Chapter 22 #2
A lot of yelling starts, some booing, and cries of “Fix, fix!” and “Give me my money back!” including one from a guy right in front of us.
“I think that probably didn’t go as expected,” Agnes says quietly from beside me.
“Everyone needs to return to where they were standing. Gentlemen, please!”
There’s more shouting and fist-waving, but gradually people begin to move and spread out across the floor again.
“Whoooeeee!” Agnes says.
“This is way more exciting than I was expecting,” June adds.
As it all calms down, the MC leans down to talk to someone by the ring, and I catch a glimpse of Angelo, Konstantin, and another man in dark shades.
The MC nods and straightens. “If everybody is back in their places, I’ll introduce the next fight. Anyone who throws another punch will be ejected immediately.”
More shouts and catcalls come from the crowd at this, but the MC says, “No exceptions,” which results in yet more jeering.
“Right!” he says loudly. “As we’re all calm now, I want to present the most exciting fight of this evening.
We have a newcomer tonight, someone not seen on the circuit before and one of the best fighters I’ve come across in a long time.
He came to our attention in a very close confrontation with the Bear, a couple of months ago. ”
People murmur, leaning over to talk to each other.
“I hate these fucking newcomers; they never know what they’re doing,” the man in front of Marni says.
“You got any bets on this one?” the guy next to him asks.
“No serious money: just two grand against the newcomer. They always lose. They’re just not well versed enough in the dirty tricks.”
A couple of thousand isn’t serious money?
I look at Marni, who makes wide eyes at me, then leans over. “I think this crowd is loaded. You probably aren’t invited unless you’ve got bajillions to bet.” She grins her evil Marni smile. “I’m looking at these guys in a whole new light now.”
But the men in front of us are still talking. “Yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing this latest guy get destroyed.”
The MC is still speaking, and I’ve missed it all.
“What was that?” I say to Agnes.
But before she can answer, the MC shouts, “Please welcome Rigger to the ring!”
A loud cheer goes up, and Marni screams at the top of her voice, “He’s gonna slaughter him!”
And the place dissolves into laughter.
“Shut up!” I hiss.
“Thank you to the lady at the back, whoever you are! We’re expecting a very close fight tonight. Make your last-minute bets!”
More murmurs ripple through the crowd. The music strikes up, and Rig swaggers through the velvet curtains with his arms in the air. I’ve never seen him behave like this. I want to laugh, but I’m terrified, too.
“Big guy, seems confident.”
“It’s a setup. Bound to be.”
“Maybe it’s a setup the other way around. Think I’m going to make a bet on him. I like the way he looks,” the man in front of me says.
The other guy shakes his head. “The odds are wild on him.”
But my guy just smiles. “I like a gamble that pays off. Saw him watching the first fight, too. Takes it serious.” He beckons one of the suits over, and after a brief chat, a wad of money changes hands and something is handed back.
“You’ll regret that,” his friend says, but he just grins at him, showing several metal teeth.
The MC has moved on to talk about Rig’s opponent and all the fights he’s won. Someone named the Razor. Even his name doesn’t sound good. And oh my God, the list is so long!
The friend leans into the one who’s just placed a bet, laughing. “He’s fighting the Razor, man. That asshole knows every dirty trick in the book. This is obviously a setup.” And my stomach drops. Does Rig know that?
The music starts, and the meanest, most beaten-up man I’ve ever seen comes waltzing through the curtains, surrounded by guys who look just as rough. He’s about the same size as Rig, but boy, does he look different. Shaved head. Silver Spandex pants. Body covered in scars. How can I watch this?
In seconds, he’s leaped into the ring, bouncing through the cage door, and he goes right up to Rig and spits in his face. The referee tries to shift him back, but he doesn’t budge. Rig stares back at him, unmoved.
The referee says some words to the Razor, who bounces back to his corner, but as he does, Rig follows him, doing an exaggerated imitation of his walk, sticking his ass out and wiggling it, and people hoot with laughter. As soon as the Razor stops and turns, Rig halts, too.
He steps up to Rig again, but Rig doesn’t move.
He just chews his gum and grins, side-eyeing the crowd.
Someone starts clapping, and then everyone is clapping, and Rig carries on smiling, stepping back from the Razor and putting his arms in the air.
He walks around the wire cage, clapping his hands above his head.
I can see the Razor doesn’t like this at all—he’s clearly used to being the performer in the ring—and if you’d asked me whether Rig was a showman, I’d have said no way.
“This is going to get nasty real fast,” the guy in front of Marni says.
“I heard this new guy did a vicious fight with the Bear, and you know he’s as mean as hell.” He nods. “I’m liking the look of ’im.”
The referee calls Rig and the Razor together and lifts his hand, and the bell rings as he brings it down.
The Razor goes straight for a headbutt, which has to be illegal, but Rig must have been expecting it because he jerks back.
The Razor still catches him across the cheek, but as the momentum carries the Razor forward, Rig has moved and twisted enough to be able to karate-chop him on the back of the neck.
I can see the force he puts into it, too, and the Razor staggers but rights himself as he bounces off the wire cage at the far side of the ring with a howl of rage.
The guy in front of me who placed the bet slow claps.
Rig launches straight at the Razor, fists flying, not letting him recover for a second, and they wheel around in circles, the crowd roaring its approval.
Rig never stops trying to take his legs out, landing punches, but suddenly he’s bleeding on his face, and a wave of hissing and booing starts.
The referee pulls the Razor back and says something to him.
“He files his nails a certain way so he can rip skin with them. That’s why they call him the Razor,” the guy in front of Marni says.
“Holy shit,” the other guy says.
And sure enough, as they fight on, cuts start appearing all over Rig. The crowd is booing and shouting and gesturing at the referee, but he’s doing nothing to stop what’s happening.
“Hon, don’t squeeze my arm.”
“I can’t watch, Marni. I can’t. He’s getting ripped to shreds.”
“He’s won quite a few fights just tearing up his opponent,” the man in front of Marni says, smirking at his friend.
The first round finishes, and I think Rig had the upper hand. But Jake is clearly very unhappy, and several people, along with Jake, step into the ring to talk to the referee, who keeps shaking his head.
“He’s gonna get an-ni-hil-a-ted,” the man in front of Marni says.
Rig is sitting in the corner, head down as Jake talks to him, the small wounds all over him red with blood. My chest is like a vise. They have to stop this. I push Marni back and head along the row.
“Where are you going?” she says.
“They need to stop this. His skin … he’s bleeding all over, Marn.”
But when I get to the end of the row, a man in a suit is blocking my way. He shakes his head at me. “Everyone’s staying where they are,” he says. “No movement allowed.”
“I’m a nurse.” I gesture at the cage. “Someone needs to look at his cuts.”
The guy’s chin juts out. “We’ve got doctors on site.”
I gesture at the ring again. “Then where the fuck are they? I’m telling you, there’s too much damage to his skin.”
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” the guy says, and my jaw drops.
“You are fucking kidding me. I’m a fucking trained medical professional.”
June materializes behind me. “And I’m a doctor,” she says, narrowing her eyes, and yes, I’d forgotten that. Army Medical Corps. I remember her telling me about some of the men she treated who’d come back from Vietnam.
But the guy just scowls and says, “Ladies, you’re not going nowhere. Sit the fuck down before I throw you out.”
I look desperately at where Rig is and then at the size of the bouncer. I can’t exactly wrestle him to the floor and get past him, now can I? Even if I am fitter than I once was. A shrill piercing sound rips through the air, and oh Christ, it’s the whistle for the start of the next round.