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There’s a hard edge to his eyes as he takes in my clenched fists. "There’s a bookie who takes all the bets in house when you arrive. If you’re wanting to place a bet that is. If you’re there to fight, you just show up, tell them you want to be included in the pot.”
Easy enough. I just can’t risk knowledge of me fighting at Blackthorn getting out and back to my father. It would be another black stain on his so-called perfect image.
I reach for the kid closest to me, and grip onto the lapels of his shirt giving him a little shake. I need to make it very clear what will happen if these two squeak to anyone.
"No one hears about this. Understand? If either of you speak a word about this conversation not only will I make sure the cops know about this event but I’ll ruin your fucking lives."
I look between the two of them, and even though I’m not touching the other guy his gaze is filled with freight as well. Good. They both nod and I release the kid like he’s the plague, giving him a shove before wiping my hand off on the front of my shorts. I head back into the locker room, grab my duffel bag, and jacket then jog out of the gym.
Using my phone, I order one of the ride app cars. It's dark but early so I have no trouble getting a car and heading out to Blackthorn University. It shouldn't take long to find the fights if what the assholes told me is right. Blackthorn and Oakmount have always had a long standing rivalry of sorts. They’re a school for the offspring of the elite, just like Oakmount. Everyone wants to send their kids to these schools but have no clue the dark, fucked up shit that takes place behind the scenes.
The website might show a wholesome, fun, top tier university but once the sun goes down things are far from wholesome. I get another ping on my phone from Bel but again, I ignore it. Not because I don't want to talk to her but because I want to talk to her too much.
All or nothing still rings in my ears and I'm not ready to show her everything yet. Especially with this new information I’ve learned. How do I tell her my father is the one who killed her mother? Slowly. Painfully. But it's his fault and now he's trying to do it to my mother too. I won't fucking allow it.
All of this bullshit over money. How many people has he killed just to hang on to the numbers in his bank account?
I clench my fists, some of the anger spiraling through me tighter. Yes, I need to break someone's face, that will make me feel better.
When we reached the abandoned Sears center I hop out of the car, tuck my hands into my pockets, and wander in the direction of voices. It doesn't take me long to find it, like the kid said, it's a damn party out here. They aren't even trying to hide it. Interesting. I wonder who is running this and how I might get involved if I need this in the future.
I cut through the small crowd outside. There’s people smoking, conversing, drinking beer, and even some who are merely standing there surveying the crowd. I spot one guy standing at the edge of the crowd.
He's a big dude but I meet his menacing gaze head-on. "I want to fight."
Carefully, he drops his gaze, sizing me up from boot to brow. "Oakmount's golden boy wants to get his hands dirty with us? Should we be honored?"
I narrow my eyes. "I don't care what the fuck you are, or who the fuck you are. I came here for a fight so if you aren’t the person I talk to about one then this conversation is over.”
There's a murmuring voice in his earpiece. I barely pick up the buzz but I can't make out the words. "Fine, be in the circle at nine. I'll make sure we put on a good show."
"Rules?"
His eyes narrow this time. "You don't seem like the type that follows rules."
I shrug. "When it benefits me, I do, sure."
"Don't kill each other is about the only rule. Unfortunately death is difficult to cover up and comes with a lot of paperwork. Now fuck off."
I smile, all white teeth, and back away toward the circle and the sound of pounding of flesh on flesh.
The crowd is a mix of upper class in my circles, upper class and legal circles I suppose, and lower class, who are mostly the fighters and what looks like bookies by the way they holler at the crowd and toss cash around.
While waiting I keep my eyes peeled for anyone I might know, or anyone I should know. Thankfully I don’t recognize anyone here, but that doesn't mean there isn’t someone who won’t go running to my father when they discover who I am.
My attention swings back to the ring. It’s small, and only delineated by an LED circle on the floor marking the boundary and lighting up the fighters in a red hazy glow.
Blood splatters back on the opponents and I can't help but stare, my adrenaline spiking, anticipation curling deep in my gut.
I spot one of the Blackthorn football players across the circle and shoot him the bird. He took down Lee in one of our games this season and all of us have had our eye on him for payback. I wonder if this will be my lucky opportunity.
His knuckles are wrapped, he’s in basketball shorts and a tank top. His features are tight, and serious while I'm still in my henley, jacket, and jeans. I don't need to change to kick his fucking ass into the hard-packed dirt.
It feels like it takes forever but eventually the guy I spoke to steps into the circle, his eyes search the crowd and when they land on me he nods, his head and waves me in. The second I step over the line the football player I'd been watching wanders into the circle with a smirk.
"What do we have here? A little far from home, aren't you Marshall?"
I shrug and study him, looking for any signs of weakness, anything that might give an edge or advantage.
