Shit, now I sound like Pandora.
The guy rolls his eyes. “Funny. Anyway, it’s a private party. Get lost.”
“I’m invited.” I hold out my phone to show Fenrir’s text. “Fenrir wants me here.”
“Oh, well ifFenrirwants you…” The guy crosses his arms. “You still need to fuck off.”
What was the point of me coming out here if I’m not even allowed through the front door? I shoot a text to Fenrir and go to sit down on the steps. While I wait, two other people walk past me. One of them’s a large guy with bulging muscles, with a woman glued to his side. The bouncer doesn’t even say a word as he lets them into the building.
What the fuck kind of place is this anyway?
Finally, the front door opens and Fenrir peeks his head out.
“River! Why are you just hanging around here?” Fenrir asks. He glares at the bouncer. “Did you really keep River out? Do you know who he is?”
“Some clean-ass kid who thinks this is the kind of place you bring boxing gloves to?” the bouncer responds. “He doesn’t belong here.”
“No, he definitely belongs here.” Fenrir grins. “But Chip’s right. You don’t need those gloves here. If you’re worried about breaking things or blood flying, maybe go home after all.”
“You wouldn’t have invited me here if you thought I’d care about that,” I retort, getting up.
No, I don’t give a fuck about breaking bones or seeing blood spilling to the ground. I’ve become too inured to all of that from a life wrought of violence and pain, and the idea of coming somewhere that no one else gives a fuck about gloves or safety has my adrenaline spiking already.
Chip the bouncer rolls his eyes, but he finally steps aside to let me in.
The first thing I notice is how warm it is inside. It’s louder too, the distinct sound of crowds cheering filtering through the walls.
“Do you gamble?” Fenrir asks. “If you tell me who you want to bet on, I can get things sorted.”
Before I can answer, we reach the main hall.
It’s a large room, maybe once used as a dance floor. Now it has a fight cage in the center, with crowds of people standing around it, cheering on the fighters.
The two in the cage are going at each other with bare fists. Every blow is met with cheers and boos. An announcer commentates on the match, adding glib one-liners as the fighters take each other on.
I glance over at Fenrir. He’s not dressed to spectate, but I don’t see any bruises on him.
“You know I didn’t drive out here to watch other people beat the shit out of each other,” I tell him. My fingers tighten on the gloves I’d brought with me, but I’m already ready to ditch them and get my hands dirty. “Where do I sign up to fight?”
Fenrir grins widely. “Fuck yeah. Let’s do this.” He leads me through the crowds and towards a table near the far wall.
The big guy I’d seen coming in earlier is there too, signing a form of some sort.
“Fenrir. You’re up soon,” the woman by the table says. “Who’s your friend?”
“River. He’s not as good as me, but he’ll give anyone else here a run for their money,” Fenrir says.
I roll my eyes. The only reason Fenrir has any edge over me is that he’s in a different weight class. “Yeah,” I say. “I want in.”
Ineedin.
I need relief from the thoughts of Franklin and Pandora and my father, from the grief and the jealousy and the shame, and what better way to do it than to pummel someone else until they yield?
Yeah. I guess I really am like my old man.
“Okay. It’s twenty bucks to enter. You get thirty for every opponent you beat.” The woman holds out her hand.
I fumble for my wallet so I can shove the twenty at her.
