by Tess Oliver
“We’ve got to go,” Pete said. “Visiting hours are over.”
Nix put his hand on the bar. “Hang in there, Bro. We’re not leaving Mexico without you.”
They turned to leave, and suddenly I felt sick with the need to be out of this place.
“Hey, Nix, Clutch—”
They stopped and looked back at me.
“I might still be stuck in here, but I’m really glad you guys came.”
“We’ll be on that flight home by tomorrow night, Dray.” Nix skewered Rico with an angry glare as he and Clutch pushed past him. Clutch made a point to glower down at him, and Rico adjusted the gun in his hand.
The office door shut, and the light turned off. I walked back to the bed, sat down and prepared for a long, dark night alone.
Chapter 24
Dray
Rico motioned me out of the truck. The sky was shadowed with dark clouds and the air was hot and suffocating. My hands were cuffed but he’d decided against the leg shackles.
The crowd was spilling out of the door. Several onlookers grinned at me as if they saw a bundle of money walking past them. The dimly lit bar smelled as rank as the inside of the jail cell. Obviously, there were no fire regulations. Enough people were crammed into the place to make it feel as if the walls could buckle from the press of bodies. The crowd vibrated with the anticipation of watching two men beat the crap out of each other.
All heads turned and the voices quieted as Rico shuffled me through to the backroom. I glanced around but couldn’t see Clutch’s tall head in the crowd. I wasn’t completely sure they’d be let into the fight. I hated the thought that I was going into this completely on my own.
We entered a small room that held one lone bench and some shelves stocked with tequila. Rico pointed to the bench and I sat. I was sure Rico could understand a lot of what I said, but we hadn’t spoken even two words to each other. I had nothing to say to the asshole. I just wanted to be done with this and on my way back home.
Rico’s guard pulled a key out of his pocket. The skin around his eyes and nose was black and blue. White cotton stuck out of his nostrils as if he’d actually been to a doctor. His hands shook nervously as he opened the lock on the handcuffs. Just when I thought he was going to take them off, he wrapped the free cuff under the metal armrest of the bench and then snapped it shut around my wrist.
“Really?”
He anxiously avoided any eye contact as if I might attack him with a bench attached to my arms.
The walls of the small space pulsed with the press of bodies in the main room. Rico returned with a weathered looking pair of fight gloves. He held them out for me. I lifted my hands the few inches I could to show him that I was cuffed to the bench. He yelled something at his guard that I was sure didn’t mean ‘good job’.
The guard hurried back over and took the cuffs off. Rico handed me the gloves and took a mouth guard out of his pocket. It was covered with black lint.
I shook my head. “Not putting that in my mouth.”
He walked over to the shelf and grabbed a bottle of tequila. He poured the liquid over the mouth guard and then handed it to me.
I stared down at the tattered gloves. There were no wraps to put on first. I peered up at his leathery face. “Yeah, because it’s all about safety, right?”
He shrugged pretending that he didn’t understand, or maybe sarcasm didn’t translate too well.
“I’m going to warm up.” I yanked off my shirt and stood without his permission, but Rico didn’t seem inclined to stop me. The noise in the main room grew. Just like with other fights, the enthusiasm and the impatience of the crowd increased as each minute passed. I was more than ready. Whoever my opponent was, as long as he didn’t play dirty, I planned on taking him out fast. I’d only finished with some stretches when a man wearing a long brimmed cap and holding, what I could only guess was, a bookie’s ledger came to the door. They exchanged a few words and then Rico waved for me to follow.
Heads bobbed up and down to get a look at me as I entered the room. I scanned the sea of heads, but only Junior’s ugly face peered out over the crowd.
There was no cage, no octagon, just a circle of sweaty, drunk spectators to keep the fighters from being thrown. A large, thin mat covered the wood floor. Two small stools sat at opposite corners. I waited for people to yell and wave their fists at me as the challenger, the outsider, but they seemed more curious than angry. I felt every eye on me as I walked to the corner. Then, suddenly it occurred to me that if I won, I might get torn apart by the mob. Some of them had probably put down a week’s pay against me. Win or lose, I was screwed. Like Nix had said, nothing about this sounded good.
Chapter 25
Cassie
I reached up and pulled the hood down over my forehead. The sunset and a flash thunderstorm had produced an amber sky that was fractured by the remaining storm clouds. Even with the short downpour, a perpetual cloud of dust and sand lingered in the dirt lot as every style and shape of car and truck pulled in to park. Rows and rows of vehicles circled the dilapidated building.
Some men lingered near their cars smoking cigarettes and listening to loud music through some less than quality speakers. Most had gone inside to wait for the fight. It had taken me only seconds to decide to fly to Mexico, but it had been a long, hard slog convincing Nix and Clutch that I needed to meet them in Mazatlan. Convincing them to let me attend the fight was even harder. In the end, they knew I would go with or without them. So, with huge reluctance, they gave in.
In high school, I’d been friends with a girl who could speak several dialects of Spanish. After college, she’d landed a job at the United States Embassy in Mexico. She was unable to do anything directly to help secure Dray’s release, but she had hooked us up with a savvy, young lawyer named Fernando, who spoke perfect English and knew the area of Sinaloa well.
Nix stood next to the rental car talking to Fernando. He had heard something significant while talking to some of the men milling around in the lot. It had something to do with the bet and the man who had arrested Dray.
I took a little stroll around some of the cars, keeping my face low and hidden in the hood. I peered back over my shoulder. Even though Nix was still deep in conversation with the lawyer, his eyes did not leave me, and I loved him for it. I’d traveled from New York directly to Mazatlan. I hadn’t even landed in California, and yet I still felt more at home here than I did in New York. It wasn’t the place but the people that made me feel as if I’d come home. I missed my friends terribly. I’d felt it even more acutely several hours earlier at the Mazatlan airport. I’d been standing alone with my backpack and then Nix, Clutch and Barrett walked into the terminal. Every head had turned as they stepped inside, and all I could think was that I’d miss them all so much it hurt just looking at them. They’d barely taken five steps inside the terminal when I raced across the slick tile floor and right into their arms.
It was neither the time nor place but I couldn’t stop myself from pulling out my tiny spy camera, a camera I’d truly grown to love. I snapped a picture of the golden sky. The amount of sunlight was perfect for picture taking, but the intriguing images were few and far between.
Two men hovered in front of a shirtless and heavily tattooed man who was sitting on the open tailgate of a truck. They were busy preparing his hands for a fight. He had to be Dray’s opponent. I accidentally kicked an empty can and one of the men looked up. I’d only seen him for a brief moment but I was certain it was Rico, the man Nix and Clutch had pointed out to me. I stared off into the distance as if I was just waiting for someone, and he returned to his task. It seemed strange that the man who’d brought Dray in to win a fight would be out helping his competitor get ready. I lifted my camera and took a few good shots of them wrapping the man’s hands.
I returned to Nix. Fernando had gone inside.
Chapter 26
Dray
Rico had left me standing in the center of the spectators. I stood in the corner and waited
like a man waiting for the executioner. There were no familiar faces, and I was definitely not on home turf. Men would walk past me and look me up and down as if they were checking out a horse to buy. After a good twenty minutes of pacing around and trying to loosen up, a murmur started in the crowd and cheers roared through the place. Apparently, my well-loved opponent had arrived.
His fans split apart like the red sea. He pounded his fist against his palm as he strutted toward the mat. He handed off his hooded warm-up jacket to one of the men who had accompanied him. He was big but not massive. He had tattoos covering every inch of his shoulders and arms and even a few on his shaved head. I’d always found that more ink meant less fight. A shit-storm of tattoos could make even the weakest fighter look tough.
Some little old guy with a mound of silver-gray hair and a gold hoop in his ear stepped through to the mat. I could only guess that he was the ref. As often as I’d stepped into a competition, the entire scene felt unfamiliar and unsettling. Nothing and no one were on my side. For the first time ever, I was fighting for something other than money or my standing as a fighter. I was fighting for my freedom, and the whole idea left a bitter taste in my mouth.
The crowd was nearly exploding with the desire to see blood, and since I’d come in as the challenger, it was my blood they wanted to see.
In the chaos of noise and bodies pushing against each other I spotted a tall blond head across the room. Clutch zeroed in on me right away. Just like the day before when he and Nix had walked into the jail, I felt an instant relief.
Clutch had a way of forging a path through a crowd of people like no one else I knew. He was at my corner in seconds. The men standing around me stared up at him in awe and with a good dose of fear.
I sat on the stool to take off my shoes and put on my gloves. Clutch knelt down next to me. “I am damn glad to see you. Thought I was going to go down on that mat and they were just going to roll me up in it like a cigar and throw me into the river. Especially after they lose their money.”
Clutch glanced around and leaned in closer. “That’s just it. Don’t know what the hell is going on, but we came with— we came with someone who understands Spanish and—”
“Pete came with you? Man we really screwed up his surfing vacation.”
“No, he’s not here.”
“You just happened to find a translator?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. Now, shut the hell up and let me talk. I thought Rico was bringing you into this as the long shot so he could make a bundle of money.”
“Yeah, that was the plan. Or at least that’s what I’d figured. We really haven’t had any productive two-way conversations.”
The crowd grew more agitated. The fight was about to begin.
“In the meantime, word got out that you took down three guys in the jail cell, including some gigantic dude.”
“Junior.”
Clutch lifted a brow. “Junior?”
“Yeah, he’s a goddamn beast. Almost makes you look normal in size. So, what’s this about?”
“The rumors have exploded. Everyone knows that you’re not just some sucker who got talked into stepping onto the mat against their local champ. It seems the odds have changed, and most of the money is on you.”
Rico watched Clutch and me from the corner of his eye as he talked to the referee.
“That doesn’t make sense. Rico doesn’t stand to make much if I’m not the long shot.”
The ref motioned for me to come to the center of the mat. I pushed to my feet.
“Just watch yourself,” Clutch called to me as I walked toward my opponent.
Chapter 27
Cassie
“Just make sure you stay hidden in that hood, Cass,” Nix said. “Dray would never forgive me if he knew. Not to mention that you’d throw off his concentration completely.”
My hand flew to my face. “Jeez, it smells awful in here,” I mumbled from behind my fingers.
Nix laughed. Instinctively, he reached to take a protective hold of my arm and then he thought better of it.
My shortness left me at a complete disadvantage as I tried to peer over the heads. “Did Clutch reach him?”
“Yeah, I see his big blond head over there, but I can’t see Dray from here.” The spectators seemed to be closing in on the center of the room. “I think the fight is starting soon.” Nix looked down at me. “Cassie, you have to keep your promise. At the slightest sign of trouble you get your bottom out to the rental car and lock all the doors.”
I patted my pocket with the keys. “Yes sir,” I said with a nod that pushed the hood back off my hair. I grabbed the edge of it and pulled it down again.
“Great, Sherlock, that’s some disguise you put together there.”
“Hey, it’s all I had in my overnight bag. I’ll be fine.” I leaned over to look through a small space between the rows of bodies, but I couldn’t see a thing. The cheering grew to an earsplitting roar that rattled the greasy light fixtures on the walls. “There must be a way to see something.” I looked back at the bar counter. The stools had emptied as everyone had pushed closer to the action. “Follow me. I have a plan.”
Nix and I skirted around the outside of the spectators. We climbed onto two stools. The view wasn’t great, but we could see over the heads to the center. The only head that was easy to recognize was Clutch’s. It made me feel more at ease just knowing he was close to Dray.
I stretched my neck up and leaned from side to side to get a view of the fight. Nix reached over and touched my arm. “Cassie, are you sure you even want to see this? You’ve always hated to see him fight.”
“I want to see, Nix. I want to make sure he’s all right. My stomach has been in knots ever since Scotlyn broke the news to me.” I spoke bravely, but the second I heard the first fist hit flesh, I sat down on the stool and pressed my arm hard against my stomach.
The din of the crowd nearly drowned out the sounds of the fight, but Nix’s face said it all. And none of it was good. He flinched twice as if he was the one getting punched. His forehead creased with worry as he peered up over the bobbing sea of heads. His shoulders relaxed for a second and then he jumped up off the stool. “Fuck,” he said quietly and then looked at me, almost as if he’d forgotten I was sitting right next to him gauging the fight by his reactions. “It’s nothing,” he said quickly.
“Oh no, that doesn’t look like nothing.” Before Nix could stop me and before I could stop myself, I climbed up on the stool and looked toward the center of the room. I nearly lost my footing as my gaze landed directly on Dray. He dragged the back of his arm across his mouth, but it did nothing to stop the river of blood. He leaned over and spit and then he turned around kicked his opponent on the side of his head. The guy stumbled a few steps and then lunged forward and threw his fist into Dray’s stomach. He doubled over and more blood shot from his mouth. I cried out and slipped off the stool. Nix caught me. He wrapped his arm around me to keep me from running toward the fight.
“Cassie, it’s the worst thing you can do right now. Clutch is right there. He’s not going to let anything happen to Dray.” He plopped me somewhat angrily onto the stool. “Stay right here, and don’t even think about climbing up on that stool again.”
I wiped my tears with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. Nix looked up over the crowd again. The spectators grew more and more restless. No one seemed happy about the fight. Nix’s face drew tight, and his expression made my tears flow faster. My hood had fallen off my head, but I didn’t care anymore.
I grabbed his arm. “Do something, Nix,” I sobbed. “Why doesn’t Clutch pull him out?”
A loud chorus of booing thundered through the room, and the walls shook with the sound of it. Then, in a split second, chaos broke out. A beer bottle flew into the center of the ring and then another. Nix grabbed my arm. “Get to the car now!”
I jumped off the stool, but the exit was quickly blocked. I found myself swept up in a sweaty jumble of angry men. I wa
s pushed along closer to the center of the room. “Nix!” I screamed, but there was no way he could hear me.
I pushed through the suffocating wall of bodies and shot through an opening. Clutch was fighting off half a dozen men as they tried to stop him from reaching the mat. A massive, horrid looking man had hold of Dray’s arms, and he was dragging him up off the floor. Dray’s face and chest were covered in blood.
“Dray!” I screamed.
His face lifted, but his lids were heavy. He tried to focus, but he was completely out of it. “Dray!” I screamed again.
His pales eyes opened. He looked at me across the room and then his head dropped again. An elbow hit me square on the side of the head, and I fell to the ground. A large boot stomped on my thigh. I screamed out in pain. I tried to push to my feet but was knocked down to my knees. My head spun and I felt close to suffocating. Then two giant hands grabbed my arms and yanked me to my feet. Clutch threw me over his shoulder and barreled through the hurricane of swinging fists and flying beer cans.
Clutch moved like a raging bull through the melee. He dropped me to my feet at the car. I hated the look on his face. Clutch was always in control. He was never scared, but he looked as if he’d just seen his best friend get torn to shreds by lions. “Where are the keys?”
It took me a second to decipher his simple question. I slid my hand into the pocket of my jeans and pulled out the keys. Clutch opened the car door and I slid inside. Then he shut the door and locked it. His long blond mane of hair flew behind him as he lumbered back toward the building.
Through blurry, tear-stained eyes I watched as people finished brawling out in the parking lot. Many had had enough excitement and they stumbled back to their cars and sped off. I looked through every window to catch a glimpse of one of the guys, but I’d lost sight of them completely. Dray had been dragged away from the fight, and I was sure they had gone after the man who’d taken him.
