Page 48 of Bad for You

The crowd is wild as the men fight, and when Blue shoves Pink, he stumbles backward, straight into me. Blue comes charging toward him, but Pink sidesteps, and when Blue swings, he connects with my jaw.

The frenzied screams of the men suddenly cease, the echo of their ecstasy the only thing that pulsates in the air. I grin, wiping the trickle of blood from my mouth with my thumb. Before Blue can get out a word, I punch him square in the face.

The heightened energy of the rabid men is almost suffocating because they know what’s about to happen. So does Pink as he disappears into the throngs of people since this isn’t his fight any longer.

Blue shakes his head, stunned, but soon recovers.

It’s on.

We charge for one another, but he doesn’t stand a chance because he’s my way in. I know Aldo’s men are watching, and I plan on making an example out of Blue.

I punch him again, catching him unawares. He staggers back, and I then deliver an uppercut. I hear his teeth crunch, and when he spits one out, it bounces on the ground, and he knows his luck is over.

He looks in the direction of the three men, confirming my suspicions—this fight is rigged.

I hate cheaters.

But to be fair, I do hate most people, and Blue is the person I plan on taking my anger out on.

I punch him in the ribs, the stomach, and then deliver a combo of punches to his face. I was trained to fight and fight properly, so this dirty rat doesn’t stand a chance.

He is heavy on his feet, his meaty fists attempting to connect with me, but I duck to the left, then the right as he swings, and the moment he’s open, I king-hit him in the face.

He wavers on his feet, attempting to focus, but I wave him good night as he collapses onto his front, out cold.

The bloodlust rouses my demons, but I keep them at bay. I need Aldo’s men to see control and discipline. I need them to see my value so they invite me in.

The silence is soon filled with raucous roars as men slap me on the back. I’m their new victor, but I shrug them off because I didn’t do this to make new friends. Slipping my hoodie back on, I make a beeline for the exit, but one of the twins steps forward, blocking my path.

He sizes me up.

I stand unwavering, and when he doesn’t move, I chuckle. “Unless you’re about to buy me dinner and show me a good time, I suggest you move.”

I attempt to push past Tweedledee, but his brother, Tweedledum, steps in.

“Oh, look,” I quip, folding my arms across my chest. “There are two of you…your poor mother.”

Tweedledum snarls, but the younger-looking dude appears, calming these jacked-up fucks down. He’s clearly in charge. The two bigger guys are the beef. And this dude is the brains.

Again, looks can be deceiving because this dude may seem harmless, weak even, but that works in his favor, tricking presumptuous fucks who’ll regret underestimating his size.

“What’s your name?”

I simply laugh in response.

His poker face doesn’t slip, and I know he plays hardball. “You’re here for a reason. Follow me, pretty boy.”

When I don’t move, I feel the unmistakable poke of a gun barrel being pressed into the small of my back.

“Since you asked so nicely,” I taunt, following him.

The rowdy crowd looks at one another, confused as they don’t know who the winner is. I leave behind a storm of chaos—just the way I like it.

A large black SUV is parked ahead.

The door opens as we walk toward it. But no one gets out. Tweedledum nudges me forward with the gun, and I do something really fucking stupid, which is why it’s a great idea—I spin around and punch him in the mouth.

He stumbles on his feet and almost trips, which infuriates him. Just as he is about to pistol-whip me, a man’s face appears from the back seat of the SUV.

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