Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
VORTEX
The VIP seating for the fight is packed, with most of the audience dressed in suits and cocktail dresses like this is a fancy fundraiser and not an MMA match. The pre-match meet-and-greets went off without a hitch, although Seven had been too anxious to get anywhere near the fighters.
I casually stretch out my arm along the back of Seven’s seat. Havoc glares at me when my hand brushes his shoulder, but I ignore him.
Caleb is on my other side, tapping on his phone. He’s more concerned with the logistics than with the actual matches.
“I’m betting on Haley Smokes for the first match,” Havoc says. “She’s been upping her game all season.”
“No betting,” Caleb says immediately. “Employees aren’t allowed to bet.”
“He isn’t really going to bet,” Seven says. He’s still subdued and has been ever since Trent found him far too close to the balcony railing, but he offers a smile anyway. “Right, Havoc?” He eyes him. “I mean, if you did, you wouldn’t be able to tell Caleb. ”
“I just mean, casually,” Havoc replies with a roll of his eyes. “Between us. The only prize is the satisfaction of me being right.”
“You being wrong,” I interject with a grin. “Because Persephone Peterson is going to kick Haley’s ass. I talked to Persi earlier, and she’s out for blood.”
“Of course you two don’t even agree on a sports thing,” Seven remarks.
Before I can get concerned about that, though, he pokes me in the side.
“It’s fine. I’m only joking. You don’t have to agree on sports things,” Seven adds, looking between us.
I’m more relieved than I want to be. I know Seven doesn’t like us treating him like a delicate flower, but lately, I’ve been worried about causing another incident. Even him being here with us feels like an unnecessary risk with his family poking around, but Havoc had said that Seven had liked the last match.
None of us want to keep him trapped any more than we have to.
“Good, because I want a friendly wager,” I tell Havoc. “For old time’s sake, how about the winner gets the next date with Seven?”
Havoc’s gaze goes to Seven. “Is that okay, Seven? It’s really for fun, but if you don’t want to go out with us…”
Seven huffs, but I can see the wariness in his expression as he says, “Depends on where you want to take me. One of you might have a better idea than the other.”
“Current company gets full control of where we go,” I reassure him.
Whatever else we’re going to say is interrupted because the lights around us dim and the fighters step into the cage.
The two women are both fit, wearing tight leggings and sports bras along with their protective gear. Haley Smokes grins widely and waves to the crowd. Persephone Peterson waits until Haley chills before she does her own intro. Her fans are louder, drowning out everything else.
I know a bunch of losers who think the women’s matches are pointless, but they’re every bit as fit as their male counterparts, and the fight is evenly matched. When the bell rings, the two women begin the dance.
Sure, they aren’t the headliners, but watching two athletic people use their bodies so expertly is always fun.
I glance at Seven, who’s lost interest in me and Havoc in favor of watching the fight. Seven doesn’t usually look this interested in anything that isn’t sex, so it’s nice to see him watching the match with such rapt attention. I catch Havoc looking at him too, and we exchange a look that makes me think we might be on the verge of a tentative truce.
Neither of us wants to risk triggering Seven again.
I might still be pissed off at Havoc for what he’d said, but I hadn’t done much better.
Seven squirms in his seat, and while he’s not actively cheering, he looks like he wants to be.
He catches me looking at him and gives me a quizzical glance. “What?” he asks, barely audible over the crowd.
I shake my head. “Nothing. Just watch the fight.”
He eyes me briefly, then turns back to watching.
The first round goes to Haley, to my chagrin. While the fighters take their break, Seven leans forward, fidgeting with anticipation.
“That was pretty cool,” Seven says, like he wasn’t completely absorbed in the fight for the five minutes it lasted.
Havoc laughs and ruffles his hair. “Yeah, it was. They’re both great fighters.”
Seven nods. He’s trying to play it cool, but he’s positively glowing. “Yeah, they’re okay.”
I glance at Caleb. Maybe it’s not too late to get Seven some classes. It’s something to talk to him about later, though.
Caleb is scowling at his phone, and he gets up without a word to take a call. We watch him walk off.
The second round starts, and I set my attention back to the fight. Unfortunately, it looks like Havoc was right about his bet. Haley’s got better form, and she scores more than Persephone does.
“She could catch up in the third round,” I say to Havoc.
“Keep huffing that copium,” he responds, grinning. “What do you think, Seven? Will Persi catch up?”
“What’s copium?” Seven asks, looking between me and Havoc.
“Lying to yourself,” I say irritably. “He thinks there’s no way Persi can win.”
“From the word ‘coping,’” Havoc explains. “Coping plus opium gets turned into copium, a drug made of false hope.” He smirks at me. “Which is the only way to believe that Persi can still come out on top.”
I’d argue back, but the third round starts. With dismay, I notice that Persi’s energy is flagging a lot more than Haley’s. She’s sloppy in her grapples, and it’s not a surprise when the judges determine Haley as the winner.
“One for me,” Havoc says smugly. “You still have a few matches to catch up on.”
I extend my arm out for a fist bump. “You’re on.”
Havoc bumps his fist against mine, with Seven trapped between us.
“I call Blade Fury for the headline fight,” Havoc says immediately.
I groan. “No! I was going to pick him!”
“Too bad,” Havoc says. “You’ll have to take Jesús Díaz.”
“But he lost his last two fights,” I say. Havoc looks smug, and I mutter. “You’d better cheer for Díaz for me, Seven.”
Seven’s mouth twitches, but his voice is solemn as he says, “Who says I want you to win?”
I snort, and we settle in for the next two fights. The crowd cheers for the new fighters, one of whom hasn’t done a major event before. It’ll be interesting to see him become the headliner in the future. I guessed right for this fight, but Havoc takes the next match with more established fighters.
It’s finally time for the headline fight. The crowd is thrumming with anticipation, and as soon as Blade Fury and Jesús Díaz step onto the fighting cage, everybody breaks out into a large roar. Havoc and I end up on our feet too, cheering for them.
“Is everybody ready?” the host calls to the audience. We cheer loudly, and the bell rings to signal the start of the match.
This one’s harder to call. Fury starts out strong, but Díaz quickly makes up headway. He must’ve been training hard, because I’m not sure I’ve seen this kind of passion from him in the fight cage before.
I find myself cheering, and Seven — while much quieter — joins me.
I flash a smug look at Havoc.
Díaz lands a blow on Fury, causing the audience to boo him.
I should be glad, but something feels strange.
Fury took the punch harder than I expected him to. I glance at Havoc, and he’s got a thin scowl on his face too.
The first round ends with the judges declaring Fury the winner, but it was a close call.
“That was weird,” Havoc says.
“I guess Díaz has been training hard,” I say, but it still seems off somehow. That was too decisive.
The second round isn’t any different, with Fury missing some obvious grapples and Díaz easily avoiding his slow punches.
I’d wanted Díaz to win, but this pathetic display only makes my stomach churn.
The second round ends with Díaz tackling Fury into submission. I look at Seven, expecting to see the interest in his expression, but he’s locked down tight.
“Seven?” I ask cautiously. “What’s going on?”
He shakes his head. “Nothing!” he says. “I don’t know why it’s weird.”
I want to press him, but Caleb chooses that moment to return. He looks furious though. “Vortex,” he snaps. “We need to go.”
“Go?” I echo. “The match is almost over?— ”
“I don’t care.” Caleb shakes his head. “Did you see Trent anywhere? I thought he was going to be here for the event.”
“No,” Seven says. He stands up and goes to Caleb, pressing against his side.
There’s definitely something going on, and it stinks.
“Let me guess,” Havoc says with a sneer. “There’s no point in betting on Blade.”
The final round starts up, and Caleb huffs impatiently. “Help me find Trent, Vortex. He has to be here.”
“I’ll come too,” Havoc says, getting up. “I never liked that guy.”
“You don’t like anyone,” Caleb snaps. “Fine, come on.” He walks off, Seven in tow, and Havoc jogs after them.
We do a cursory search of the audience, but Trent isn’t in any of the VIP seats. Caleb leads us into the back, where the locker rooms and private changing rooms are.
We hear voices coming from the promoter’s office.
Caleb motions to the door, and I step forward and bust it open, not even trying the lock first.
We hear the loud cheers and boos from the event hall, letting us know that the final round has ended.
There are three men inside the office. Trent, the promoter Veronica, and somebody I vaguely recognize. They all startle when we enter.
“Oh, Caleb!” Trent says, smiling nervously. “I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”
“You said you would leave this match alone,” Caleb hisses. “You think I wouldn’t recognize your man on the judge’s table?”
If I hadn’t been sure that the fight had been rigged before, I am now. It was so blatantly obvious that it’s stupid, and I wish I hadn’t bashed the door in so I could close it behind us. I clear my throat, drawing Caleb’s attention to it.
Seven clings to Caleb’s side, and I can’t read him as well as I can read Caleb’s fury .
“Did I say that?” Trent asks, scratching his chin. He glances at Veronica. “Tell him how much money we’re gonna make,” he says.
Veronica taps on the tablet on her desk. “I think we’re set to earn several million on this, Caleb. It was a good deal.”
The third man nods, and I realize now where I’ve seen him before. He’s Blade’s manager. He must be glad for the guaranteed payout, which is worth more than whatever other promotional deals they might have lined up.
“Blade will still win the championship,” the manager says. “We gotta keep people on their toes, make the fights interesting. That’s all. If we promo Díaz as his ultimate rival, that’ll drive more sales and bets, too.”
Havoc balls his hands into fists. “Are you listening to yourselves? The fights are supposed to be raw, pure . You’re tainting everything they stand for.”
His passion is commendable, but I know people like this won’t care.
Veronica laughs. “Please. People want spectacle and showmanship. There’s a reason wrestling outperforms MMA in terms of viewership.”
I want to speak up, but I have more self-control than Havoc. Instead, I hang back, keeping an eye on the door — far too mindful of how easily someone could stumble across this particular conversation. Caleb has to be beyond furious not to be thinking of that scenario right now.
“I don’t care!” Caleb snaps. “Of course spectacle outperforms. I don’t give a fuck that nine out of ten fights are rigged! But you know the regulators take a close look at the major headline matches, especially if there’s a sudden rise in bets for the underdog! Which there were!”
Trent rolls his eyes. “You worry too much, Caleb. Just toss some bribes their way and be done with it.” He turns his attention to Seven. “Hey, kid. How are you doing? Lori told me you’ve got excellent taste in cartoons. ”
“They aren’t—” Seven begins, but one glance at Caleb has him falling silent. He tugs at the long sleeves covering the scratches on his arms, though.
I look out over the hall, making sure I don’t hear any footsteps. This fight being rigged is bad news for Caleb, no matter how much money it might’ve brought in.
“Shut up, Trent,” Caleb hisses. “If anybody comes knocking, you’re paying the bribes and making sure nothing comes of this, understood? I’ve worked too hard to get the Roi into respectable, government-approved shape for you to ruin all of it?—”
Trent makes a dismissive gesture. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it, don’t worry.” Then he smirks at Caleb. “Careful, though. Leon might not be too happy if he finds out you’re more worried about respectability than making profits for us.”
Havoc takes a threatening step forward, but I grab his arm to stop him from doing anything stupid.
Caleb shifts his attention to Veronica. “And you. I thought I could trust you to keep some of this bullshit under wraps. Trent might be under Leon’s protection, but we both know my grandfather doesn’t approve of women being involved. This was your only strike.”
Veronica has the decency to look chastised. “Of course, Mr. Spade.”
Seven loops his arm in Caleb’s. I realize he’s trying to get him to calm down, though I’m not sure how well that’s going to work with Caleb on the warpath like this. “We should go,” he tells Caleb.
Caleb looks like he wants to say more, but we hear people coming through the halls—including Blade Fury himself, saying something about how of course he’s disappointed, but that Díaz did a great job and he looks forward to fighting him in the future.
Havoc glares at Fury’s manager. “How’d you convince him to do it?” he hisses.
The manager shrugs. “One hundred thousand. Considering his own problems… yeah, it wasn’t hard to do.”
A hundred thousand .
Is that all it takes for someone to throw their reputation in the trash these days?
Havoc lets out a disgusted sound. “Seven’s right. Let’s go.”
Caleb and Seven walk out the door, Havoc right behind.
I glare at Trent. “Watch yourself. You aren’t as untouchable as you think you are.” I know threatening him is stupid, but I’m beyond pissed off that he’s making this trouble for Caleb.
I fight the urge to pull a Havoc and flip him off, instead turning to leave the room without another word and following the others.
We have some serious damage control to do.