Dark Horse

by Wilde, Rhea

  “Line’em up,” he said. “Homicide… Henry here will beat’em up. I’ve seen it myself. He can beat anybody you throw at him.”

  “Is that right?” Lanea said. “All right. I’ve got a fighter in the ring right now. What do you say, Henry?”

  “He’ll whoop that guy’s ass is what he says,” Maxwell said to her.

  “Good,” Lanea said. “Step into The Pit when you’re ready.”

  Maxwell grabbed my arm and pulled me off to the side. I looked at Lanea as she took a seat back upon her throne. Octavio stood rigidly right next to her.

  “Now listen here, Henry,” he said to me. “You go down in there and beat that dude up. This is nothing different. I’m going to put everything we made so far on you. We’ll get better odds here because nobody knows who you are. You put on a show tonight and you’re going home a rich man, you hear me?”

  “Yeah…”

  I looked down and watched as the unconscious man was dragged through an exit. The other fighter was standing there and stretching himself out, patiently waiting for me to join him.

  “Yo, Henry,” Maxwell said to me. “Are you listening to me?”

  I turned back to him and nodded. He put his hands on my shoulders and tried to get me to focus.

  “Everything you’ve been doing so far has been leading up to this. I made you a promise. This is your chance.”

  I nodded again and Maxwell released me from his grip. He stood over the railing and looked down into the arena. I slowly descended the stairs to get a better look at the man I was about to fight. Then I turned and looked back up at Lanea. She sat there upon her throne while she spoke to an old man leaning down next to her. While she spoke to him, I could see her looking back at me. Whatever she was saying didn’t matter though. I knew what I had to do.

  Chapter 8 - Lanea

  I watched as Fabian stretched himself out in the center of the pit. Henry stood calmly across from him. He turned his head and looked at me.

  “What do you think?” I asked Octavio. “Do you think he’s got what it takes?”

  “Fabian’s been on a winning streak, Ms. Zara. I’ve never heard of this other guy before. He doesn’t look like a fighter.”

  “He doesn’t. But he does look like he can handle himself.”

  I turned to Francis, who was patiently waiting for me to respond.

  “What do you think, Francis?” I asked. “What kind of odds are you giving?”

  “Everybody’s been betting on Fabian,” he replied. “This guy… This new kid. What’s his name?”

  “Henry.”

  “Henry. Okay. He looks a little young to be in the ring. Fabian doesn’t look like he could be beat right now. I don’t know… Five-to-one odds on Henry.”

  “Five-to-one?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  I looked back down into the pit and considered my options. There comes a time in every woman’s life when she has to make a decision like this. I had a great time with Fabian these past two days. But sometimes the fun in a relationship isn’t enough to keep it going. Sometimes you just have to move on.

  “Two-thousand on Henry,” I said to Francis.

  “Really?” he asked me. “You want to bet on the dark horse? Are you sure you know what you’re—”

  Francis stopped himself before he continued. He must have noticed that my attention had wandered. Fabian continued to stretch himself out in the ring. Henry stood there calmly like he had been this entire time. I thought about it for only a second. I knew what I was doing.

  “Do it,” I said.

  “As you wish, Ms. Zara.”

  Francis nodded then made his way back into the throngs of people. He took all of their money and wrote down all of their bets. The crowd was eager with anticipation. I could feel their anxiety growing as we neared the fight. I wasn’t anxious though. I had a feeling about Henry. I’ve had men like Fabian come here and impress the crowds but Henry didn’t look like he had any business in this part of town. The way he stood there was so composed and so calm.

  I leaned back in my chair and watched as the two men in the ring finally acknowledged one another. They nodded and raised their fists up. Fabian moved much more swiftly than Henry. He was light on his feet. He was dancing around. He threw a punch and Henry was unable to react. His head snapped back and he responded with a punch of his own but Fabian had already moved out of the way. It happened again and again. Fabian began moving around the ring with the swiftness of the wind. Henry was unable to respond in kind.

  A cut opened up over Henry’s eyebrow. The blood streamed down the side of his face. While Fabian bounced around on his toes, Henry plodded around with his fists up. Fabian was too fast and too quick for him. The crowd cheered at the punishment that Henry was taking. He remained standing though. That’s all that mattered.

  “He’s not looking too good in there, Ms. Zara,” Octavio pointed out to me.

  “Shut up. I can see that for myself.”

  I was beginning to grow more frustrated as the fight continued. The only thing Henry had demonstrated at this point was his ability to take a punch. For whatever reason, he stopped throwing his own punches. With the fight seemingly in hand, Fabian began to circle around the ring and enjoy the adulation of the crowd. The cheered him on as he held his fists in the air and screamed back at them. Henry remained defiant at the adversity in front of him. I looked over at Maxwell and he turned to me. I could see the stress on his face, his throat shifting as he gulped.

  Come on, Henry. Don’t let me down now.

  A line of blood streamed down the side of Henry’s face like war paint. His fists remained up but he wasn’t using them. Fabian began to swiftly move in and out, peppering him with shots against his face and body. I leaned forward in my seat, waiting for any type of response from Henry. Fabian had grown so comfortable in the ring that he lowered his hands. He stuck his chin out and taunted Henry. Henry didn’t take a swing at him. The crowd started to grow restless at Henry’s seemingly inexperienced display.

  “I don’t think he’s a fighter,” Octavio said to me.

  “He’s holding back,” I replied. “I can see it in his eyes.”

  “Well, then, what is he waiting for?”

  “I don’t know. But he hasn’t gone down yet. He’s up to something.”

  Fabian looked bored as he continued to pummel Henry with light punches. He wasn’t using as much effort as he was initially. Both of them were covered in sweat even though Fabian was spending much more energy.

  Fabian turned his attention back to the crowd and raised his arms up in victory.

  “It’s time to end this!” he shouted.

  The crowd roared with enthusiasm. Fabian turned back to Henry, who was still standing there and waiting with his fists up. Fabian reared back and loaded up his punch. He swung. Henry finally reacted. He caught the fist in mid-flight and sent back a punch of his own. Henry’s fist collided with Fabian’s jaw. His head rotated sideways on his neck. Then his body fell lifeless onto the ground like a marionette that had its strings cut. The crowd gasped in unison. I instinctively jumped out of my chair. The arena suddenly became silent.

  Henry stood over Fabian’s unconscious body and looked down at him for a few moments. Fabian wasn’t moving.

  “Yeah!” Maxwell shouted, the silence suddenly broken.

  Maxwell jumped up and down in his place, the only person in the entire building who was celebrating. I stood there in slight shock as Henry slowly ascended the stairs toward me. Behind him, security picked the unconscious Fabian up and took him away.

  “Excellent bet, Ms. Zara,” Octavio whispered to me.

  “Of course,” I replied.

  The crowd started to disappear as Maxwell and Henry took their place back in front of me. Francis returned and began to pay Maxwell his money. I stared at Henry and he looked back at me, the look of intensity still on his face. The blood was dripping down his face and onto his now sweaty shirt.

 
“Oh yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” Maxwell jumped up and down as he started counting his money. “What did I tell you, Lanea? Can this guy fight or can this guy fight?”

  I continued staring at Henry. There was a grin developing on my face. There was something about Henry that made me giddy inside. He was a good-looking man. Too good-looking to be a fighter. He had a strong, sharp jaw. His brown hair was messy on his head. He had these mesmerizing brown eyes that matched his tan complexion. I could see his broad shoulders bulging from his shirt. But it was more than that. He had an air about him. With the blood dripping off of his face and the sweat covering his body, Henry seemed to maintain the dignity I had noticed when he first walked in.

  “Congratulations on your first victory in The Pit,” I said to Henry. “The first of many, I hope.”

  He didn’t respond. He only clenched his teeth as he looked at me. He finally turned his attention to Maxwell, who was still counting his money and enjoying what was undoubtedly the biggest payday he’d had in years.

  “And your winnings,” Francis said to me as he held a stack of ten-thousand dollars out to me.

  “Yes, Octavio please take care of the money,” I said. “Maxwell, I’d like to speak to your fighter. In private. Octavio will take care of you until then.”

  Maxwell and Henry looked at one another before Maxwell took a few steps back.

  “Uh… sure,” he said. “I’m sure you’ve got some business to discuss. Henry, you make sure you get that cut taken care of. Lanea’s got the skills to handle that.”

  I watched Octavio disappear with Maxwell back toward the elevator.

  “Follow me, Henry.”

  I turned around and headed back into my den behind the fighting arena. I sashayed in the only way I could, hoping that he would notice how well my dress looked against my body. We finally got inside of my room but Henry continued to stand there sternly.

  “Have a seat,” I said to him as I pointed at a nearby chair.

  He didn’t comply. I began to chuckle and shake my head.

  “You’re bleeding,” I said. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you or do anything else. I have no reason to. You made me a lot of money tonight.”

  He finally did as he was told, taking a seat on a couch in front of a nearby table.

  “You know, you had everybody fooled in there for a second,” I said as I searched the cabinet near the bar for a first-aid kit. “You were taking all of those punches and not responding.”

  “I was just waiting for the right opportunity,” he replied.

  “Yes. That’s what I like to hear. Everybody thinks fighting is just about who hits the hardest or who can take the most punches. It’s not about the strongest or most athletic. You have to use your head, too.”

  I took a seat next to Henry as he sat there calmly. I removed the glove from one of my hands and put my hand up to his face. He jerked his head back and I had to reassure him once again.

  “I just want to see how bad that cut is,” I said. “Trust me.”

  He stared hard at me as he slowly moved his head near my hand. I placed my hand against his face and looked closer at the cut.

  “It’s not that bad,” I said. “It only opened up because it’s on the bone. That should heal on its own. But we still have to stop the bleeding.”

  I reached into the first-aid kit and swabbed the blood with some alcohol. After I wiped the blood from his face, I placed the bandage over the cut and pressed it down.

  “That should do it,” I said. “It might take a few days but it will heal.”

  “Good,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll be leaving now.”

  I grabbed his hand and pulled him back down to the couch.

  “No, please,” I said. “Sit. We have some business to discuss.”

  “We have no business to discuss.”

  “I think we do, Henry. I can see it in your eyes. You’re special. Fighters like you don’t come around very often.”

  “I’m not a fighter.”

  “Fine. You’re not a fighter. Call yourself whatever you want. But whatever it is you want to call yourself, I can make you a very rich man. Do you know how much money you made tonight?”

  “I don’t care. I’ve made enough.”

  I was beginning to grow frustrated. I’d never met a man who didn’t care about the money I was offering him.

  “I can offer you more fights,” I said to him. “You can make a lot more money. From the looks of your clothes, it doesn’t seem like you’re making very much.”

  “Tonight was enough.”

  “But you can do better. Don’t you understand that? I can—”

  “I don’t care. I’m not interested in fighting any longer.”

  I couldn’t help but sigh. I stood up from my chair and looked down at him. I gave him a seductive smile as I narrowed my eyes.

  “You know, Henry,” I said. “It’s not often that men get the opportunity to meet a millionaire, let alone Lanea Zara in the flesh. This isn’t just about money. I’m offering you a tremendous opportunity. One that other men would fight and die for.”

  I reached for the straps of my dress and slowly lowered them down my arms. I watched his eyes as they remained locked upon me. I grinned at him as I lowered my arms and let the dress fall down the rest of my body.

  “It’s yours, Henry. All of this. All you have to do is say that you want it. What do you say, Henry? Do you want to keep fighting for me so you can enjoy the rewards that come with it?”

  I continued to grin at him, hoping that he would see reason. He stood up from his seat and I waited for him to come closer to me. The smell of the sweat on his handsome face made me want him even more.

  “Go ahead, Henry,” I whispered to him. “Men dream about going down on me and I’m offering it to you now. What do you say?”

  I licked my lips. The anticipation was beginning to drive me insane. I was aching for him to fall upon his knees and please me.

  “My answer is still the same,” he said. “I’m not a fighter. Thank you for the first-aid. I’ll be on my way.”

  He walked around me and made his way for the exit. I let out a frustrated sigh and shouted out to him.

  “Tell Maxwell I want to talk to him,” I yelled at Henry. “You may not be interested but I still have business to discuss with him.”

  Henry exited without replying. I pulled my dress back on my body and let out another exasperated sigh. I went over to the bar and poured myself another glass of champagne. As I gulped down the alcohol, Octavio stepped in through the door with Maxwell.

  “You wanted to talk to me?” Maxwell asked.

  “What the fuck is his problem?” I asked.

  “Um, Henry’s an odd dude. What happened?”

  “Let me make something clear to you,” I said as I walked toward him. “You and I both made a lot of money off of him tonight. But I know that’s not enough for you. I don’t care what it is you have to do. You get in his good graces and get him to fight.”

  “All right,” Maxwell replied. “I’ll talk to him.”

  “Good. Now get out of here. I don’t want to see you back here unless Henry is with you.”

  “Okay, okay…”

  Octavio escorted Maxwell out of my room. Octavio stepped back into the room and I shooed him away as well. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anybody else. I needed to be alone.

  This had never happened before. Nobody had refused my offer for more money. And nobody had turned my body down along with it. I didn’t care what I had to do. I would break Henry open and get him to do what I wanted. He was just like every other man. All I needed to do was figure out exactly what he wanted.

  Chapter 9 - Henry

  I woke up the next morning with a violent knocking in my head. I groaned as I slowly opened my eyes and placed my hand up against my head. As I ran my fingers over the bandage, I was reminded of what happened last night. I’d lost count of how many men I’d put down. The last man managed t
o give me a permanent reminder that this wasn’t the business I belonged in.

  The knocking continued and I realized that it wasn’t just in my head. There was someone at my door. I didn’t know how late I’d slept but it was definitely past my normal bedtime.

  “Just a second,” I shouted.

  When I sat up from my bed, my muscles and my bones were aching. I felt like collapsing back onto the bed but the knocking didn’t stop. I lazily made my way to the front door. I opened the door and there was Maxwell waiting for me, the familiar smile on his face.

  “Hey, what’s going on, Homicide? You don’t look too good.”

  “What do you want, Maxwell? You’re the last person I want to talk to right now.”

  “The last person?”

  “All right, not the last person but you’re not very high on the list. I’m still trying to recover.”

  I sighed as Maxwell walked his way past me. I was too tired to deal with him right now but I was too tired to stop him. He took a seat on the couch and I made my way into the kitchen. I poured myself a glass of water to try and wake myself up while Maxwell quickly made himself at home.

  “What’s going on, Homicide?”

  “What do you want, Maxwell? I know you want to talk business and I’m not in the mood right now. Frankly, I can’t even if I wanted to. I could barely move a muscle—”

  “Hey, now. I’m not gonna put my best fighter out there so he can get beat up. That last fight alone put us over the top. You know how much money you made last night?”

  I looked at the scattered pile of bills on top of my coffee table. They were resting in front of my framed picture of Elsa. I didn’t even remember putting it there, so I definitely didn’t have the time to count it.

  “There should be almost three grand here,” he said to me. “Like I said, you’re probably going to live pretty comfortably for awhile. But this isn’t going to last you forever.”

  “I know. That’s why as soon as I’m feeling better, I’m going to start looking for a job.”

  “Why are you still talking about a job? Don’t you see? You keep winning and you’ll never have to work again. Lanea can—”