Chapter 44
Shooter
“Normally, I wouldn’t care about this, but what the fuck, Hound?
How the hell is this fair?” I yelled shortly after arriving and finding my opponent to not being in the same weight class as me.
It was going to be a grunge match if anything.
The small versus the mighty and in that case, I was the small.
“What do you want me to do? My hands are tied.” Hound shook his head, looking to Otis for some type of guidance. Otis glanced through this phone, rapidly skimming over a document.
“I’m trying to see about any indication of fairness, but I think they fucking out matched me on this one.” He leaned his head back, the nerves rattling him. “I knew I should have re-read this a second time.”
“What do you mean?” I glared at him.
“Meaning there isn’t any specific detail that I could argue if this went into court or something. We all agreed on a ‘fighter of our choosing’, what we didn’t realize that their choosing didn’t have to match ours.”
“The contract is open for interpretation is what you’re fucking telling me.”
Minutes were ticking by, and the more we stood around fighting over the fact that we weren’t careful with wording, the less time I had to get back to a mental space that was ready to fight.
“That fucker could take me out with his foot if he wanted to stomp on me,” I said.
“That won’t happen,” Hound Dog promised.
I turned to face him. “How the fuck do you know? Your ass ain’t going into the ring with the giant that could kill a village.”
Stray looked back at me and then back to Otis and Hound Dog. “I think the man’s brain is scrambled.”
I was about to scramble something else.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, wishing that some fresh hell would get me out of this.
Just fight the monster. Fight like you were made to do it.
“Whatever, I’m just ready to get this fight over with,” I said with an exhausted breath.
If they were trying to rattle me, they certainly accomplished it.
With any fight, you could train or run every scenario that played in your head, but nothing would prepare you until you stepped foot into the ring and took one hit.
It takes one hit to throw you into fight or flight mode, to alter the plans and attacks you had envisioned.
It takes one moment to look at your opponent and know whether you were walking out of the ring alive and victorious or a failure and on a stretcher.
You put everything at risk when you enter into that ring. It’s not about performing for others, it’s about your own victory of the war brewing inside you.
“Guess it’s time to run drills then?” Stray asked, slapping his hands against my back.
“Gentlemen.” A sly voice pulled our focus.
In a sharp black suit, the man didn’t belong in a place like ours, Franklin Abbott stood with outstretched arms, feeling like there was a party and he was the man of the hour. I rolled my eyes, wanting to put him through a wall… again.
“Mr. Shooter, you’re looking in peak shape.
Got that fire burning in your veins?” he said.
His charm didn’t work on me, I could see right through his mask.
Inside was a man that was scared to disappoint and reap the consequences.
He attempted to have complete control, but his facade would only go so far.
“You want to light a match and find out?” I spat.
He held up his hands. “I’m good, think you need to save that for the ring.”
“If you have something to say, then fucking say it. Otherwise, I’m not interested.” I started to charge, but Otis held me back.
“That’s the fighting spirit,” he bellowed, placing his hands in his pockets. “I just hope that by the end of the night, there are no hard feelings.”
I growled, about to launch myself at him, when Hound Dog stepped in my path.
“Mr. Abbott, I suggest you walk the other way. Shortly, your business in my city will be over and I would hate to send you home with an unrecognizable face. You’re already cheating your way in this fight, and we don’t take kindly to cheaters. ”
Time was ticking by. I needed to get ready, I needed my girl in my arms, and I started to get worried. I checked my phone, checking the time and knowing that she would have already arrived by now.
He clicked his tongue. “My, my, are you insinuating that we would cheat?” His grin turned viscous, "Sometimes you have to fight dirty to gain what you want.”
I tried to ignore his words, turning back to the flood of people that were about to witness the fight of a lifetime. Waiting for a certain blonde goddess to walk through the entrance and fill my senses.
“Looking for someone, Mr. Shooter?” his cruel voice said.
“Mind your fucking business,” I growled out.
“I certainly hope that she makes it on time. I would hate to see her miss this,” he said before turning away and leaving my sight.
“If I could wipe the smug smile off his face I would.” Otis sneered. He checked the time on his phone, then gave me a shove. “Come on, there’s only an hour. And you need to warm up, if you have a fighting chance.”
“Fucker, that doesn’t help me.”
“Take a few shots at me or Stray, it will make you feel better.” Otis smirked, shoving me to the back of the warehouse within the locker rooms.
My head still felt all over the place. It was swarmed with thoughts of doubt and I fucking hated it. I needed to remember who I was, who I needed to be. We had an enemy, a name to a face, and it was time to send it back to hell or burn it down once again.
Otis took my mind off the run in with the man in the suit, bobbing and weaving, pulling out the jabs and the chirping. Music blared outside in the audience, the awaiting audience preparing for a night of blood and gore.
I waited for Amelia to come through the locker room, the last piece of me. I couldn’t help but glance back and forth at the locker room door. I didn’t know if it was sudden nerves or the fact that I was completely obsessed with her, but I needed her like I needed my heart to beat in my chest.
I replayed his words, his taunting message that he hoped that she would come to the fight.
I let out a frustrated growl. I tried to find my phone, ignoring the bellowing from Otis and Stray.
I clicked on her name and waited with what felt like my last breath, waiting for her voice to echo in the phone.
A roar of chaos erupted as the announcer ramped up the crowd, filling the warehouse with excitement. The thunderous round of applause and screams sent a jolt of excitement in me. But the disappointment of getting Amelia’s voicemail ruined that.
“Shooter, let’s go, he’s getting ready for your walk out.” Hound Dog busted through the door.
I shook my head, “Something’s not right, Prez.” I clicked on her name again. The phone rang until it moved to her voicemail. My heart sank. Where was she?
“And in the other corner, he’s the blood thirsty animal, the caged demon,” the announcer boomed through the speaker.
“Now, Shooter. Come on,” Hound warned.
“She’s not here,” I said, grabbing my gear, with Otis and Stray trailing behind.
“I’ll go look in the crowd, maybe she can’t hear her phone.” Otis rushed out, brushing past Hound. I begged, I pleaded.
The announcer kept going with my introduction, the crowd erupting in more boisterous excitement, cheering me on.
In the hallway, Dillon waited for me, giving me a gentle nod.
Melody slid next to Hound Dog, resting her chin on his bicep, plastering on a proud smile.
My thoughts turned to Amelia, needing her by my side.
She wouldn’t have left me; she was in it for the long haul. My name was stitched on her back, she was mine, and I fully belonged to that beautiful woman.
I looked for Otis, scanning around the arena, trying to cling on to some indication that she was here.
My eyes flashed to the center ring, finding my brute opponent circling like a wild shark looking for his prey.
His darkened eyes pinned to me, his violent smile thirsty to take on me.
I tried to center myself, forcing myself to flip on the switch in my brain to tune out the man I was once was into the man the club needed me to be.
Ruthless, cold, and vengeful.
Otis came running back, worry in his eyes. “I can’t find her.”
My heart sank. She was nowhere in sight and I couldn’t find her. “Stray, grab me my phone. Now,” I yelled out watching my friend vanish back into the darkened hallway, rushing back with my phone intact.
I ripped off my glove, pulling the phone to my face, quickly trying to find the app where I looked at her cameras. All eyes were on me, time was ticking by and I worried that I was going to make the choice between my club and Amelia.
I was ready to choose her over the club as much as there was a pain in my chest for thinking that. But I would choose her over and over again until I drew my last breath.
The app kept spinning, trying to pull up the feed.
Error
I tapped it again and again and kept getting the same message.
Error
I jerked my head up and at the corner of my eye, I saw the cruel smile of a man that thought he was going to win. Then the pieces fell into place. It wasn’t a taunt to make me spin; it was a promise that was already being fulfilled. My heart disappeared, fearing that I was failing her again.
“It’s not fucking working.” I panicked, then heard the chuckles that were louder than the audience.
I bolted to the man, landing one punch to his face, ripping off my other glove.
I straddled him, the burst of anger clouding my judgement.
I saw red. I felt the warmth of blood splattering my face.
The fucker never lost his smile. His laugh echoed in my head.
I felt the hands jerk me back, pulling me to my feet.
Hound Dog stood in front of me, glaring at me, silently warning me not to do any more damage. Franklin stood up, wiping his face from blood, flicking his gaze to me. “What’s the matter? Something make you mad?”
“What did you do?”
“What makes you think that I did anything?”
“Where is she?”
“Who?” He studied my face, and dramatically said, “Oh your little lady? Or whatever you heathens call your girls?” He flicked his attention to Melody standing beside us.
Hound Dog growled out, a fire in his voice.
The man clicked his tongue, “I only helped to make sure you were focused. You know it was a good idea that you wanted her husband to come home.” His blood started to drip on the floor from his bloody mouth.
“I’m going to fucking kill you,” I threatened, but we know I would bury the fucker… alive.
“Ah but you can’t. Contract states that everyone walks out of here alive, except perhaps the fighters.” He sauntered away, seeping back into the dark.
Hound looked back at me. “What did he mean? Shooter what did that fucker mean her husband?”
“She’s in trouble.”
Hound’s eyes flashed with red. Months ago he was the one in my position, wanting to risk everything for his woman.
“Stray,” he snapped, “you and a prospect head to her house.”
Dillon chimed in, “I’ll go, sir.”
Hound wanted to argue but knew it was a losing battle. Dillon wasn’t in fighting shape, and he knew that and yet he still wanted to help, be useful, still show some loyalty to the club.
“Fine, but you stay in the truck,” Hound Dog ordered.
“I’m going too,” Melody added with fury in her own voice.
Hound Dog flicked his attention to her, “Songbird, you’re staying here.”
“Well, too bad, I didn’t ask you.” She tilted her chin up to him. “You gonna stop me?”
“It’s not safe.” His voice almost softened.
“Let me do this. Please?” she pleaded. She was a good friend to Amelia, and Melody could hold her own, especially after the fire and kidnapping.
She was a strong woman but telling Hound Dog that was like telling a giant oaf that the tiny kitten could walk.
“She needs all the people she can get. I’ll bring my taser. ”
“You know I prefer you take my gun.”
“And have the thing knock me on my backside? No, thank you.”
Hound almost snickered, like a lovesick fool. “No, that’s my job.” He looked deep into her eyes, her eyes enchanting him to make him say yes. He grumbled and finally stopped fighting it.
Melody approached me, cupping my cheek. “I’ll bring her back, Shooter. You just fucking win this sucker, okay.”
Instantly, we were all reminded what a gift she was for the club. A brave soul that knew how to show love and adoration without words. The softness that battled with the rough edges of Hound Dog. Just like my Amelia.
I nodded, watching Melody, Stray, and Dillon rush off. I couldn’t slip into the thoughts of what if or were they too late. Amelia was a fighter and if something was happening to her, I hoped that she would fight until she didn’t have to.
Franklin leaned against the wall, chuckling to himself like he already won. His dominos falling into place.
With a slap on my back, Hound Dog called out to Otis and found Hank to walk me to ringside to begin the night that would change our lives one way or another.
The lights shined brightly, the roar of the crowd, and the intensity of the fight ahead of us, it was a switch turned off in my head. Finally, the demon was ready to unravel and devour.