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He’s joined in the ring by a mean-looking, dark-haired fighter in black shorts with a tiger tattooed on his back. The crowd cheers for both of them, but when Lasher lifts his fists, the screams are louder and more enthusiastic.
Alecta folds her arms and glowers, but she doesn’t look away from him.
“Do you know Lasher?” I ask.
She makes a dismissive noise. “He was part of Strife when I first started hanging out there. He was always a cocky shit.”
Aren’t they all down at Strife? “It seems like he remembers you.”
“He flirts with anything that moves. I’m not cheering for him tonight. I don’t think you’ll find many people from Strife who will.” She glances at Cassius and then back to me. “But I try and keep my personal feelings out of my work. I hope you enjoy the fight.”
I’m about to ask what Lasher and the Strife men fell out over when a bell rings and everybody screams as the fighters begin circling one another. They fight in flurries of punches and kicks. I can hear them landing and they make me wince, but neither fighter seems to notice the pain.
Despite his muscles, Lasher is light on his feet and viciously fast, but in the third round, his opponent gets him down on the ground and starts twisting his foot. Agony flashes across Lasher’s face.
“He’s going to tap out,” Alecta says sitting forward and gripping her seat. Despite her resolution not to cheer for Lasher, she’s watching him with apprehension.
“He won’t,” Cassius replies.
“What’s tapping out?” I ask.
Cassius leans closer so I can hear him over the crowd. “If a fighter’s had enough, they call out, or tap on the floor or their opponent’s body and the ref ends the fight.”
A moment later, Lasher throws Peril off and drives him viciously into the ground. Then Lasher is behind his opponent and has his elbow around the man’s throat.
Cassius shouts in triumph. “If he can hold this, he’s going to win.”
Alecta has her hands over her mouth now. “Peril needs to tap out.”
“He’s too stubborn. Lasher didn’t tap out so neither will he.”
The seconds tick by agonizingly slow. Finally, the referee rushes in to break up the fight just before Peril passes out, and Lasher is declared the winner.
With sweat pouring down his body, Lasher leaps to his feet with a roar, both fists raised.
The crowd goes nuts. Cassius is shouting louder than anyone. Alecta is applauding and whooping at the top of her lungs. When I catch her eye, she covers it up with a cough and grins at me.
“Fucking superb,” Cassius is shouting while he applauds.
“Need that bathroom break?” Alecta asks me.
“Actually, yes,” I tell her, giving Cassius a quick kiss before walking with Alecta to find the ladies’ bathroom.
We have to wait for a few minutes and then we use the stalls. As we’re washing our hands side by side at the sinks, I say, “I don’t know anything about cage fighting, but I thought Lasher fought pretty well.”
She smiles and smooths down her hair. “He was pretty good. Don’t tell Acid I said that, though,” she adds.
“Never.”
As we’re grinning at each other, there’s a clunk, and all the lights go out. The bathroom is plunged into inky blackness and women gasp in shock. Beyond the door to the bathroom, voices are suddenly raised in panic.
Alecta grabs me in the darkness and takes a firm grip on my hand. “Chiara, is that you?”
I’m surprised by how calm she sounds. My nerves have suddenly shot through the roof. “Yes, it’s me. What’s happening? Do you think it’s the police?”
The police raided one of Cassius’ clubs on opening night a few months ago, but they didn’t cut the power first.
“Possibly,” she says in the same calm tone.
