34. Colson
THIRTY-FOUR
COLSON
A fist comes at my face, and it’s quick as a motherfucker. I don’t see it coming, but that might be because it’s my first fight in about a week. I’m starting to wonder if Tommy has something against me. I’ve never gone with so much time in between since I started, and he’s been giving me looks that aren’t exactly friendly.
I don’t know what I did to him, but he’s acting like I took a giant dump in his Cheerios.
He always works with the other ringleaders for equal pair ups. But tonight? Non-fucking-existent. I’m pissed because he could’ve at least given me a heads up. He could’ve pulled me to the side and told me to watch my back, to cinch my elbows in tighter, and lean into my weight for more powerful hits, especially since if I lose, he doesn’t get paid, which then becomes my problem.
A grunt leaves me when I strike my opponent back. I’m big in stature at over six foot, but I swear this guy has a solid foot on me, which only means he has that much more muscle. I look like a hobbit compared to Bigfoot. My lack of control has my anxiety at an all-time high. I’ve made sacrifices to be here, to do this, and this is how Tommy does me?
It’s fucked up, even if it is my choice to continue.
I make sure my fists are quick, my feet quicker. It gets me so far, but the dude is too big for me to gain a real advantage. Two steps, and he has me along the edges of tonight’s ring.
Since the candy warehouse was ruined for us, we’re underground in an old car park located near the 401 that’s been out of service for ages. I don’t think it’s structurally sound enough for us to be down here, but then again, none of us care if the concrete decides to crumble around us.
I bob and weave until he hits me with a corkscrew across my jaw. It knocks me back. I thankfully catch myself, but I don’t miss the sting that spreads over my face. He grins at me, the sadistic fuck, and when he pulls his hands back up to protect his face, I find blood on his knuckles. My blood.
It lights a fire under me, and I go at him hard, psyching him out so I can hit him with a cross, but if I’m being honest, my head is spinning. A dizziness takes over, and it’s all I can do to stay on my feet until he ends the fight with a haymaker. It’s a wild one, but I see it coming. I don’t react fast enough.
I fall flat on my back, the cold, wet concrete soaking my clothes from the last rain we had. Even with coverage, it still managed to get inside the parking garage. I thought it’d be smart to dress in moveable sweats and a basic tee, but I regret it the more the fabric absorbs the water and soaks my skin. I’m overheating so I might not care a ton now, but when I come down from the adrenaline, it’s going to suck.
The crowd circling us screams, yelling like a bunch of banshees. It never gets old, hearing the chants and clapping. It’s not right. Fucked up beyond a reasonable doubt, but I can’t say I don’t use it to motivate me.
My contender raises a fist and spits. It lands on the ground next to me. My jaw clenches. I’m not about to get up, break The Battleground rules, and challenge him, so I act like it didn’t happen.
My body thrums from the ass beating he doled out, but I take my loss for what it is. I don’t cower but push up on my hands and knees and get to my feet. I push through a section of the crowd when they part and make it over to the side where Tommy and his other fighters stand. There aren’t separate rooms to hide away in out here.
“Couldn’t take him?” Remy chuckles and shakes his head at me. “Maybe next time, Pretty Boy.” When he tries to ruffle my hair, I shove his hand away and seek out my bag. I crouch to the ground and pull out the small medic container I keep there for situations like this. I pour alcohol on a clean towelette and smooth it against the cut at the corner of my mouth until I can clean it better when I get home.
The rubbing alcohol only enhances the sting. I grit my teeth against it until it fades away then toss it back into my bag and pull my hoodie over my damp shirt.
A closed fist comes into vision, and when I look up, I see Eli. I knock my knuckles against his. “That looked tough.”
The same irritation I felt during the fight comes over me. “It was bullshit. That guy was twice my size.”
“I wouldn’t say he was that big, but definitely out of your weight class.”
My eyes move to my boss about forty feet away. His attention is focused on the next fight about to start. We’ve been moving through the rounds quickly. Probably because we’re not in closed quarters. Best thing to do is get through our matches before anyone gets wind that we’re down here.
Eli catches my line of sight. “I’d be careful if I were you.”
I narrow my eyes on him. “Why? He could’ve given me a heads up.”
“Yeah, but that’s not the kind of dude he is. Is what it is, bro.” He clasps his hand on my shoulder. “You alright, though?”
I’m suddenly aggravated over the fact that he doesn’t seem to care. In a way, Tommy did me dirty. If he makes a promise, he should learn to keep it. The way none of the other guys seem to care or notice? It’s uncanny and makes me think of Finn yet again.
“I’m good.”
“You ran out on me fast last night.”
“What the hell do you care?” I grind out, not liking the way he switches the topic.
He raises his palms in surrender. “Just sharing an observation.”
I clear my throat, guilt and irritation swirling inside me. “I told you I had somewhere to be.”
“Yeah, okay. No problem, man. Just checking in with you.”
“I don’t need a check-in,” I spit at him. “I’m fine.”
He nods and eyes me warily, as if he doesn’t believe me. I don’t give a shit if he does. Not when I’m reeling over this fight and how it felt an awful lot like I was blindsided. My eyes cut to Tommy once more. As much as I try to block out the volume of the people around, my body vibrates with their chants and chatter.
The end of the night comes quickly. In an hour the ball is going to drop, and I’ll be rolling into the new year with the shit of the last few months trailing behind me like a caboose. And yet all I care about is the moment everyone breaks apart and the crowd starts following the road back above ground. I’ve been waiting for this moment all night. For the chance to figure out what the hell tonight’s fight was about.
When we’re called over to collect our winnings, I know I’m walking away empty-handed. I lost fair and square. I may be salty over Bigfoot, but that’s what happens when you have the advantage, and he had it on me. He had the size, the strength, and me being off guard.
So, for that, cool.
For Tommy pulling a fast one on me, not cool.
I’m mixed in with a group of guys. Remy is to my left, running his mouth like always. He was one of the first fights of the night and pulled off his win before the third round started. Tommy calls his name and Remy’s smile is the size of a canoe. Cold hard cash is slapped in his hand. “Thank you very much,” sings Remy as he strides away, a pep in his step even though we all know he’s going to blow it at the closest casino he can find.
“Keep fighting like you are.” Tommy’s eyes scan to the crowd. “All of you keep fighting and winning, and you’ll always find yourself walking away with this sweetness.” He raises a bundle of dollar bills and smacks them in his palm.
I’m the only one tonight not getting paid. And I mean, it may not be about the money for me, but it still sucks. I watch everyone take their winnings. Remy flaunts his, bragging to no end how good he is. Eli takes his quietly. He doesn’t have much to say outside of getting on my case.
When everyone has collected their winnings, they disperse into the night. They trail up the road leading above ground, but I hang back. Tommy and the dude who trails him like a shadow—it reminds me a lot like Finn and his goons—hover by their car, an old school Cadillac with shiny, expensive rims that could use a paint job. It probably wasn’t smart for them to drive it down here. I’m sure Tommy insisted. It offers him protection, a quick getaway, if need be, though I’m not sure how far he’d get.
I approach him, my hands deep in the pockets of my bottoms. The sides of them are still damp, my skin most likely pruned underneath it. The cool almost January air slithers up my legs. I bring my shoulders to my ears and nod at the man in charge. “Tommy? You good to have a quick word?”
His blue eyes plunge into me like an icicle falling from a roof. He’s not happy. Probably doesn’t think my last few fights are the kind of quality he wants, but has he forgotten about all the others before? I have a damn good winning streak. Better than what the guys we go up against can say.
“Colson,” he says in greeting, but I hear the sharpness in it. I also sense the impatience. As I’m gearing up to talk, he walks the short distance to the back of his car and says, “Not your best night.”
“That’s actually what I want to talk about. I thought our pair-ups were supposed to be equally matched.” I must sound like a little bitch, complaining over this trivial shit. “That guy was pushing close to two-fifty.”
“He’s who we had for you tonight.”
I scoff. “I find that sort of hard to believe.”
“I never said this wouldn’t happen, Colson. I like to match fighters up with their class, yes. Guess it’s the wrestler in me from all those years ago being on the mat. But it’s not written in stone and sometimes the payout is bigger when there’s a bigger guy in the mix.”
“I don’t see you pairing the other guys with bulkier dudes.”
Switching Remy’s opponent with mine would’ve been a better match for the both of us.
His eyes narrow on me, and he takes a step closer. “Consider it a test, a means to see if you have what it takes and how you handle your business.”
He has got to be fucking kidding me.
“I’ve won every match minus two. You put me in the ring after I got blasted in the side of my head, and I still fought and won. If that doesn’t show you my commitment or how I handle myself then what exactly am I supposed to do?”
He shrugs. “That’s for you to figure out, but the first step in proving you know how to fight is by bringing in cash and knocking your opponents out.”
I blink and look off to the side. I don’t understand how I’m putting forth all the action, showing up, fighting, and winning nine times out of ten, and it gives off the impression that I’m not serious.
“What’s this really about, because I feel like you’re giving me the jerk around.”
Tommy smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I test my guys' limits. I want to see how bad they want it. The lengths they’re willing to travel shows me how committed they are to the cause.”
“There was no cause discussed when Eli introduced us.”
I don’t like this sneaky shit he’s pulling. How he’s going back on his word and throwing in other stuff that we never discussed.
“Well,” he says, “Consider myself the cause. Either you go through the hoops like everyone has?—”
“You’ve done this with the others then?”
He’s being polite when he says, “Don’t question how I manage my fighters,” but I can see his eyes and they’re anything but. “If you don’t like how I run things, you’re free to go. Just remember what we talked about.”
“Remember what exactly?” When Eli introduced me to Tommy, my only priority was getting out of my head. I recall most of what was said, but now I’m wondering if I missed something.
“The buyout.”
“What?”
“If you want out,” Tommy says slowly. “You’ll pay your way out, Colson.”
Yeah, no. I would have definitely remembered that. “You never mentioned a buyout.”
“Consider this an amendment to our prior discussion.”
I blink at him.
“I only work with men who take this seriously. Men who want to be in the circle, fighting for their right at a prize at the end of the night. Doesn’t matter what their reason is for showing up. If you can’t find it in yourself to man up and take a fucking beating when it’s to the benefit of me, well then, you can buy yourself out of the predicament you’re in. Call it insurance, if you will. A guarantee that if you do walk, you won’t talk, and I won’t, either. Ten grand ensures I won’t have to track you down to make sure you don’t spill the beans on my profits. Or my fighters.”
I get the sudden urge to ask if he’s ever been the one fighting or if he’s always pitted guys against each other to be ripped down and beaten. But what does it matter? I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. I’ll gladly come back and keep fighting if it means it’ll put him in his place. If it’ll have him eating all these words and admitting his wrongs.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I’ll just remember that I can’t trust him and bring my A-game every damn night. That way, if he puts me up against someone in a higher weight class again, he’ll be the one who's surprised.
“Then I guess that settles this.”
I dip my chin down, and he twists on his heel. He climbs into the back of his Cadillac. It purrs to life, then speeds out of the parking garage. I glance around and note I’m the last one left. A discomfort rushes down my spine. I want Tommy to regret what he said tonight, and I know the only way I can do that is prove myself more than I already have, but it doesn’t stop me from thinking about him trying to pull a fast one on me.
I’ve worked with Finn in the past. I know what it looks like when someone is greedy for money and power. I also know what it looks like when someone will manipulate a person to get whatever it is they want. If and when the day comes when I do want an out, I’m not paying him shit. He can consider my wins as payment enough.
I shoulder my bag after his taillights fade into the night and begin my trek toward my car. It’s a two-block walk, and when I get there, my phone buzzes in my hand. It’s a repeat text from Sebastian. He invited me to some New Year’s Eve party they’re having at the apartment. I initially told him I wasn’t going to make it, but as I stare down at the picture he sent of him, Tristan, and Webber, I can’t help but wonder if she’s there.
I also can’t help but be annoyed at this game we’re playing. I know it’s mostly on me. I’m the one that called her last night. I’m also the one who hung up on her. It was uncalled for, a total dick move.
But I reached the threshold. The spot in our conversation where I needed to put distance there. As time goes on, I miss her more and more. And the more I miss her, the more I want her. And the more I want her, the more I wonder if I should be out fighting for Tommy and ignoring my problems at all.
Because if I have Violet, I’ll have to face everything.
And I’m not sure I’m ready for that.