“Fuckin’ good fight. And I’m gonna give you a solid ten percent for the tip,” Goldie said as he counted out two hundred dollars. “And these chicks shaking their asses are giving me a goddamn hard-on.” He laughed as he put the bills into Diablo’s hand.
“How the hell can you stand there and not be affected by these chicks?” Chains asked.
“When you see something a lot, it doesn’t affect you. That’s how people get used to the shitty stuff in their lives—it becomes routine.”
“Damn. That’s some heavy shit for a Saturday night,” Chain said.
“The only thing missing is booze.” Goldie leaned into Diablo. “You don’t have some beer stashed somewhere, do you?”
Diablo chuckled. “No. You’re gonna have to wait until you get back to the clubhouse. These fights usually go until midnight. Promoters don’t want them to end too late because they don’t want to attract the badges or anything.”
Army and Muerto came over, bumping fists with Diablo. “Tonight’s even better than last week,” Army said. “The fighters are better.” He jumped in the air, kicking out his leg. “This shit gets me all pumped up! It’s like a goddamn drug. I swear I’m gonna sign up to do one of these fights. I’m ready to go now.”
“I don’t think Steel would like that. You better run it by him before you enter the ring,” Muerto said. “But I know what you mean about the rush. My adrenaline’s been pumping since the first round started. I’m itching to smash something too.”
The lights blinked on and off three times. “Time to get back. Later, dude,” Goldie said to Diablo as they all raised their fists in the air.
During the next session of combats, Diablo kept scanning the room like he’d done ever since the first fight started, but Fallon was gone. It was like she’d hidden herself away from him, but he knew she was somewhere close. He could feel her gaze on him.
On his second scan of the room, his gaze caught a flash of red with yellow and black lettering on the back of a tall guy’s leather vest. Unfolding his arms, he walked in closer to the crowd until he could see what was on it. His muscles stiffened when he read “Satan’s Pistons MC” in red and yellow colors. A few others with the same cuts and logo flocked around the tall guy, screaming and cussing at the combatants in the ring.
They must’ve come in when I was out back helping Jose. Fuck. I gotta tell my brothers.
As he made his way through the crowd, he heard a group of people screaming. He spun around and saw Army and Chains punching it out with two Satan’s Pistons members.
Guess they know they’re here.
Then all hell broke loose.
