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“Here.I don’t know who pissed you off but the way you took it out on anyone who was crazy enough to step in that ring just made me a very rich man for the evening.”
I shook my head at the cash Cannon was trying to hand over. I wasn’t done yet. My muscles ached and I could already feel the bruises surfacing on my abs and chest. No one ever touched my face. I wouldn’t let them. A black eye was a lot harder to explain and it wasn’t just Ez who I would be explaining to anymore.
“Take it. You earned it.”
“I will when I’m done. Give me one more fight.”
Cannon’s face tensed and his eyes circled the basement where he was holding the fights this week. The locations changed month after month because cops didn’t like illegal gambling or having to deal with men who got the shit beat out of them because they needed a few extra dollars. I didn’t need the money. I needed the pain.
“If I do, that makes four. You sure you want to do that. You won the rounds but they got some good hits in.”
“You a doctor now?”
Cannon chuckled, shaking his head. His ego was just as expansive as mine. “Nah, I’m not but I do give a shit about you even if you don’t come back in a few weeks.”
“I will after you give me one more.”
“Elias…” He wasn’t feeling it but I didn’t give a damn.
“If I die, no one knows I was here.” I shrugged. “Your name will never come up.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that, but I do give a fuck about having to deal with Ez if you go down.”
“Dump me out back and pretend you don’t know how I got there. Problem solved.”
I wasn’t going down.
I had a feeling he knew that as well but with the slight chance that I did, he didn’t want any parts of it.
“Fuck. Don’t make me regret this. One more and that’s it.”
I tossed my chin and he walked away. I watched him point to me when he reached the table that handled the bets and their eyes shifted with uncertainty but Cannon was the boss so they would do whatever he told them too.
A few seconds later, he offered me a nod then walked away. I shoved my hand into my bag and removed my phone, noticing several missed calls and a text from Cress.
I miss my husband. I wish he was home with me.
I closed my eyes briefly, needing to slow down my thoughts. I had to get this out of me before I granted her wish. Instead of responding, I locked my phone and tossed it back into my bag, bouncing my knee while I waited for the next fight to be called.
About another ten minutes passed before I heard my name over the rumble of voices shouting at each other with their expectations for the next fight. When my name was called, they erupted into chaos. Three fights were pushing it. Four was suicide by any sane terms.
I wasn’t sane.
When I stepped up on the platform I kept my expression blank, void of emotions. There was no cage or fancy ring. Just wood shoved together to elevate the fighters enough to be viewed by everyone in the building. It also made it easier for Cannon to break things down and move to a new location when necessary.
“You sure you want to fight me. You’ve been lucky so far. That luck might have just run out.” He was cocky. His ego was driving him but that was no match for what was driving me.
My need to feel pain.
My need to remember that I was still here even if I didn’t always feel like I deserved to be.
“It should have been you, not him.”
“You should talk less.”
His lips curled into an arrogant snarl.
While the moderator rattled off the rules, I focused on my opponent. I didn’t know him. Hadn’t seen him before that I could remember but that wasn’t unusual. People traveled for these fights. Cannon brought in a big crowd who wagered high bets.
