by Cecy Robson
“So you’re a good little Catholic boy?”
He smiled. “I said I was raised Catholic. Never said I was good at it.”
I looked up at him, laughing, but his expression had turned stony. Mateo’s relaxed demeanor had vanished in an instant, replaced by the familiar look of the steel-sharp head bouncer who led the crew at Club Excess. Two males in their late teens walked toward us, their expressions angry and unyielding. Their spendy sneakers and thick gold chains broadcasted they were dealers, gang members, or both. Mateo’s hand left mine to snag my opposite hip and pull me closer before he slid it back to hover over my lower back.
Mateo wanted to keep me close and protected. But he also prepared himself to act and matched their menace with equal force. A lot was said in their tensing muscles. There were no words exchanged, but Mateo definitely made a silent vow to make them bleed if they acted. He watched them as they passed and kept them in his line of vision until we crossed the street and disappeared around the corner.
“Shit,” I muttered. “If I was alone, I’d be running the other way.”
“This isn’t the type of neighborhood to be alone in, Evie. Not for you or anyone.”
“But don’t you walk it alone when you go for a match?”
“That’s different.” He stroked my lower back. “It’s also different because you’re with me. I had to show those punks I wouldn’t let them do shit to you.”
No, you wouldn’t, would you?
He cocked his head when he caught my small smile. “Don’t go outside without me, and don’t go anywhere alone, even in the gym. I’ll keep you safe. But I need you to stay smart.”
“All right,” I agreed, taking in the neighborhood.
At the next block was a large warehouse. The lower level housed a shoe store, a Puerto Rican grocery store, and a liquor store. Metal gates covered all the storefronts except for the liquor store, where two men and a woman stumbled out laughing. We rounded the corner to the closed gym. Mateo led me through a side entrance. The guy at the door, all four hundred pounds of him, stood from his bar stool and nodded to Mateo.
“Wassup, Garten?” Mateo said.
“Teo,” the man said. “I got five bills on you tonight.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Mateo answered, his voice deepening.
We passed through a big open gym where a gigantic guy with a Celtic cross inked into his back kicked the stuffing out of a sorry-looking heavy bag. His kicks, high and lethal, almost reached the chain that held it, even though it hung several feet off the ground.
Mateo stopped suddenly when he saw him. “Killian!” he called.
The fighter abandoned his massacre and crossed the mat-padded floor, his hulky body shining with sweat. He grinned as he shook Mateo’s hand. There was a familiarity in their greeting, kind of like what you’d expect between brothers. “Been a long time, Teo. When are you coming back?”
“Can’t. Too much to do at the club.” He motioned to me. “This is Evelyn. Evie, this is Killian O’Brien, my old sparring partner. He’s from the neighborhood.”
I glanced between them. “You grew up together?”
Mateo nodded. “Yeah. We go way back.”
I tried to smile, but it was hard to be friendly around someone so intimidating. Thick dark hair covered his head, and midnight-blue eyes blinked back at me. “Good to meet you,” I said.
“Same here,” he said. He turned to Mateo. “How’s your sister?”
“Lety? She’s good. In college, trying to make something of herself.”
“I meant Sofia.”
The sudden silence between them put me on edge. Mateo’s shoulders squared hard enough to hang trays from. “She’s in high school. That’s how she is.”
Killian didn’t respond, but Teo sure did. “Oh, I know you’re not checking out my baby sister.”
“It’s all good, man. Just wondering how she’s doing.” Killian played with the straps of his sparring gloves. “If you see her, tell her I said hi.”
He walked away and returned to the heavy bag. Mateo watched him, his strong features chilling to blocks of ice. Initially, he’d been happy to see his friend. Now, not so much. I didn’t miss the tension or the threat behind Teo’s words and neither did Killian, although he hadn’t reacted. Teo wouldn’t pass on his message to his little sister. I knew it, and I could sense that Killian knew it, too. “You okay?” I asked him.
“It’s all good. Let’s go.”
Based on the sharp tone, I didn’t believe him. Just like I hadn’t believed Killian when he’d used the same phrase.
Mateo led me down the hall. He rapped on the heavy metal door with his knuckles. I was beginning to rethink this date when a balding man with a cigar sticking out of his mouth answered and the roar of a lot of voices flowed from below. The guy looked from Teo to me. “Good. We need a ring girl. Ladasha called out sick.”
My mouth popped open.
“She’s not going to be your fucking ring girl,” Teo said, like this was something he dealt with regularly. “Watch your step, Evie.”
Although he warned me, I lost my footing on the steep steps. Mateo gripped my elbow, steadying me as the Octagon came into view. That’s right, the Octagon—he told me that’s what they called the eight-sided ring. It was covered with a light blue mat. Black chain-link fencing wrapped around the sides, and thick black foam covered the posts and railing. Several rows of metal chairs surrounded the arena, backing up all the way to the gray-painted walls.
It seemed like the entire warehouse basement had been redone to accommodate the growing crowd. Gray-painted concrete made up the flooring and four emergency exits were tucked at each corner. “How do people not know about this place?” I whispered.
“Because it’s a legit establishment during the day. Members spar down here during regular hours. The mats, equipment, and everything else are moved out of the way during fight nights.”
Ant, who was talking to someone near the ring, angled his head when he saw us. He left the man and strode up the aisle, greeting Mateo with that hand-shoulder thing guys do. “What are you doing here, Evelyn?” he said to me.
“Just came to watch Mateo,” I answered like a dumbass.
“The girls here yet?” Mateo asked.
“Not yet. Big Chris is getting them, since Noelle’s not walking much.” His eyes cut to me, but then his smile turned edgier. “Your stuff is in the back. You want me to stay with Evelyn till they get here?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” His hands traced over my back. “I’ll see you in a few, okay?”
“Okay, good luck.” And please try not to die or bleed too much.
Ant watched him disappear into an open doorway. The locker room, I assumed. “You want to sit in the front, Evelyn?”
“Wherever you want is fine with me.”
“Hmph.” He gave me the once-over. “Let’s do two rows back. Otherwise you’ll get splattered with spit and shit.”
Jesus. I hoped he was joking.
Ant escorted me down the aisle. “Teo usually starts on this side― Hey, assholes. Get the fuck on outta here.” The three men trying to save a row of seats snagged their jackets and hurried to leave. Ant watched them, yelling at them as they left. “What do you think this is, church? Disrespectful motherfuckers.” Thankfully, his tone lightened when he turned back to me. “Here, sweet thing. Sit here.”
I sat slowly, grateful the two biggest guys here had my back. “Ant, what should I do if this place gets busted?”
He hardened his brown eyes. “You mean if the po-po show up and they send you to the big house?” His face cracked and he busted out laughing when I gawked at him. “Evelyn, most of the guys who come here are Philly cops. Philly cops watch each other’s backs. You’re safe―so long as you keep it on the down-low and don’t go anywhere alone.” He jerked his chin to the side where a crowd of greasy-looking men took up a row of seats. “Can’t vouch for everyone here, Evelyn. Just stay with us and you’ll be fine.”
&
nbsp; “If you say so.”
The door slammed open and I heard the sound of familiar swearing vibrate down to us.
“No, I don’t want to be your damn ring girl,” Dee-Dee snapped. “Bitch, what do I look like to you?”
She stormed down the metal steps, followed by Big Chris, who helped Noelle maneuver the narrow stairwell. She limped, but she was in far better shape than the last time I’d seen her. I tensed, not knowing how any of them would react to my company. Dee had been nice to me the last time I’d seen her―mostly because I’d helped her friend. But that didn’t make us BFFs, and that certainly didn’t make me any more welcome. Especially if she did have a thing for Teo.
Dee’s long braids bounced around her face as she swayed with confidence and a hell of a lot more attitude than I had. “Hey, Ant,” she said, gliding her way past him. She stopped short when she saw me.
“Hi, Dee,” I said, giving her a small wave when she said nothing more. Even in the dimness she could probably tell I was blushing like a damn fool.
Noelle huffed behind her. “What the hell, Dee? Doc says I need to keep my feet up.” She poked her head around Dee when she didn’t move, her eyes widening. “Hey, Evelyn. I didn’t expect to see you here, honey.”
“Ah, yeah, well, you know.”
They exchanged glances, realizing that yes, I was just that lame.
Ant stood. “Chris, I’m needed with Teo. You got the girls?”
Big Chris barely blinked at my presence. “Yup.”
I shuffled over. Dee sat next to me, Noelle sat next to her, and Chris took the seat at the end. Dee stared straight ahead like I wasn’t even there. Noelle fumbled through her giant bag. “Do youz want popcorn?”
Dee sighed and turned to face her. “You brought popcorn. To an MMA match?”
“I’m hungry. All these pain meds give me the munchies.”
“I want popcorn,” Big Chris said.
Noelle passed him a sandwich bag packed to the brim. “Fine, give me some,” Dee said.
“Do you want me to turn the chair in front of you around so you can put your feet up?” I offered.
Noelle stopped munching. “Yeah. Thanks, Evelyn.” She grinned at Dee. “Nice to know someone’s watching out for me.”
Dee laughed. Her tight relationship with Noelle was easing the tension between us. “Just eat your damn popcorn.”
I stood and made a grab for the chair just as two girls snaked their way through in front of us. Big makeup, big hair, tiny dresses, and apparently big mouths. The one closest yanked the chair from my grip hard enough to hurt my hand. “What are you doing? That’s my seat, ho.”
“Ah, I was just getting the chair for my friend, her ankles―”
“Bitch, I don’t care,” she snapped, trying to get in my face.
I thought I was in serious trouble until Dee stood, and so did Noelle. “Problem?” Dee asked, her voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through the air. The girls didn’t say anything. “I asked if you had a problem.”
Noelle pointed to her feet, not waiting for them to answer. “You see these? They’re busted up from the last stupid whore I kicked in the face.” The big-hair be-atches exchanged looks and started to back away. “That’s right, keep walking,” Noelle said, motioning them away with her hand. “I knew you were smarter than you looked in your fake-ass hair.”
Big Chris continued to eat his popcorn like Dee and Noelle hadn’t been ready to throw down. He hadn’t been worried, so there must have been a reason for it. “You’ve been in fights before?” I asked.
“Yeah,” they both answered like it was nothing.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Philly,” Noelle answered.
“Jersey,” Dee answered almost at the same time.
“Oh,” I said.
Noelle took a sip from a can of Sprite she’d brought. “You sure you don’t want any popcorn, Evelyn?” Noelle asked.
“No. Thanks. I’m good.” I turned the folding chair around and helped her lift her feet. The moment I sat, someone killed the lights so only the ones over the caged Octagon shone. The guy with the cigar moved to the center with a wireless mike. “This match ain’t authorized by the UFC.”
“No,” the crowd murmured, followed by a few swears.
“This match ain’t sanctioned by your mama, your daddy, your parole officer.”
The crowd laughed. I didn’t think it was funny. He continued, his face reddening as he bent forward and yelled, “This bitch ain’t sanctioned by anyone but meeeeeeeeee!”
“Yeah!” the crowd hollered.
“Are you ready for blood?”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Are you ready for pain?”
“Fuck YEAH!”
“Then let’s get it onnnnnnnnnnnnn!”
The crowd roared. Everyone leapt to their feet except for Noelle, who hooted between bites, and me as I momentarily covered my face, trying not to hurl.
A big man wearing black pants, a black shirt, and vinyl gloves stepped forward, followed by the hoochie who’d wanted to bust me up. Yeah, that’s right. She was the night’s ring girl. Slut.
“Three motherfucking rounds,” Cigar Guy continued. “Between Philly’s Mateo ‘El Oso’ Tres Santos…”
“ ‘El Oso’?” I asked as the announcer spilled Mateo’s six-foot-four, 235-pound, and seventy-four-inch-reach stats.
Mateo stepped into the Octagon, barefoot, shirtless, and in burnt-orange shorts with a black stripe cutting down each side. Surgical glue kept the stab wound closed, but I could see it. That meant his opponent would, too. Dee kept her eyes fixed on the ring while she leaned in my direction. “He’s known as ‘the Bear’ because he rips his opponents apart.”
“…and Camden’s Ernesto ‘El Assassin’ Cortes…”
“ ‘El Assassin’?” I didn’t wait to hear the rest. Especially when a building of a man in red shorts stepped in, growling at Mateo and spitting through his mouth guard.
Dee’s eyes cut uneasily to me. “It’s rumored he killed someone.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “But don’t worry. I haven’t heard there’s any truth to it. It’s all good, Evelyn.”
“Then why are you nervous? You seem nervous, Dee.” She did, except her voice wasn’t as shrill as mine. Still, I wanted her more confident, since at that moment I was freaked out of my mind. Mateo, though, remained eerily cool. He danced in place, his eyes fixing on his opponent like the massive guy was a piece of meat. Hopefully, El Oso was hungry for Assassin.
Dee muttered beneath her breath―something I couldn’t understand. But then she looked at me. “I bet two G’s on Teo. I need him to win.”
Noelle swore. “Why the hell did you do that?”
“For Glori. Preschool doesn’t pay for itself, Noelle. And her daddy isn’t offering.”
“That’s because Shaz is a monstrous prick.” Noelle swore again and homed in on where Mateo continued to move in place, his hands free at his sides. “Does Teo know?”
Dee’s voice quieted. “Yeah. He knows.”
The Bear and the Assassin closed in. The ref said something like, “Fight hard, fight fair, and don’t bite.” There wasn’t a bell. The ref pointed to Teo. “You ready?” Teo nodded. The ref pointed to the Assassin. “You ready?” The Assassin growled. The ref yelled, “Let’s get it on!”
Teo and the Assassin danced around each other, their hands up, their hips relaxed. It seemed to take a long time for them to connect. When they did, it was all-out war. Their movements were fast. Almost too fast to track. The Assassin snarled and threw a kick. Teo dodged it and was on him. The men clashed, tying up, and kneeing each other in the ribs. The Assassin tried to throw him. Teo shifted his weight, dropping his center of gravity, and tossed him instead.
Big Chris, Noelle, and Dee screamed, urging Teo on. I screamed, too, but for a different reason. Behind us the crowd hollered, pumping their fists in the air.
The Assassin charged, ramming Teo and knocking him back into the f
ence. Teo dug his feet in, shoving forward when the Assassin kicked him hard in his injured leg.
They collided again and exchanged a torrent of knees. Teo struck him brutally and forced him to go in the opposite direction while reaching underneath him. He lowered his hips and used his weight to take the Assassin to the mat.
Everyone was on their feet. Including Noelle. Including me.
Teo hammered the Assassin’s head with punch after punch, keeping him down. Ant leaned over the fence. I hadn’t noticed him before, but I saw and heard him then, even through the howls of crowd. “Ground and pound, Teo! Ground and pound!” he yelled.
Teo caught one elbow and then another between his shots to the Assassin’s skull. One nailed him hard in the temple and the other caught his jaw. The Assassin rolled Teo over, leaning his forearm across Teo’s throat.
He was choking him! The Assassin was choking my almost-boyfriend. I started forward without thinking. Dee circled her arms around my waist and hauled me back. “Evelyn! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I barely heard her, my eyes so focused on the Assassin and Mateo’s reddening face that I almost missed Teo’s reaction.
He smashed the Assassin hard in the nose.
Blood spurted.
The crowd screamed.
And my knees buckled.
If Dee hadn’t still been holding me, I would have landed on my ass.
Teo nailed him again, regaining his position on top and busting him up with blow after blow. The Assassin tapped his shoulder. The ref’s arms scissored out, and he hauled Teo off him.
Mateo didn’t fight to get back to the Assassin. He lifted his arms and the crowd lost their damn minds. Ant rushed in, hugging him. Teo pointed our way. Dee, Noelle, and Big Chris were on their feet, screaming.
I stood there like I was made of stone.
The guy with the cigar returned, announcing Teo as the winner with a minute and fifty-nine seconds to spare. Hands down, that was the longest and most vicious three minutes of my friggin’ life!
Mateo limped toward us, with Ant cheering him on at his side. Teo fist-bumped Big Chris and lifted a screaming Noelle into a one-armed hug. Dee he hugged full out as she wrapped her arms around his neck. When she released him, she had tears in her eyes. “Thank you, Teo,” I heard her say as she wiped her cheeks.