22. Ariyan
ARIYAN
“W-what is this place?” the clueless idiot muttered from behind me.
“Isn’t it obvious?” I said, not looking away from the cage. “It’s a fighting ring.”
Still lingering behind, he didn’t take the few steps forward to join me by the railing. Amused, I glanced at him over my shoulder. “What’s the matter, Mr. Rivas? I thought you, of all people, would be familiar with the sport.”
Only then did he snap out of his shock, his eyes meeting mine. “Sport? This isn’t sport,” he hissed, jaw rigid. “This is illegal fighting, isn’t it? Those people there, they’re—”
“Criminals,” I cut in, lips stretched in a slight smile. “Same as you.”
Pure fury crossed his eyes, making them seem like blue flames.
“Screw you.”
“Wouldn’t you want that?”
He averted his stare, the blush on his cheeks not escaping me.
What a fool.
“Don’t you want to watch the fight?” I offered, making room for him beside me.
“No.”
“Your loss.”
I turned back to face the cage and the crowd cheering for blood.
Watching from the private stall made it much easier, as I didn’t need to be part of the fuss.
Tonight’s fighters were mediocre at best, not worthy of my money, but still an enjoyable act, especially now as one of the fighters had broken the other’s leg in an illegal move, causing the crowd to roar.
“Are there no rules in here?” he asked, voice tight.
“No rules, no laws, no dignity.” I kept my eyes on the fighter, who was screaming in pure agony while holding on to his broken leg. “People come here to bet and see blood. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“And you call this a sport?” he hissed.
“I call it a calculated risk.”
He finally moved to stand beside me. “The hell are you on about?”
I nudged my head in the direction of the cage, watching how the other fighter proceeded to beat the injured one.
“Those fighters… whatever you choose to call them, you think any of them care for sport? They’re here for the violence, for the rush and adrenaline, while I’m here to make money.” I turned to look at him, eyes locking with his. “And you, you’re going to help.”
“What—”
A loud shout pierced the air, and his eyes darted back to the ring. He seemed horrified by what he’d just seen, but not caring for what went on there, I kept staring at him—my new betting horse.
“Five fights. That’s all I’m asking,” I said, grabbing his attention back.
“You’re nuts.”
“I think it’s a fair offer, considering it’s either that or your life.”
His eyes filled with fear.
“You said you seek forgiveness, didn’t you? So here I am, offering it to you on a silver platter in exchange for doing what you do best.” A memory flashed before my eyes, forcing my lips into a smile. “And you are the best when it comes to fighting like a brainless dog.”
Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “I-I can’t do this.”
“Why not?”
“I’m trying to be better.” He barely spoke the words.
“Fine, do that. Be better. But not before you earn my forgiveness.”
“You don’t get it,” he snapped. “I-it’s not that simple.”
Turning away from him, I placed my hands on the rails and looked down at the people cheering from below. What a pack of sheep, unaware they were cheering for their own doom.
“What you don’t seem to understand is that you owe me, Mr. Rivas.
You owe me for what you did to me three years ago, and I’m giving you a rare chance to pay off your debt.
An easy way out.” I clenched the railing tighter until my knuckles went numb.
“So stop being a righteous fool and say yes before I change my mind.”
“Why do you need me to fight to begin with?”
“My reasoning is none of your business.” My lips twitched as I found myself getting irritated by his audacity to ask questions.
“I think I have the right to know if I’m going to risk my life for you.”
“Your life?” I turned to face him, disgust carrying through my voice. “I own your life.”
His expression hardened, jaw going tight and brows creasing.
And in those fleeting seconds, I couldn’t pretend not to enjoy his eyes.
Eyes the color of a blue moon, filled with hate I longed to control and hope I wished to obliterate.
Whenever something powerful crossed my path, I felt an overwhelming urge to destroy it, to watch it fall and crumble beneath my feet.
And he, as stupid as he might be, was raw power.
Whether it was his annoying persistence or ignorant stubbornness that infuriated me to the point I felt sick, he was strong. Strong enough to be of use.
“You asked me why I didn’t kill you, didn’t you? Well, I planned on doing it. In fact, I almost did when you managed to beat up those fools I paid to do it.”
His head jerked back, eyes narrowing. “The carjacking. It was you?”
Bored, I stared at my nails. “Not my best plan, I’ll admit. But watching you beat those guys to a pulp made me see your true potential and spare you from a fate similar to your friends.”
“They were never my friends,” he hissed.
“I don’t care.” I looked up, unfazed by his clear annoyance. “What I care about is you paying back what you owe me.”
Holding my stare, he kept his head high, not backing down.
“Five fights?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m free?”
“Free as a bird to ruin the rest of your life as you please.”
“Fuck you.”
“Not in a hundred lifetimes.”
A vein popped on the side of his neck, and he stepped closer. “You son of a—”
“Watch your mouth.”
He tsked, then took a deep breath.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
I smiled until he opened his mouth again.
“On one condition.”
“You think you’re in a position to demand things?”
“Just hear me out.”
I rolled my eyes. “Go ahead.”
“If I fight for you, I want you to promise to delete those videos of me. The ones where I take drugs and get drunk.”
Is that seriously what this fool wants? Was he aware that just participating in a fight here was a worse crime than those he’d already committed?
“Fine.”
His face lit up. “Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck yeah!” He fisted his hands, unaware of what he’d just agreed to.
That was the core problem of this idiot. He never thought ahead. He sought momentary solutions to complicated problems. Same as saying he’d do anything in return for me sparing his life, he didn’t take into account the consequences of his words.
“Please,” I cried, blood choking my throat. “P-please, I don’t want to die.”
“Nobody wants to die.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, tears rolling down my cheeks, before I opened them to stare at him.
“I-I’ll do anything.”
He crouched down, using a finger to trace the trail my tear left. “Anything?”
With my last strength, I nodded.
“Yes. A-anything. J-just please, save me.”
“Well, who am I to refuse such an offer?”
Brushing this memory away, I stared at the moron, who still seemed awfully pleased.
“We’ll meet here again next week. Same day, same time. Be sure not to be late,” I said, ignoring the sudden turmoil that went through me, making my skin ice-cold.
“Sure. Anything else?”
I shook my head, trying to ignore the metallic taste filling my mouth.
“No. I’ll take care of all the necessary things. All you need to do is stay alive and be here on time.”
I turned to walk away, but as I passed by him, I stopped.
“On second thought, there’s one thing you could do.”
“What?”
“That awful smell of peaches,” I snarled, lips twisting with disgust. “Get rid of it.”
I didn’t bother to stay one more second in his presence and instead got out of there. But not even the fresh air and the scent of the nearby ocean were enough to make the stench go away, and I found myself lost in bad memories.
Irritated, I glanced up at the sky. It was a new moon tonight, perhaps signaling the start of a new beginning—one that could finally lead to an end.
However, I was probably placing too much hope in that imbecile.
A man-child who was incapable of saving himself, let alone me, as strength by itself meant nothing.
Still, if I played my cards right and manipulated him to my needs, I might have just found my way out of this hell.
A chance, as slim as it may be, was still a chance, and in my life, I’d learned to seize whatever opportunity was tossed my way and hold on tightly, even if it seemed hopeless. And that’s exactly what Santiago Rivas was.
A hopeless coincidence.