Until the Bell Rings: An MMA Fighter Romance

by Roxy Wilson

  “Dad is just making money in a world that wants to keep him down,” Malcolm said. “You’ll see, Aunt Zahra. So will Mom. I’m not going to be like him. I’m just going to make enough to get into school.”

  I knew the tone, and tried to catch his attention again, but he hung up.

  The urge to throw my phone against the wall was strong, but I carefully sat it down instead. Think, think, Zahra. I should call the police. Tell them Tyson is up to something and have them intervene…but if they did, and Malcolm was caught up in all that mess, that really would be the end for him. He was an adult now. He could end up in prison, depending on what was going on. Even if he didn’t, it would be a black mark on his record.

  How could this have happened? What could Tyson possibly have said that would convince Malcolm this was his only option? There was no telling. Jackie was right; when he wanted to be, Tyson could talk a game around anybody. Especially his son. Maybe he was misguided, and maybe he was stuck in the past that he made for himself, but he loved Malcolm and had fought hard to try and keep custody of him. It would have been better for Tyson to just be another absentee father.

  I started to dial Jackie’s number. She needed to know what was happening. Except, she might very well call the police herself. She believed the best about the boys in blue, only because it had been a final call to the police about Tyson before that triggered the divorce. They’d taken her side without question; not that they were wrong for it, but she didn’t realize they wouldn’t be so lenient on Malcolm. By now, Tyson was well known, and they’d assume the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

  Walter would be more level headed probably, but although he loved Malcolm like his own, he’d come into the picture later on. Malcolm liked him, even called him Dad from time to time; but they weren’t connected like Jackie and Malcolm were, or even me and Malcolm. There was one man in Malcolm’s life and it had always been his crook father.

  What I needed was to find out where they were, what they were up to. If I could just get close to that boy, I could talk some sense into him. Especially if I could get Tyson in the same room. He scared me, in all honesty—but not enough to keep me away.

  The problem was, I was short on criminal contacts. There were some ex-cons in my case file, but they tended to keep their mouths shut for the most part. There was Gerome, Tyson’s older brother; but Gerome had left town two years ago and either wouldn’t know or wouldn’t say anything if he did. I flipped uselessly through my contacts and the files on my desk, trying to think of anything. I was almost ready to just go walk through Tyson’s neighborhood.

  And then I shifted a file aside and saw the piece of paper with Riley’s number on it. I had meant to throw it away when I found it in my purse, while I was looking for something to take for my daily stress-headache. Why hadn’t I?

  It was a long shot. But, criminals knew criminals who knew more criminals. That was the way it worked and whatever Riley thought of himself, he was a criminal. Sounded like his brother was, too. I was just lucky like that.

  I didn’t have to think about it too long, not when it was the only thing I could grab on to at the moment. But my stomach still churned as I dialed the number and waited for him to answer. It was strange, feeling like I hoped he wouldn’t pick up even while I had a desperate hope that he was standing just outside and had all the answers and plans I needed.

  He answered.

  “Hello?” There was a note of hopefulness in his voice.

  I couldn’t speak right away. I had to swallow, and lick my lips. “Riley,” I said.

  “Zahra. Jesus…Zahra…Look, about before, I have to tell you that I—”

  “I’m not calling to give you a chance to explain,” I said, even though I wanted him to be able to say anything that would convince me otherwise. That way was dangerous and slippery, though, and I’d had enough of all that, thank you very much. “I have a problem. A serious one, and I don’t know who else I can call that might have…connections like I’m hoping you do. It’s about Malcolm.”

  Riley’s breath was sharp over the phone, but he didn’t argue with me just now. “Your nephew,” he said. “Yeah. Okay. What do you need?”

  Just like that. Skip the begging; I needed help, and Riley was there. I wished that fixed everything, but it didn’t. “He’s involved with something Tyson’s up to. I need to find out where Tyson is.”

  “You don’t have his address or something?” Riley asked, but without a trace of sarcasm.

  “No,” I said, “I don’t. If I did, I would be knocking on his door. But Malcolm thinks he can do one ‘job’ for him and that’s all, so there’s something going on, probably soon, because Malcolm has been spending more and more time away from home.”

  “Okay,” Riley muttered. “I don’t know…what’s he into? Tyson, I mean; you said before he’d been in prison. What for?”

  “Once for dealing drugs,” I said, “but that was a long time ago. The last time, it was for stealing cars. Now, he mostly works in chop shops, I think, but I know he hasn’t got Malcolm doing that. Not if Malcolm thinks he’s gonna make a big score.”

  “Probably still cars then,” Riley muttered. “Okay. I’ll see what I can find out.”

  “You know people?” I asked. I realized after it came out that I sounded like I was judging him for it, if he did. I was, but at least for now I just wanted to know this was a real chance to find something out.

  “Mostly I know people who know people,” he said. “I don’t get involved in shit like that, Zahra. Not unless I have to.”

  “I’m sure,” I said. I had to be careful. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered, but the last thing I wanted was to change his mind by being a bitch this very moment. Whatever he was, right now Riley was the only lead I had. “Just call me when you can with whatever you can find out.”

  “I will,” he said. He didn’t hang up, though, and neither did I. After a moment he spoke again. “Listen I know I don’t have a right, and it’s not a trade, but I need you to let me explain myself. Not now. But, later.”

  The million things he might say that would make it all better, but which were almost unthinkably impossible, ran through my brain hopefully. It was a nice thought, that there might be some legitimate reason that I would hear and think, “Oh, well, in that case I guess I understand why you beat people up in secret for money.” But the truth was, every crime was a gateway to more. Like Tyson. He’d started out selling weed. By the time he got arrested, it was for domestic abuse but he was already peddling cocaine at that point. Then it was cars, and who knew what it was now? Momma was right. A person was rarely just one thing. What were the chances that Riley was just an illegal cage fighter?

  Even so, even with all that in my mind telling me to turn him down, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him no. “Let's just deal with this first. I don’t know what kind of timetable we’re working with.”

  “Fair enough,” Riley said. “We’ll keep him safe, Zahra. Okay? I promise.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. And then, almost grudgingly, “Thank you, Riley.”

  “Anything for you.” He hung up.

  I stared at the phone for a moment after he did, before I finally put it away and rubbed my forehead while I wondered if I would ever get myself free of Riley Dern.

  And, more than that, whether I wanted to after all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Riley

  I hung up with Zahra and called Tully straight away. From the way she sounded, there was no time for me to indulge the excitement I felt hearing her voice again and thinking that maybe, if I could just tell her everything, I could have another shot. Third time’s the charm, right?

  Tully answered, blearily. “What?”

  It was late, and Tully was old. He’d been in bed for at least an hour probably. “There’s trouble. I need to find someone.”

  “Go on Craigslist.” Tully grunted. “Use protection.”

  “I need to find that guy, Tyson. The one you said goes by
the name Tyko,” I said, pushing through Tully’s snark.

  I heard something shifting around on his end. “Why?”

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “And I think I need to find him fast.”

  “This is about the girl?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, “it is. Help me out?”

  Tully sighed. “You got anything else to go on?”

  “Zahra said he used to run drugs and steal cars. Worked in a chop shop, too, maybe still does.”

  “Any idea who else he runs with?”

  “None, but right now he’s running with Malcolm; the kid from the Digg’s. Sounds like he’s getting him into some trouble.”

  Tully snorted. “People get themselves into trouble.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I said, losing patience. “I’ll pass that along. Can you help or not?”

  “No promises,” Tully said. “I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  He hung up. I wanted to call Zahra back, tell her I was working on it, that Tully knew the people that knew everything in this town. But, that might just get her hopes up. Plus, that wasn’t what I wanted to talk to her about anyway and now wasn’t the time, I gathered.

  I hadn’t been asleep when Zahra called, which was lucky, but a bad sign. I needed the rest after a day like this, but I couldn’t. If I wasn’t thinking about her, I was thinking about the fight, and about what Tully and I had talked about, and about Logan and whether I was doing the right thing by him.

  How far would my father have expected me to go to help him out? There was no way to know, now.

  My finger hovered over Logan’s contact. He ran in the rougher circles from time to time as well. Or he used to. Lately he was more of a pariah. Still, he might know someone. And if anyone owed me, it was him.

  Logan wasn’t asleep yet. I could hear the TV in the background. I doubted he slept much at all these days. “Riley? What’s up? Something wrong?”

  Of course. Because why else would I call my little brother?

  Then again, he wasn’t wrong.

  “Yeah, something,” I said. “Listen, Tully’s on it too, but I need to find somebody. Might be in stolen cars or even drugs. Tyson, maybe called Tyko, too. You know anybody that might know him?”

  “Why would you think I might?” Logan asked. Offended. Really?

  “Why the hell do you think, Logan?” I rubbed my face. “Look, I don’t care how you do, if you do—it’s important. It has to do with that girl you ran off.”

  “What do you need to find this guy for?” Logan asked, as if he had a right.

  “He’s got this kid, Zahra’s nephew, and might be getting him in trouble. Can you help or not?” I tapped my foot, and then kicked aside a towel and pulled my shoes out and fitted my feet into them. No sense sitting still.

  “I don’t know,” Logan said. “Maybe. No one really talks to me anymore, what with the word the sharks got out on me. I’m a fucking pariah. But I can see what’s up. Might take a while.”

  “I don’t have a while,” I said. “Any lead is fine as long as it’s good.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Logan said, begrudged but willing. “Keep your phone on.”

  “Obviously,” I growled. I hung up on him and pulled a jacket on. Tully and Logan could call me from anywhere. I didn’t have their history—other than the cage fights I kept my nose mostly clean—but I knew a few people in low places.

  I left my building and took off north and east, toward the part of the river district that had been obsolete since the south pier opened up. It was where the cage fights took place, and that wasn’t the worst that went on there. The local mob, such as it was, took a cut of everything that happened over there in exchange for insuring that nobody in charge took too close a look at the place. It was the sort of neighborhood where you had to run a few blocks to call the cops if you wanted them to come. That was fine. I wasn’t looking for cops. I was fishing.

  Two blocks past the buildings that were only partially boarded up, I got lucky. Someone tried to mug me.

  He was probably only twenty three or four, a squat dark-eyed kid with his high-collared, thick down coat zipped up over his face so you couldn’t really give a good description of him other than that he was short and wide. He didn’t flash a gun, but he had a hand in his coat pocket. “Hey man,” he said, “this a bad neighborhood to walk around late at night. You got a dollar?”

  “I don’t,” I told him. I stood perfectly still.

  “You sure?” he asked. He took a step closer. “How about you show me your wallet.”

  I frowned. “Are you asking for my wallet?”

  “Man just show me what you got,” he said. “I’m not playing with you.”

  “I don’t have anything,” I said. “You’re welcome to check for yourself.” I put my hands up and behind my head. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  He made a scoffing sound with this teeth behind the zipped collar, and then crept forward. He reached the hand that wasn’t in his pocket out to pat down my jacket and sweat pant pockets. I hadn’t brought my wallet; I wasn’t lying. About that, anyway. He paused when he felt my phone, and become momentarily focused on his prize.

  I went for the arm in his coat first. There was half a chance nothing was in there anyway, but if there was, I wanted it out of what was otherwise going to be a very short struggle. It wasn’t a gun, it turned out, but it was a small knife. He tried to drop it into his free hand when I gave his wrist a sharp tug, but I blocked the exchange, and planted an elbow in the kid’s neck as I drove him against the nearby building.

  He struggled a bit more until I head butted him, hard, right above the eyes and then waited. He didn’t struggle again; instead, like most any other bullshit wannabe criminal, he started begging. “Okay, okay, I get it man; you’re a badass. You win. I was just fucking around, okay? Just like, pranking you, man; take it easy!”

  I didn’t care about that, and didn’t bother to acknowledge what he said. “I’m looking for a guy named Tyko. You know him?”

  “No, man, no…I don’t know anybody, man, I’m new here, you know?”

  I put just a little more pressure on his neck. “No, I don’t. And no, you aren’t. Don’t lie to me. I’m looking for Tyko.”

  He opened his mouth to talk, but couldn’t. I eased back. Just a hair. “Really,” he said, “honestly, man, I don’t know anybody named Tyko.”

  “What about Tyson?”

  “Mike Tyson?” he offered.

  I grunted, and stared him down. “You had a knife. I can badly injure you, and get away with it. Who around here knows everything going on?”

  “I can’t just tell you shit like that man, if you’re a cop—”

  “I’m not a cop.”

  “If you was you wouldn’t tell me, man. What am I, stupid?”

  “Yes,” I said. “You clearly are. I don’t care what you think. Tell me anything useful, right now, or I’ll break your shoulder and it will never work right again. I can see you’re right handed. I can make it so you can never jerk off with that arm for the rest of your life. Am I clear?” It was mostly true. It wasn’t like he’d be taking himself in for surgery to fix what I could do.

  He nodded, shaking as he did. “I hear you. Uh…look, there’s this chick. La Rosita. She knows everything. Hooks people up with what they need. She’s at—”

  “Take me,” I said. I let him go.

  He started to run, which I expected. I took his ankle out the moment he did, and he face planted into the concrete. “I’m faster than you,” I said. “Run, and I’ll break your knee. Try to hit me, I’ll break your arm.” I was calm about it, which was surprising to me, when I realized it. It would have been easy to get pissed about the offense of being mugged, but it would have derailed me, too.

  “Get up,” I told him.

  He did.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Double D,” the kid said.

  I chuckled. “Seriously? What, for your man boobs?”

  “Naw, man,
” Double D said. “It’s because my dick is so big, it’s like I got two.” He sniggered like he thought it was funny. Maybe in whatever circle of friends he had, it was.

  “Take me to La Rosita…Double D,” I growled.

  He led me deeper into the neighborhood and down a side street. After the second block in that direction, my phone went off. Tully.

  “Tell me you got something useful,” I said.

  “Not much,” Tully growled. “People don’t like it when you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong. You know that, right?”

  “I’m aware, Tully,” I told him. “Anything is something.”

  “I don’t know about that,” he said. “But a guy I know from the cages says that, allegedly, someone’s made a big offer. Twenty cars in the next forty eight hours. No details other than that. But, they’re all coming from one place and going to a handful of shops. That’s the best I could do. No mention of Tyson specifically, but, he’s the go-to guy in the area.”

  “Alright. You know about La Rosita?” I asked.

  Tully sucked in a breath. “Yeah. Why? She involved in this?”

  “Not directly,” I said. “I’m going to see her now.”

  Tully was quiet.

  “You still there?”

  “Yeah…how’d you rate that?” Tully wondered.

  I smiled at Double D, who kept glancing at me over his shoulder. “I got ways.”

  “Right. Well, just be careful around her.”

  “She’s dangerous?”