by Rymer, Adair
I grabbed his tight braids with my off hand and cocked my arm to give him a final blow that would send him to the hospital. Or the morgue. There were no refs, and very few rules. You either give up or get carried out.
The payout for the winner was always much bigger if the opponent had to be carried out of the circle. The crowd lost their minds all around me, they were the Roman emperor and they just gave me the thumbs down for this kid.
I just shoved the fighter to the ground instead, he was done. The sadistic mob, booed and cursed at me for the short fight, but I didn't care. I wasn't here for them or for their money.
Why was I here?
Malcolm darted in and raised my arm, “Arsenal is your winner!”
I was here because I was the best, that's why. Playing dress up and pretending that life was different with Val, that was all a fantasy. It was time to wake up.
“We're losing them, man.” Malcolm leaned in, he wasn't happy. He'd gone through a lot of trouble to set this fight up on such short notice, who the fuck knows what he promised everyone that attended. “Double or nothing?”
Another fight, this soon? I'd only ever done one per night, back-to-back fights were unheard of. I took a moment before answering. Val was off living her dream, Mom was stable and recovering and Romeo would be taken care of. All my ties had been severed, no one knew or cared what happened to me now. Fuck it, what did I really have to lose?
I spat a wad of gore onto the ground then nodded.
Malcolm immediately hushed the crowd and made the announcement. The odds were announced and the bets were made. I limbered up and did what I could to clean and bandage my wounds. I sat down on a fold out stool, and was left with a few minutes of reflection.
Why did I spare my opponent? The old Arsen would have thrown that last punch and seriously fucked that kid up. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, my time with Val had changed me. I wasn't as angry anymore. Being around her gave me this sense of peace and acceptance that I'd never found anywhere else.
Missing her was already starting to become unbearable, and it had only been a few hours. I was beginning to feel like I had made a terrible mistake. I was so mad at her, that I wasn't thinking straight.
Val had changed too, not just into the plastic Hollywood sensation that I first met in the lobby of her father's apartment a few months back, but back into the old Val. Every minute I spent with her made me remember how amazing that girl from high school was, and how she was worth risking everything for.
The air horn sounded, stealing away my introspection. I looked up to see not one, but two men take their shirts off and enter the circle. I glanced back at Malcolm, narrowing my eyes in a hateful glare. He shook his and mouthed the words 'double or nothing'.
Malcolm, you bastard. I thought he simply meant a second fight, not two opponents! It made me wonder who Malcolm had bet his own money on. He was probably still pissed about me bailing on him last time. I reminded myself that I didn't have any friends left, especially not here where money was involved.
I got off my little stool and stepped into the circle. Both men charged me right away, trying to get to either side of me. They didn't have glass on their knuckles, but that probably wouldn't matter. They weren’t as fast as my last opponent, but they were definitely stockier, and if one got behind me I was fucked.
I batted their strikes away, dodging and weaving around them. I got my licks in too, but it was hard going. Every time I guarded against one, I left myself open against the other. The fight went on for fifteen long minutes. There were no rounds, no ref, no time limits and no one to throw in the towel. I doubted I'd even be able to quit if I wanted to, this fight looked like it only ended when someone stopped moving.
I was beginning to think that that someone was going to be me.
For every hit I landed against one of them, I opened myself up to take two more. I was damn tough, but even I couldn't go on like this for long. After a while my shoulders dipped in exhaustion. My fists felt like they were encased in concrete blocks, it was hard to keep my defenses up.
Finally a blow struck me between the shoulder blades, then another caught me in the ribs and on the side of my head. I could feel at least two cracked ribs, a concussion, heavy blood loss, and now my vision began to blur.
These guys were as ruthless as I was back in the day, they wanted blood just as bad as the crowd. I would've been able to take either of them in a straight fight, but not both at the same time. I'd never even heard of someone winning against two guys at once.
A heavy blow from somewhere, dropped me to a knee. My whole body was slick with blood and I had trouble breathing. I was in really bad shape.
Right then I knew that I wasn't walking out of this fight alive.
My time with Val, although wonderful, had robbed me of the anger that always kept me alive in fights like these. I slid a hand over a tattoo on my chest that always reminded me of Val. I tried to at least protect that one last piece of her.
One of the men grabbed my short hair and wrenched my head up toward the crowd. They were going to give the audience what they wanted, what I refused to do just a short time ago. All I could do now was wait for the end to come. I no longer cared if I lived or died. My heart wasn't in any of this.
“Arsen!” screamed an impossible voice from the crowd. It was the Val I remembered from high school. She wore her customary dark hoodie with her hair covering half of her porcelain face. She must have gotten out of drama club early enough to catch my wrestling match, I thought, deliriously.
I let the hand guarding my tattoo drop. I was glad I got to see her one last time, even if she wasn't really here.
Chapter 23
Valentine
Past
“Oh my God.” I ended the call with my new agent, Michelle, and fell into my sofa. I was amazed and awestruck. I had just found out that I was cast in the lead role of The Burning Game! This was huge! After several long, hard years, I'd finally made it. I couldn't wait to tell...
Why did I still think of him first after my many failures and too few victories?
Still, his name was the first in my head, even while I was with other boyfriends. All of those boys were mistakes thrust on me by my father. I had friends too, but they mostly just came to parties with me. None of them really knew me as well as Arsen. I doubt I would've even liked any of them if I'd met them in high school.
Arsen probably would've made some kind of joke about my head being too big to fit through doors now that I was a celebrity. For as angry at him as I still was, I hoped he was ok. I wished I could just get over him, but a big part of me was glad I couldn't.
I had met so many famous people, and none held a candle to Arsen. I knew I would never meet anyone like him again. All I could hope for now was that his hold over me would eventually go away.
Or, that someday he might come back to me.”
Present
I made my way into what looked like an abandoned warehouse. I had no idea what the dress code was at one of these fights, so I tried to appear as nondescript as possible. Michele would've given me so much hell if I was recognized here. I wore a large dark hoodie and the plainest jeans I had, the look reminded me of the clothes I wore back in high school.
A well groomed, clean shaven man stood by a stairwell that led further down. He reminded me of a bouncer, like at a club. His head was down, browsing something on his phone. I paused, making as little noise as possible. I was all alone in a really, really bad part of town, heading into an illegal fighting club.
Run away before he sees you!
My anxiety threatened to overwhelm me. I'd never done anything like this before. What should I even say to the man? Was there some sort of code word I had to give him to get in? I should have asked that bartender more questions!
He snapped his gaze up at me, carefully looking me over. “You looking for something?”
“I—” I swallowed the lump that rose in the back of my throat and forced myself to answ
er. I needed to say something. 'It's all just acting,' Arsen's voice echoed in my memory.
“Yeah,” I said, feigning confidence like I belonged there. “I'm here for the fight.”
“There's no fight here.” He eyed me skeptically, then went back to his phone. “Sorry.”
What? There had to be! This was the location Arsen had written down and it was way too sketchy not to have something going on. This had to be the right place.
Part of me was relieved. I tried, didn't I? I could leave knowing that I at least made the effort. Besides Arsen left me, not the other way around. Maybe he wanted to be left alone. Dozens more excuses crowded into my frightened mind.
Did he really want to be left alone after his father died?
No. I came here for a reason.
“Don't fuck with me, asshole.” I couldn't leave until I saw him.
“Excuse me?” His head shot back up. Well, that got his attention.
“I came for the glass fight.” A steely reserve filled my tone, it sounded like I belonged there. “How much is it going to cost me to get in?”
The bouncer eyed me for a moment, not letting on if I convinced him or not. Then he stood aside and told me.
I handed him the money and brushed past him. I heard the cheers echoing up the stairwell when I reached the next landing. A few hundred dollars was all it took to watch a man get beaten to death. This was Arsen's world, the thought made me shiver.
Soon after that I saw the crowd standing around a filthy, blood streaked circle. All I could make out from my obscured vantage point was that there were three men fighting, each of them stained red and glistened in the hard fluorescent light.
I couldn't immediately make out who was fighting right away, it was just a mass of limbs and grunts. My stomach knotted and twisted with the sound of every sickening blow that landed. The cheers that followed made me sick. I pushed closer, praying that I made it in time.
Please let that not be him in there. Please, please, please, let that not be him!
I broke through the throng of smoking and cursing businessmen and found myself at the edge of the circle.
And there was Arsen.
A kick to the back of his legs, dropped Arsen to his knees. He was shirtless and so horribly bloody. I was queasy at the sight of what happened to him, it made my heart ache worse than it ever had before.
“He lost! Let him go!” My scream was lost in the chaotic din of blood lust. No one heard me or no one cared.
“That's not how this works.” A fat, suited man next to me laughed at my naivety, cigar smoke billowed from his nose and mouth.
A fighter raised Arsen's head for crowd approval. The other fighter readied a strike and then I suddenly realized what the fat man meant. There was no forfeiting.
Oh my God... I was about to watch the man I love die.
“Arsen!” I screamed with desperation.
Arsen looked right at me, his eyes looked dull and dazed. He smiled at me, letting the hand drop from over his heart. He was giving up.
His hand wiped away some of the blood on his chest and that's when I saw the tattoo. I thought he was protecting his chest from some blow, but it wasn't that at all. An image of the pendant I gave him was tattooed over his own heart. How had I missed that until now? He told me he lost it.
In the last few moments of his life, he was thinking about me.
He needed my help, how could I possibly give up on him now?
“Arsen, It's me Val! You need to get up!” I tore off my hoodie and brushed the hair back out of my face. I was still a well known celebrity who was about to become infamous.
I heard the men around me say my name in disbelief. A few pulled out their phones and began taking videos. My career just took its second big hit of the day. There was no hiding my presence now, tomorrow it would be all over the news. The crowd's previous uproar fell to a near deafening silence. Even the other fighters seemed surprised, but not enough to let Arsen go.
I was hoping that the shock of me being there would somehow give me the power to stop the fight. I walked out into the circle, but a dark, rough hand grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
“The fight continues,” said the heavily accented, black man who had me by the wrist.
Of course, just being here wasn't enough, I felt so stupid! What else could I do for him? I had to try something! And then I remembered... I was his good luck charm, he never lost when I was at his matches.
“Get up, Arsen! Fight for me!” My words were loud and unmistakable.
Fire sparked in Arsen's eyes as his lucidity returned.
Arsen brutally lashed out. He struck one of the distracted fighters directly in the balls. The man who held Arsen's hair collapsed in a quivering heap, blood running down his inner thighs. The other fighter hopped away and got his guard back up. This fight wasn't over yet.
Arsen's muscles went taught, he looked like we was made of solid steel. Arsen moved, blocked and countered each blow with strength and confidence. Where my heart had stopped earlier, now it raced out of control.
I'd never seen him look so powerful before. Gone was the beaten down Arsen of moment's earlier, now a man with something to fight for stood in his place.
Arsen narrowly avoided an extremely quick uppercut, then countered with a heavy knee, that caused his opponent to double over. Arsen delivered a mean right cross that knocked the man out immediately.
Arsen had won.
I rushed up and hugged him, not caring about the blood that ruined my T shirt and pants. I wiped away the blood and sweat from his face and I kissed him with the desperation of someone reuniting with a loved one they thought was dead. Arsen groaned in pain, but refused to let me pull away from him.
I hugged him again, looking out over the dumbfounded crowd. 'Aren't they related somehow?' 'I think that's her brother.' Speculation ran wild all around us, but neither of us paid it any attention. Despite the catastrophic damage I'd done to my career, when Arsen kissed me, I truly felt like everything was going to be alright.
In the back by the door that led to the staircase back up, I saw an eerily familiar silhouette. I did a double take, but I was right. There in the back of the crowd, eying me angrily, was my father.
What the hell was he doing here?
I knew he was in LA shooting his own film, but him coming to an underground fight didn't make any sense. He was gambling again How desperately did he need money if he was at a venue like this?
For a moment, I thought he might run up and scream at me for destroying his legacy, but then I saw the amount of phones aimed at me and knew that he wouldn't dare. He'd never want any evidence of him at a seedy place like this.
I stared back at him defiantly, my back straightening. I wanted him to see me like this, I was done apologizing. I was proud to stand with the man I loved, regardless of the consequences.
“Say it again.” Arsen said, pulling my gaze back to someone worthwhile.
“Say what again?” I helped Arsen out of the hot lights and the slick, blood stained fighting circle.
“Tell me you love me, Val.” There was a twinkle in the eye that wasn't too swollen.
“You are such an idiot. What were you thinking? You almost got yourself killed!” All my balled-up emotions flooded out. I could've lost him forever, the thought terrified me. “And if you ever do anything this foolish again, I will never have sex with you ever again!”
Arsen just smiled, “I love you too.”
“Let's get you to a hospital, 'Arsenal.'” Despite my anger, he managed to pull a small smile out of me. My anger dissolved into just relief that Arsen was alive. I dragged my fingers gently over the tattoo of my heart pendant on his chest, it even had the V in the middle. “I'm yours remember? I'll always love you.”
Chapter 24
Valentine
Present
“Easy, boy.” Arsen stopped Romeo from jumping up on him. Instead, Arsen knelt down, scratched the dog's head and rubbed his stomach. Romeo was
always excitable, but it was easy to see that he loved Arsen more than anyone else.
“Jump on him, Romeo, he deserves it.” I locked the door to my apartment. It had been an extremely long night. Day? We didn't get out of the hospital till noon. I couldn't even remember the last time I slept. I was so exhausted.
“I leave him in your care for less than a day and you've turned him into an attack dog.” Arsen shot me a half smile and a knowing look.
Attack dog, hardly. Romeo was stretched out on his back soaking up as many rubs and scratches as he could. But leave it to Arsen to be so casual about thirty-seven stitches, three cracked ribs and enough bruising to make an overripe banana jealous.
The built-in apartment phone rang. I looked at it dumbfounded for a few seconds, how were people calling me on that? I didn't even know I had a landline, let alone what the number was. I guess that's how crazy the media was getting over what happened with us last night. I guess it wasn't that surprising, really.
They were just as bloodthirsty as any illegal fighting crowd, probably even more so. Arsen and I had just turned our phones off, we both knew what was coming and neither of us wanted to deal with it.
There were so many things to think about and discuss, like why the hell my father was at the fight last night. At the hospital, Arsen told me he'd never seen him at one before, but his associate Malcolm told him that my father had some serious gambling debt with a local loan shark.
My father was always a man of expensive appearances, maybe that lifestyle finally caught up with him. I could only imagine how much he owed if it forced him to attend fights like last night's.
“Alright, Romeo, let Arsen get some rest. Doctor's orders.” I helped Arsen off the floor, all those other questions would have to be answered after we'd gotten some sleep.
The doctor also ran a few blood tests on Arsen, just in case. Who knows what kind of diseases he could have been exposed to in that filthy place? Miraculously, they all came back negative. He was completely clean.
