Chapter Forty-Two
LIAM
The flight to Vegas was uneventful. We were delayed for three hours due to mechanical issues, and as I sat there and waited, all I could think about was the look on Maddie’s face when I left.
By the time we landed, I’d asked myself a hundred times if I’d actually lost my mind because it feels like I have.
I’m on edge and ready to get this all over with but have to wait nearly twenty-four hours before I can meet up with JJ.
That’s when I’ll know where the fight is taking place.
It’s hush-hush so the cops aren’t tipped off before the fight starts.
The mob doesn’t want any trace that an underground fight ring exists.
Tyler’s told me how much money is on the line, and if I win, JJ will walk away a very rich man. He’ll make ten times as much as I lost, and we’ll finally be even.
After we Uber to Tyler’s house and grab his truck, we check into a hotel on the outskirts of town.
Tyler takes a few phone calls outside of the room trying to figure out who my opponent is because it’s still a mystery.
There are details about the guy, but no name, which has him concerned, given the circumstances of this fight.
At this point, I don’t think it matters who it is, just that I beat the fuck out of him.
I should be fighting to kill, but I’d rather not take someone’s life if I can win by just knocking him out.
After I get in the ring though, and realize it’s my head or his, I’m sure my opinion will change. I’m already wound up so fucking tight that I can barely sit still.
Tyler talks with someone in the hallway, but I can’t make out what he’s saying. The call ends, and he walks inside, looking me up and down as I stare blankly at the TV.
“You need to carb up, hydrate, then get some rest.”
“Any info?” I ask curiously.
“Not yet. I’m working on it, though. I have a feeling that something more is going on.” Tyler sits on the edge of the other bed.
“We’re talking about the O’Learys. Of course there’s more going on. Wouldn’t surprise me in the least.” I shrug, and Tyler gets up and walks toward the door. “C’mon, I’m starving.”
Tyler drives us to a pizzeria and forces me to eat half of an extra-large thin crust. We’re mostly silent as we sit together, neither of us knowing what to say. I load up on pizza and bread. Then on the way to the hotel, we stop, and he forces me to eat plenty of fruit and drink tons of water.
“Hydration is key so you don’t get fatigued or muscle cramps,” he explains as we haul everything up to our room.
Although I’m full as fuck, I do what he says, because winning tomorrow is the only option I’m considering.
If Tyler told me to balance on my head for an hour, then do forty jumping jacks in order to be a better fighter, I’d do it.
“I have to meet with JJ around five,” I remind Tyler before I go into the bathroom to take a shower.
“I know,” he tells me, and it seems he has something more to say but doesn’t.
The next day, I can’t get Maddie off my mind.
I miss her so much and am worried about how she’s taking this.
I imagine she’s a mess, and it drives me crazy that we’re in this situation.
I eat, then rest most of the morning. But all I want to do is call and talk to her, but Tyler has told me it’s best to wait so I don’t get distracted.
However, not talking to her is distracting.
Emotions are high and being in a different place mentally isn’t good for the ring.
Considering I had a dream about her last night when I told her goodbye forever, I’ve been knocked off my axis. However, I’m trying to allow it to fuel me to get through this.
Shortly before five o’clock, Tyler and I head over to JJ’s penthouse, where he’s dressed in a tuxedo and wearing a shit-eating grin.
We’re checked for weapons before we’re allowed to fully enter the room.
His cocky attitude is still intact, and I’m two seconds from clocking him right between the eyes when he looks at me.
The two guys standing in the corner of the room packing guns stop me, though.
“You ready to make me a rich fucking man?” JJ asks.
Tyler stands to the side with his arms crossed, observing it all, but the disdain he has for JJ is written all over his face.
“Just give me the goddamn address,” I demand, my patience waning.
JJ crosses the room and goes to a wet bar, then pours himself a drink.
My heart rate increases, and I can feel my pulse throbbing in my neck.
With every passing second, I’m becoming more feral, angrier, and more agitated.
After he sips his scotch on the rocks, he grabs a slip of paper and a pen from the counter and scribbles.
He walks toward me and folds it in half before handing it over.
“Losing isn’t an option if you don’t wanna die,” he warns, and I snatch it from his grasp and walk toward the door. Tyler follows me.
“I fucking hate that guy,” I seethe as we step onto the elevator and go to the bottom floor.
“Me too. I’m sure there’s a club we can join. He’ll eventually cross the wrong person,” Tyler suggests with a shrug. “Guys like that usually get what’s coming to them.”
“We can only hope.” We step out and go to the truck. Once inside, Tyler programs in the address. Tyler starts the engine, and instead of putting it in drive, he looks at me.
“If you’re gonna back out, now is the time.”
I tilt my head at Tyler. “They’ll never let me be free if I do that.” I’ll always be on the run, and that’s no life for Maddie.”
“You’re right, but giving you the option,” he says.
“This is my only option,” I tell him assertively.
During the drive, I text Maddie, wanting her to know how much I love her.
Losing means losing her forever, and that thought will be what drives me forward tonight.
So much rides on me being able to walk away from all of this.
After twenty minutes, we turn into an area with rows of metal buildings.
It looks like it’s a bunch of old storage warehouses in an industrial area.
Tyler parks as close as he can but is still a distance away.
“Every single person who walks through the door is being searched, so no guns get inside. We should probably try to enter another way so no one sees you beforehand.” He unbuckles, pulls his cell phone from his pocket, and checks it, then tucks it inside.
“They’re gonna let us walk in, no problem?” I ask, confused.
He grins, grabbing the duffel bag he packed with extra towels, tape, and water. “Everyone knows who you are, Liam. They’re expecting you.”
A chill runs down the length of my spine, and I swallow. “I guess they are.”
We get out of the truck and walk the distance.
On the other side, there’s an entrance that’s being guarded by a dude who looks like he could crush bones with his bare hands.
I’m a big guy, but compared to him, I’m small.
After a rough pat down, we’re allowed inside, which is nothing more than a long, low-lit hallway with doors on either side.
Tyler leads us forward, and I can’t help but randomly turn around and check behind us. It’s creepy as fuck being in this building that smells like engine oil and dirt.
Voices travel down the hallway, and soon, the noise from the crowd becomes more audible.
We continue forward until the hallway opens to a large arena.
The lighting is still shit, and puffs of smoke from cigarettes linger in the air.
I see the ring that’s protected by crowd-control barricades to ensure no one gets in the ring who isn’t supposed to.
Folding chairs surround it, while most of the room stands, giving the onlookers the perfect view to watch someone die.
Tyler scans the crowd and lifts his hand in a wave. A minute later, a guy with blond hair and green eyes comes over to us. This must be who Tyler has been getting intel from. He looks Irish like he’s related to the O’Learys.
“Lance,” Tyler says, giving him a hard pat on the back.
The guy shakes my hand, then looks back and forth between us.
“What have you found out?” Tyler asks.
“Not much. I’ve heard rumors.”
My face contorts. “About what?”
“Who you’ll be fighting,” Lance confirms.
“Why?” I shake my head. “Does it matter?”
Lance shrugs. “I guess it doesn’t since you’re prepared to fight anyway. But apparently, a nickname was used, so those who were betting would know who your opponent was.”
“When will we know for sure if it’s him?” Tyler asks, and I suspect he has an idea who I’ll be up against, but I don’t give a fuck. It doesn’t matter because I’m already committed.
“Right before the fight starts, we’ll know. I gotta go, though. Good luck,” Lance says, then walks away.
I can tell Tyler is annoyed by this fact, but I’m not at all shocked.
“Do you want me to tell you what I know?” he asks.
“No,” I tell him, not wanting anything to mess with my current mentality.
When it comes to the O’Learys, they can’t be trusted anyway.
They do what benefits them, lying and manipulating people, treating them like puppets.
But my patience is steadily waning. I check the time and notice we have a little over thirty minutes before this party gets started.
Tyler leads me to an empty room and unzips his duffel bag, then pulls out tape and water, forcing me to drink.
“Bare-knuckle boxing. Gotta love it.” I grunt, and the sarcasm isn’t lost on him.
“Street fighting at its finest.” He takes my hands and securely wraps my knuckles and wrists.
While he’s doing so, he coaches me. “Don’t take your eyes off him.
Be swift on your feet. Look for the opportunity of weakness.
Every person will let down their guard at some point, and that’s when you pounce. You’re ready for this.”
“I am ready. I have so much fucking pent-up aggression I might knock the guy out with the first punch.”
Tyler chuckles. “Good. Do that, and the fight will be over.”