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I vaguely remembered the kid being harassed and called names for walking most of the five miles we had to run each morning. Fighting me was probably his punishment.
“Hawkins, get your ass over here,” Ollie called. “My warriors against Danny’s delinquents.” Ollie laughed and held my arm in the air. Danny flashed his middle finger at us.
Great. So I was being used as a tool in their pissing match. At least I understood it better when it was just about placing bets and winning money. This was fucking ridiculous.
“I’ll give you twenty-five percent of whatever I win tonight,” Ollie promised.
I wouldn’t hold my breath.
Focus. Griff said half the battle was mental. I had plenty of experience blocking out the world in order to survive. Except for the physical pain, this wasn’t much different.
“Travis the street hustler versus Hawkins the foster kid!” Danny announced.
How creative.
The bloodthirsty bastards gathered around the ring roared with laughter. Travis came at me fast. For some reason, I expected we’d dance around the ring and size each other up before trading blows. He nailed me with a fist to my side and my jaw.
“Fuck.” I shook off the punches and landed two of my own, to his face and chest.
“Block, Roman!” Eraser yelled.
I dodged a punch, sending Travis teetering forward. He recovered fast and raised his foot. I blocked the kick by snapping my hand around his shoe and yanking his leg high. Off-balance, he hopped on one foot. I pushed and he hit the floor hard. He lay there panting and staring up at the ceiling.
Was the fight over? Could I go back to bed now?
Or was I supposed to jump on top of the kid and punch him unconscious?
I turned, seeking a sign from Ollie.
The second of indecision cost me. Travis wrapped his arms around my legs and tackled me to the floor. Air whooshed out of my lungs but I managed to keep my head from hitting the concrete and rolled to the side, narrowly missing a kick to the ribs.
So that’s how it was.
I jumped to my feet and circled my opponent. Blood dripped from a cut on his forehead and I strangled the guilt that rose over the damage I’d caused. Kill or be killed. No room for remorse.
Travis threw a punch. I ducked left and grabbed his arm, using his momentum to spin him around and put him in a chokehold. Travis struggled. Used his weight to drop us to our knees, but I didn’t let up the pressure.
“Yes!” Ollie shouted.
The second I felt Travis go limp, I shoved him away. He rolled to the side, unconscious but still breathing.
Elation over the win and the relief of finishing my first fight drowned out the shame.
Chapter Forty-Three
Roman
“One more,” Eraser shouted in my face.
I completed the set of Spider-man crunches and jumped to my feet.
“Looking good.”
I grunted in response.
We were both battle-worn. The nights Ollie was on shift, Eraser and I spent in the basement fighting for our lives. The fights became nastier. Bloodier.
The guards during the day shift started to get curious about where all the bruises were coming from. Not that they did anything about it.
And I wasn’t a snitch.
As badly as I wanted to see the guards punished, I knew if I complained, the violence would only get worse.
Winning money for our captors came with its perks. Guards allowed us fuller plates at dinnertime. We were allowed to keep snacks in our room. Someone gave us a proper first-aid kit so we could patch each other up after the fights. Ollie brought us new sneakers, which was dumb, because Eraser always fought barefoot. For chores, we were assigned to laundry, which was the easiest job with the least amount of restriction.
My birthday was coming up. But I’d lost hope that I’d ever be let out of here. Why would they let their cash cow go? I was paranoid they’d tie me up in the basement and tell Ms. Simpson I’d run away or something. I stopped responding to Juliet’s letters. I didn’t know what to say to her anymore. She wrote to me about school and let me know how Pip was doing. All I had to share were stories of my nocturnal reign of terror in a pathetic underground fighting ring.
“My uncle finally got approved,” Eraser said in a lowered voice. “I’m gonna go live with him when I get out of here.”
I set down the medicine ball I’d just picked up. “Seriously? That’s great. When?”
“Don’t know.” He shifted his gaze toward the door. Two other kids wandered into the gym. They froze when they saw us and turned toward the ancient treadmill and Stairmaster. “I don’t want to say anything and have Ollie get wind of it.”
“Someone will tell him.” I gestured toward the camera in the corner. “Guards gossip about everything.”
