Page 85 of Spike

“On the contrary,Mr. President. This is business. That crowd you hear out there isn’t made up ofboxing fans. It’s made up of gamblers. People who have placed wagers ofsignificant amounts in order to be here live on fight night. Not to mention thenumber of bets from those streaming the event from home or on their phones. Icouldn’t possibly leave all those people in the lurch.”

“Sounds like ayouproblem,” Minus said, clearly unshaken and unmoved by Edison’s words.

“Fuck thosedegenerate assholes out there,” I growled. “I’m here to keep you the hell awayfrom Trixie.”

“We don’t need aboxing match to squash that,” Minus said, clenching his fists. “In fact, why don’twe just settle this shit right now.”

“I told you thisis my fight, not the club’s,” I said, standing in between Minus and Edison.

“Seems like yourfighter should be left to make up his own mind. After all, he stands to make agreat deal of money tonight, even though he will undoubtedly lose. I’vepromised Spike the challenger’s purse of ten grand, and I don’t welch.”

“What about thewinner’s purse?” I asked.

“What Kevin willbe paid is none of your concern.”

“That’s not what Iasked,” I said. “You sprung a heavyweight on me as my opponent, so you’re gonnapay me double the champion’s purse. I figure he’s making at least three timeswhat you’re paying me.”

“I make forty-fivea fight,” Kevin said.

“Thanks, big man,”I said, turning back to Edison. “Ninety thousand dollars in my hand if I win.”

Edison sighed.“You don’t seem to understand. I didn’t bring you here to fight, I brought youhere to lose.”

“You clearly don’tknow shit about me if you think I’devertake a dive.”

“Who said anythingabout taking a dive? I expect you to lose fair and square.”

“Ninety thousand,”I repeated.

Edison shrugged.“Sure, why not. There’s zero harm in promising you something I’ll never have todeliver.”

“And you forgetabout the Mitchell family forever.”

“You fight, Iforget.”

“Deal,” I said,and we shook on it.

“What’s this?”Edison asked, pointing to the tape on my wrist.

“I’m taping him upbefore I put his gloves on.”

Edison laughed.“We only feature bare knuckle boxers at my events.”

“Wait a damnedminute,” Clutch protested.

“Surely, that willnot be a problem for your fighter?”

“No,” I said ascalmly as possible, while staring at Kevin’s calloused meat hooks even as mymouth dried up like the Mojave Desert. “No problem at all.”

“Good. We’ll seeyou in the ring,” Edison said before exiting with my opponent.

“Christ, kid. Yousure you wanna do this?” Minus asked.

“What?” I asked,looking around the room. “None of you have ever squared off with a guy who wasbigger than you?”

“This isdifferent,” Minus replied.

“Damn right itis!” I shouted. “Street fights and bar brawls are pointless. This fight meanssomething. I’m fighting for a purpose tonight.”

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