underground Fight Club. These guys just wish they were in the real thing."

  "Oh," she said. That made more sense.

  The crowd let out a quick sound as the bigger man threw out a quick jab that caught the blond in the nose, snapping his head back. Amber sucked in a hiss and put her hand to her mouth.

  "You have money on Joel? Might be a good bet, I'm taking the same gamble," the man next to her said. Joel. That was his name.

  "Why?"

  "He's somewhat new, but he's hungry. Haven't seen him lose a fight yet. He is a bit over-matched this time, though. Brutus is a lot more experienced."

  "Why is he fighting him then?" All of sudden she felt simultaneously concerned and silly that she cared about a man she had never met.

  "He was a last minute sub, although I doubt he knows that. Randy, the organizer, tells me this kid is pretty naive."

  Another roar from the crowd and Amber's gaze snapped back to the action just in time to see Brutus had somehow gotten behind Joel with his arms around the smaller man's neck. Joel had one hand in between his neck and the other man's forearm, keeping him from locking the choke in completely. The two of them struggled for at least a minute and Amber was sure it was the end for Joel. All of a sudden he manoeuvred himself in such a way as to expose the other man's torso and he was able to deliver a swift elbow to the solar plexus.

  Brutus stepped back and his grip loosened enough for Joel to wrench his way out, his job easier as they were both slick from the rain and mud. He pushed the big man away as both fighters paused to catch their breath, eyeing each other like wild animals.

  "Whew, thought he was done for there," the man observed.

  "How much did you bet?"

  "I have $100 on him," the man answered.

  "So everyone here just comes to watch the fight and place bets on who wins?"

/>   "Of course," he replied, as if it was the most logical thing in the world.

  "Are there rules to this... spectacle?"

  "No weapons, bare hands only. Other than that, no." The man pulled his glasses off and wiped them on his shirt, as if just now noticing how wet they were. They were already splattered with fresh drops by the time he returned them to his face.

  The men in the middle were circling each other again, each one looking for a weakness in the other. Amber's breath seemed caught in her throat as she watched, each nerve on edge as she waited nervously for the action to continue.

  Chapter 7

  Joel

  His opponent tonight was strong, fast and wasn't falling for a lot of the tricks he'd been able to pull on fighters in the past. Joel could feel his heart thumping in his chest and if it wasn't for the pounding rain coming down and the roar of the crowd around him, he was sure he'd have been able to hear it as well. It had been a long time since he felt this emotion. Fear.

  "Get out, get the fuck out!"

  "Where the hell am I supposed to go?"

  "You think I care, boy? I'm done letting you leech from me. For 18 years I've paid for everything, wiped your ass, let you eat my food. I'm done. I've been dreaming of this day."

  "Fine, you fucking prick. Let me just get some stuff and you'll never hear from me again."

  Joel's father laughed, but there was no joy in it. "Everything in this house is mine, boy. I paid for all of it. You're lucky I let you keep the clothes on your back."

  "Are you fucking kidding me? Mom! Mom?"

  "Leave your mother out of this, she's with me on this. We've both been waiting for this day. Get out before I fucking go and call the cops on you for trespassing."

  A year ago, his threat would have been to kick his ass, but as Joel matured his father had begun to slowly realize that was no longer possible. The last time the two of them fought, his father had been the one that had ended up needing a doctor. No doubt that was part of why he'd been trying to get rid of him. But Joel's mother would have no one to protect her if he left. Why wasn't she sticking up for him.

  "Mom?"

  "I told you to get the fuck out already."

  "Not until I talk to Mom," Joel said. He stood up to his full six feet two inches and pushed his chest against his father. He looked down at the older man, daring him to make a move.

  "Fine," his dad said, taking a step back. "Linda, come out and say goodbye to Joel. He's finally getting the hell out of our house and leaving us in peace."

  Joel's mother finally appeared in the hallway leading back to her bedroom where she'd been most of the day. A lot of times she didn't even make it out at all anymore. She was wearing a housecoat and her eyes had circles under them. From where she stood, Joel couldn't tell if they were from lack of sleep or a fist.

  "Mom, I-"

  "It's time you left, Joel," she said simply. She seemed to be staring at him, but when he moved slightly her eyes didn't follow. She was staring past him.

  "He won't even let me take any of my stuff..." he said weakly. A pain hit him in the chest and he felt an overwhelming urge to start sobbing. He hadn't done that in years. Damn if he'd let his father see it, though.

  "You heard your father," she said. "We paid for that stuff. Just get out."

  "Who will protect you?"

  "Fuck you, you little shit," his father said, advancing on him again but Joel pushed him out of the way and took another step towards his mother. To his horror, she took a step back, maintaining her distance.

  "I got along fine before you were born," she said. "I didn't ask for you to protect me."

  "That's right," his father sneered. "You think you've made a difference in this life, boy? You haven't and you never will. I wish we'd never even had you. What a fucking mistake that was. God damn the number of times I think about if I had only just fucking jerked off into a tissue one more time you'd have been flushed down the toilet."

  Joel let out a scream and swung his fist, catching his father in the nose and sending him reeling back. His mother yelled and rushed forward. "Get out!" she screamed. "Just go!"

  Staggering back, the young man turned and yanked open the door to his house for the last time. The night was cold and rain was coming down in sheets. His light red hoodie wouldn't protect him at all, and he had no idea where to go. His heart was pounding in his chest as he ran down the pathway leading away from his house, already drenched. What was he going to do now?

  The rain pounded into Joel but his mind was somewhere else, and he didn't even notice Brutus charging at him again until it was too late. He spun to get out of the way, but the big man caught him in one of his beefy arms and pulled him along, slamming him roughly into the brick wall of the building behind him. His head snapped back and he heard and felt it crack against the stone. Immediate warmth on his neck told him it was bleeding badly.

  He blinked as the air around him grew darker and it was only instinct that made him bring up his hands to protect his face an instant before he felt Brutus' fists crash into them. He could hear yelling and screaming, but all he could think about was that he hoped that it wasn't coming from him.

  It's the crowd. People are watching. They're paying to watch you fight. Watch you win. Don't get paid to lose.

  He shook his head to clear it even as blows continued to rain down on him. He realized suddenly he was on his knees, so he caught one of the arms of his opponent the next time he was hit and used it to yank himself back up to his feet, while at the same time pulling the big man off balance in surprise.

  Joel stood up and threw a punch in the area where he thought Brutus stood, but still not seeing straight, it just went wildly past the other man and connected with nothing. The crowd around him cheered again but he had no idea what for.

  All of a sudden he felt a big thick forearm wrap around his neck and slip against the wetness on his face to settle under his chin. Fuck.

  Chapter 8

  Amber

  Amber watched in horror as Brutus held tightly around Joel's neck as the blond struggled briefly, and then went limp. The crowd was going crazy, and the man standing next to her was cursing wildly.

  Brutus held on for a few more moments and then let go. She watched with wide eyes as Joel slipped out from his grasp and crumpled lifelessly down onto the pavement below. The winner raised his arms and let out a howl, almost like a wolf, and then walked into the crowd surrounding the fighters. Everyone was patting him on the back.

  "Well, that's that then, time to finally get out of this rain. That's the last time I bet on the underdog," the man next to her said.

  "What now," she asked. "Are they going to make sure that he's okay?"

  "Who knows, who cares," the man said, turning around and starting to walk out of the alley along with many of the other spectators. "He's a loser now, no one remembers the losers."

  Amber looked back at the body of Joel, still lying on the pavement. She could see that he was breathing, though, but still covered in some of the mud that the rain hadn't yet washed away. She was soaking wet as well, but barely aware of it.

  No one was paying any attention to the fallen fighter, including the big black man she had seen him speaking to last night. He was too busy with his arm around Brutus, laughing and talking as if the two had just come home from watching their team win a football game.

  She quickly scurried over to the fallen man and bent down, hesitantly reaching out and touching his shoulder. As she did, the lights from the car in the alley turned off and she was plunged into a heavier darkness. Joel didn't move, so she poked his soggy arm a bit harder. "Joel? Are you okay?"

  Finally he started to stir. He cracked an eye open, and then another. He seemed confused and then shook his head a bit as he pulled his arms down and back underneath himself to prop up on his elbows. "What the hell..."

  "You were choked unconscious," she said.

  He stared dully at her for a moment, letting the words sink in until they found m
eaning in his addled brain. "Shit. I lost?"

  She just nodded. Typical man to think about whether he won or not as he lay injured on the ground.

  "Who are you?"

  "No one," she said. "I mean, I was just watching... my name is Amber. Amber Sinclair."

  "What the fuck do you want, Amber Sinclair," he said. He was struggling to sit up now but just as he did he swayed and put out a hand to brace himself on the ground so that he didn't fall back down. Amber instinctively reached out and grabbed him under the arm to help. He glared down at her hand.