Page 26 of The Wild Moon
The crowd went insane.
There you go, Carl. Be happy with that,I thought, not getting back up, acting the shit out of the fall as if I was knocked silly. I put my hands on the ground and tried to push up, but let them go limp and flopped back down, feeling nothing more than a fish out of water. It was ridiculous.
And I was going to get paid for it.
Eventually, I heard the ref call the fight with my opponent, Dino “The Monster” Mulvalia, as the winner. So, that was his name. I shrugged mentally. It wasn’t like it mattered. He was nothing to me. Just a payday.
Around the makeshift cage, the crowd was beginning to subside, the excitement fading. Some were happy with the outcome, others not. It was like that every night. Footsteps approached.
“Okay, come on,” Carl said, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me to my feet. “Let’s go.”
I got to my feet, still acting unsteady. I leaned on Carl. Sweat got all over his suit. Oops.
He grunted, and we made our way out of the ring, me moving unsteadily until we went through a set of doors that led to the changerooms. If a janitor’s closet could be called such.
As soon as the doors closed behind us, he shoved me off him and started fussing over his suit. I didn’t care. The man was a scumbag.
“Good job out there,” Carl said, his voice watery, weak. “You really got the crowd going. Tonight is gonna be a fat take.”
I shrugged. “Just make sure I get my cut, Carl,” I said in a hard tone.
“Yeah, yeah. You know I’m good for it,” he said, brushing me aside. “Probably five hundred for you tonight. That’s a good one.”
“Not enough,” I growled, standing up. “I need more, Carl.”
“Hey, we had a deal,” the fat greasebag said, licking his lips.
Due to my height and his average stature, I could look him in the eyes when standing, and I knew he hated that. Carl liked to look down at the world. He was a greedy, arrogant type.
“Seven-fifty,” I said, knowing not to push too hard.
Not because I was afraid of violence, but I knew if I tried to do more, Carl would drop me. He didn’t want confrontation. In fact, he ran from it. That’s why I was the fighter.
“Fine, fine,” he said unhappily. “If it’s there, then it’s yours.”
I knew it would be.
“Good. When’s the next fight?” I asked.
Carl frowned at me. “You got a death wish, kid? You’re already in the ring twice a week.”
“Make it three times, then,” I told him, lifting a wrist to my mouth and undoing the strap with my teeth so that I could pull it free.
“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Carl protested.
I didn’t kid myself. Carl didn’t give a shit about my well-being. In this place, nobody cared about the fighters. They only cared about one thing. The money. Carl didn’t want to lose his prized cash cow, that was all.
“I need another fight, Carl,” I said. “Either that or pay me more.”
He licked his lips nervously, looking around, but there was still nobody in the hallway. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll get you another fight. But it won’t be as big a take.”
“Time for an upset then,” I suggested. “Get me in with a bigger name. I’ll beat them.”
Carl’s beady eyes went wide. He didn’t know my secret, didn’t know what I was, so of course, to him, it sounded insane.
“They’ll never take it,” he said.
“Make them. I need the fight.”
