Chapter 26
twenty-six
Friday night fights at the Lodge are a blood sport with two tiers.
Upstairs, the sanctioned matches fill the seats, and the bar slings overpriced drinks. That’s for the tourists.
Down here in the warehouse basement? The air’s damp, the floor’s sticky, the walls are concrete, and the fighters aren’t playing for belts.
They’re playing for things worth bleeding for.
Ashlyn’s supposed to be preoccupied back in Theta Manor with a few of my initiates making sure she doesn’t go anywhere. And I’m trying not to think about this being our last night together. If I don’t say anything, maybe she’ll just…
Choose to stay.
Here? I’ve got Tade in my corner, wearing the same expression he had the night I tried to jump off the Theta Manor roof into the pool—a look that says, How fucking stupid is this idea?
“These are almost pros,” he mutters as he squirts water into my mouth.
“I need this win,” I say, letting the chill liquid roll over my tongue. “And I’m getting it.”
Across the cage, Lou Rockson stretches out a kick high enough to scrape the lights. He’s got a mean frown carved into his face, like he’s picturing how he’ll mount my skull on his wall.
“Come on, pretty boy!” Lou yells. “You scared?”
I get up and wander to the middle of the ring, the referee eyeing both of us carefully.
“Not only am I not scared, but I’m also willing to make a side wager, prick.”
He bites his mouthguard and narrows his eyes at me. “What kind of wager?”
“If you win this round…you can have my watch.”
“Who the fuck—”
“It’s worth 100k.”
His eyes flicker. “And if you win?”
“I’ll take your girl in the front row for the night.” I nod toward the busty brunette leaning forward on the bench.
Lou glances at her, jaw flexing. “No way—”
“She’s worth more than the watch?” I feign surprise, and the red creeping up his neck tells me I’ve got him on tilt.
The ref waves us in. First round’s brutal. Lou’s got the reach, the weight, and the speed to sweep me straight to the ground. His fists crash into my ribs like sledgehammers until something in my side pops. Arms locked in guard, I make it to the bell with every inhale tasting like iron.
Struggling to my corner, I try to take a breath, but the pain surges through my side. Tade rushes into the cage, squirts the water bottle into my waiting mouth, then tapes up my chest enough so I can survive.
“Too obvious,” he says.
“Really?” I ask with a shrug. “Thought I sold it.”
Second round, I sweeten the pot. “Forget the girl. My custom Maserati.”
Lou grins through his mouthguard. “For what?”
“One favor from the Sicconi family. You’re their youngest, right? Go by Rockson just for show?”
His eyebrows flicker, which tells me I’m right. “How the hell you know that?”
“I make it my business.”
“Sure. I’ll ask the old man for a favor for you…”
“Aiden Cardell.”
Some level of recognition crosses his face. “Oh. So not only pretty, but loaded, too.”
“You understand me. We good for it?”
“Yeah, bitch. I don’t think you’re going to be so good-looking when I’m done this round.”
And I’m not. He takes me down to the mat, into an immediate lock on my legs, then batters my nose, my cheeks. Anywhere he can reach. The pain starts to feel good after a minute. In fact, I hardly notice it. I smile as he continues his rampage against me until the bell rings.
Tade shakes his head at my acting skills as I stumble back to the stool as if I can barely hold it together.
Eyes already swelling shut. Cut that needs taping. Bruised ribs. Broken finger. I’ll pop that back in later.
Final round. Time to make my move.
“I’ll enjoy my new car tonight,” Lou yells at me, dancing back and forth.
“What if we increased that bet?”
He almost laughs with glee. “What do I win now? A house? A yacht?”
“Your mom’s freedom.”
Lou freezes to ice in front of me. “What the fuck did you say?”
“She’s spending twenty in the State Pen, right? Still has ten to go, no chance of parole?” The woman did get a bad rap. Shouldn’t be in there. But still…I need something only Lou is dumb enough to provide me.
“Yeah…”
“I can make all that go away.”
He seems to consider me for a long moment, tears glistening in his eyes. “You’d do that.”
“I’m a Cardell. Of course I can. We own the—”
“Law,” he finishes, as if he’s suddenly realizing the power that I hold.
“You understand me,” I repeat.
He’s already practically nodding before I even ask for my winnings. Glancing over his shoulder, he seems to study his girlfriend for a long moment. “For her?”
“No, I’m over my crush already. But there is something you can give me.”
“I’m sure. What is it?”
“Your family’s shares in the White Wolf Lodge and Casino are about…twenty-three percent in total now?”
As if confused, he rubs a hand through his hair. “You want shares of this dump?”
“That’s exactly what I want.”
“For Mom to get out of that hellhole. Okay, bitch. Game on.”
His taped knuckles smack mine in a grimy pact. Lou thinks it’s another bet. Those pieces of the company are worthless to a guy like him. Probably not to his family, but he won’t realize that until it’s too late. They certainly aren’t nothing to me.
The ref waves us in.
I don’t circle. I don’t dance. One spin, one perfect roundhouse, heel to temple—and he drops like a marionette with its strings cut. Out cold.
The crowd explodes, the cage rattling under their fists. The ref captures my wrist, shoves it skyward. Winner.
And just like that, the Asshole-In-Charge owns nearly a quarter of Ashlyn Donovan’s father’s empire.