Chapter 17
Shooter
Three rounds. That was all he had to survive. He could go on to more, but I knew in three rounds he could make it a TKO and win the whole thing. Outwit the opponent, defend yourself like it was a real-life situation.
Dillon’s walk-out song played through the speakers; the roar of the crowd gave him more light to his fire. Blaze and Stray walked beside him as I brought up the rear. He wasn’t going to need much coaching from me from the side, but just being there was going to be enough for him.
I felt the familiar twinge of fury when his opponent stepped in.
The size of the man was almost double the muscle of Dillon.
Dillon was a heavy built man that looked like he could play college ball.
But this man he was facing looked like he stepped out of a fight from the Bible.
He was a giant. Shit, he looked like the size of Blaze and myself combined.
I looked at Stray, and yanked his ass back toward me. “What the fuck is this David and Goliath shit?” It was a bit unethical in fighting standards, though this was the league fight, nor could anyone really know.
“He was one of the only ones that wanted to go up against Dillon, what more do you want me to say?” Stray shrugged. “And technically if you remember your Sunday school education, David won.”
Smartass didn’t help.
“No wonder why he thought the odds were against him,” I spat out.
“He’ll be fine. He has more brains than that fighter does anyway,” Stray tried to reason with me.
That didn’t help. A fighter could be smarter than their opponent, but sometimes it was the power behind the throws. Dillon was a good fighter. I had faith that he would give his all.
The crowd’s cheers grew louder and louder as the moments passed by when the fighters got to their corners, preparing themselves for their own fight.
Dillon looked around like he was taking in the moment, trying to gather the strength to push forward. His eyes searched for me. I stepped up to the edge. “You okay?”
“Just making sure I’m making the right decision,” he said honestly.
“What you need to do is fight for yourself. This is what you wanted. You made the choice to stand up here and prove yourself.” My words sounded a bit harsh, but he needed them nonetheless.
He simply nodded, prepared for the ref to signal them to begin their first round.
Dillon kept it on the defensive side, taking a couple blows to the body, but stood himself back up and showed that he was ready.
Something about this fight made me feel like I couldn’t watch.
Maybe it was my attachment to the boy. Maybe I knew that this matchup wasn’t completely fair.
Watching him take blows upon blows was hard enough to watch in any of his other fights, but watching him with this Goliath of a man, I wanted him to win but needed him to be safe and smart.
Something was still off about this fight, and it was driving me nuts.
Maybe it was the way Dillon’s fighting stance wasn’t strong enough.
Was he putting too much effort into studying his opponent?
With one ding of the bell, Dillon was struck down from a blow to the face.
The ref charged at his opponent before he could think of charging at him.
Dillon laid there for a moment, before shakily anchoring himself to stand up.
A dribble of blood slid down his face, and I felt that fire in me burning to take the motherfucker out myself.
As strong as he was, he made himself get back up and stride back to his corner.
“I should have just stayed down,” he whispered.
“Nah uh, junior, you look at me,” I commanded, pushing Blaze out of the way as he attempted to wipe off the blood. “You want to tell me what that was? What was I seeing?”
“I told you the odds were against me.” His eyes dropped to the floor.
“That’s some bullshit answer. You want to know what I don’t see?
” I leaned forward, bringing his attention back to me.
“I don’t see the fighter that knows how to put the money to his mouth.
I don’t see the fighter that knocked me on my ass and put me in a boot.
” Dillon smirked for a moment. “I need to see that fighter, because this punk ass bitch ain’t it.
What else are you willing to put on the line for this? ”
His eyes drifted away, his fire re-igniting in him. He nodded, took a few deep breaths.
“Atta boy. Go make yourself proud and win this fight,” I said, pumping him up.
“Ah, gramps wants to go to bed early, that’s why,” he teased, and at that moment the boy was back, and I knew he wasn’t going to lose. His eyes drifted to the side and back to me. “I’m going to win this, Shooter.”
With the warning of the next round starting, my hope for him was that he would end it once and for all. Not back down.
I couldn’t help but glance over to where he had drifted his attention. It wasn’t a coincidence. As the fight began, I tore away to find what the hell he was looking at. We had our regular group of people crowding the area, a few more suits than I could like.
But one man next to a suit and the rat Lenny was another man that must have wanted an early grave, because he’s never been here before.
Chris.
The bastard that laid hands on my woman.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, pulling me from murderous thoughts.
“Brother, your eye is twitching and you’re missing your boy about to have a knockout,” Stray said, as the crowd roared into a frenzy.
Out of the side of my eyes, I see Stray focus back on the fight watching every action before him.
While I had a target on a man that I was about to break a rule from the club.
Never murder someone on legal or illegal business property. What would happen if the enforcer of the club watched the blood drip from his lifeless body? Maybe I should have covered myself with his blood and showed Amelia just how far I’d go to have her and protect her.
The crowd erupted in shouts and screams as Dillon found his drive again and showed everyone the man that I knew well. Stray busted in happy shouts, knowing that Dillon would take the win. As much as I wanted to celebrate with him, hoist him up on our shoulders, I had another problem on my hands.
The final bell chimed announcing the end of the fight.
Mixed emotions roamed the arena. People were happy that they were taking home a chunk of change and some furious that they didn’t pick the right man to win.
A few caught my attention, one more than others.
The sleaze of a man hung his head in defeat.
A couple of suits near him looked at each other and back at the ring before slowly brushing past people who were storming the ring.
Chris picked up a bottle that looked like he was nursing back to health. I wanted him out of here. The sight of him unraveled the control that I worked to keep at bay. The sight of him reminded me of the obstacle that he had become from having Amelia all to myself.
I stopped in front of him, “You shouldn’t be here.” I kept my voice calm, or at least the best I could do before he thought he had a shot of swinging at me. “Get the fuck off our property.”
The slim looked up at him, bloodshot eyes, unkempt appearance. The man looked like he rolled out of the trash and settled for a sewage smell. What Amelia saw in him, I’d never know.
He unsteadily stood up, attempting to make himself present taller. He took one sip of the beer before tossing it to the ground. Shards scattering along the ground. “You’re not the boss of me.”
Well, I didn’t think that she married him for his brains. His breath was horrid, probably could be used as smelling salts. He was just proving that I needed her out of that house, out of his life. I could have done that when I found out, but Amelia wouldn’t have trusted me as much as she did.
“Not of you, but the patch on my back means you’re on my property.” I warned him. “I’ll say it again. Leave.”
It was just him and me, no one else to hear me, no witnesses when I wanted to wring his neck, possibly snap it before common sense became my voice of reasoning. “I suggest you leave, Chris. Now. I won’t tell you again.” The fire in my voice wasn’t a warning anymore; it was a promise.
He squinted, taking a staggering step. Then a smile crept on his face, “I never told you my name. Which means, you know me through someone else.” His eyes scanned me up and down like he was looking for a way to get further under my skin.
I tried not to react, but when it came to her, there were no promises.
“I think you know my wife, I think. She’s friends or something with one of your people.
” He was shooting off at the mouth now, and I was inches away from snapping the light out of his eyes.
I kept failing. “Wait a second… you know her.” He studied my face before waving a finger in my face, “Yeah you know her.” He was in a drunk stupor; he didn’t know what he was saying. It was still no excuse.
Don’t give too much away, dumbass.
My hands itched to punch him, one good hit to knock him out on the floor. He kept running his mouth, taking a step closer to me, “I see that look in your eyes. Mia.”
My body started to shake. It was one thing for him to be there, but to see his mind spin even under the influence, he was testing me.
“Get the fuck off my property before you land yourself six feet under and no one would care in the world. You don’t fucking belong here.
Do something for once in your small dick life and stop fucking around. ”
He was nearly bumping chests with mine. The cocky grin on his mouth wasn’t going to save him from my next impulsive thought. “Well, I have one person that would look for me.”
I snapped.
I blacked out.
With a forceful lunge and my hand tight around his scrawny neck, Chris was pinned to the wall behind him.
Heat rose from my body, anger became fury and turmoil.
“Go ahead, scream. I like it when people scream like something is going to save them.” Just like Stray, Chris tried to rip my grip off him.
He fought for another breath, but I yanked his body away from the wall and thrusted him back against the wall.
“What the fuck man? Jesus fucking Christ,” he managed to say.
“Make my fucking day.” I squeezed tighter.
I could feel the panic in his body attempt to fight me off. He wasn’t going to win, and I was completely fine with that.
Strong hands gripped my shoulders, hoisting me backward. “Shooter!”
Stray and Hank yanked me back as hard as they could, breaking the contact I had with Chris. Chris heaved over, gasping for air. Stray held me back; Hank stepped in front of me. “What the hell is going on here? Hound is going to have your ass.”
Hank and I were around the same height and build but he was ten years my senior.
He had been around the block or two including the ring.
He was the one that we trusted with the money and looking out for the businesses.
I was already pissed at the match up with Dillon’s opponent, but stepping in front of me prevented me from spilling a little blood. One good swing, that’s all I needed.
“Fuck off.” I raged.
Chris stood up, rubbing his neck. “I could sue.”
“Good luck with that. Might have to explain everything else and why you were here.” Hank spat out, not even looking at him. He kept his gaze on me, tracking my movement.
“Your fighter cost me money. I could get my money back by taking you to court.” Chris convinced himself.
“You bet on the wrong person.”
“He wasn’t supposed to win anyway. The dude was half the size of the other man. You all cheated or something.” Chris kept spewing bullshit.
Stray kept his grip on me, leaned down. “You and I both know this man, don’t cause a scene.”
Stray wasn’t stupid, but he also was one of the main people I talked to about Amelia, especially after he was snooping and almost got in the crossfires when I got caught sneaking off to watch Amelia.
“Do yourself a favor, find another place to gamble your life away. You’re not welcomed here.” Hank ruled.
In a flash, Chris went from a cowardly rat to a raging bull, attempting to break the barrier of Hank. “You’re all gutter trash. Con artists, bastards that think you’re kings of the streets.”
“Then you should know not to piss us off,” Stray hissed out.
“He assaulted me.” Chris pointed at me. I scoffed. I barely assaulted him.
“And he’d do a lot more if I let him go. Think before you speak.” Hank whipped around, bucking himself against Chris.
Chris shoved him, but Hank barely moved. He stood his ground, but Chris kept running his mouth. “You know what?” He straightened himself up. “I know there’s someone worth my time. My wife. She can help with my mood.”
Darkness consumed me, and it took every strength I had to break free of Stray and push past Hank to land one good hit, bringing his ass to the ground. My chest heaved from the adrenaline pumping through my veins. If he knew what was good for him, he’d stay away from her, or he’d stay on the ground.
I crouched down to his slumped body. “You touch her and I will fucking kill you myself.”
He groaned, his ego shattered on the ground. He would never step foot again if I was around. I needed to make it official. Amelia was going to be mine.
I needed to hide away, blow off some steam. The fucker got a warning to stay away from us, from Amelia.