Page 90 of Brandishing Balance
Nic laughed and shook his head. “Guess we’re taking Maya and Luke fishing!”
“And going to a Seratelli fucking family dinner,” I grumbled.
Marcos
The fight in the ring with Johnny and I was a fun dance of trading punches. It was never meant to be serious, though I did let Johnny get a few hits in because I had wronged him, but by the end of it we were playfully jabbing each other and he ended the fight by locking me in a headlock and giving me a noogie. “Good fight, big brother.”
My heart actually skipped a beat hearing him say that. I wrapped him in a hug and slapped him on the back. “Good fight, little brother.”
I felt like I had healed a hole in my heart. I still had a lot more healing to do, but I would get there. I had the people around me to make me into a better man. I just had to listen.
Axel
Thebasspoundedheavilythrough the speakers, thrumming through my body as I stared out the open locker room door to the crowded warehouse beyond—and by doorway, I mean the gap in the strung-up sheets that blocked the view of the fighters from the crowd. There were tables as barricades on the other side of the curtains, where the merch teams were pushing their wares.
Phoenix sat in a folding chair to my right, while Blaze was out there selling our t-shirts—shit he made in his basement screen printing and vinyl cutting. It helped raise the money we neededto pay off my medical bills. After I caught a couple slugs against a rival out of state, I was still paying on the shit. The club had helped as much as they could, but Buckley was running shit then and didn’t give a damn.
I had thought about mentioning to it Marcos now, but he had enough on his plate with cleaning up all of Buckley’s messes, let alone all the shit with his girl. Nah, my president had enough to worry about—besides, I had this handled.
The music changed and my opener rang out, causing loud cheers to go up around the warehouse. Phoenix patted my shoulder, nodding his head to the music as we both stood up. We’d been through this a hundred times and we’d go through it a hundred more. These fights were a great way for us to earn cash quickly. After the decline in club activities, because Buckley killed most of our jobs, me and my boys had to do something quick, because the thought of having to live in the clubhouse was a living nightmare and not an option at the time.
Shit had calmed down since Marcos had taken over the club, but me and boys never felt completely comfortable at the club house to get any real sleep. It was too ingrained in us to look over our shoulders constantly.
Having a president like Buckley would do it to you.
I pushed the thoughts from my mind and prowled out of the makeshift locker room. The crowd went wild as I walked out. The MC’s voice came over the speaker system, as the music dropped half a decibel. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” the MC shouted through the microphone. “Axel ‘The Mechanic’ Jones!”
The crowd went wild.
“And in the other corner, all the way from downtown Chicago, the man, the myth, the legeeeennnd! Ronan ‘The Ringer’ Tiernan!”
I climb into the ring at the same time as my opponent. He was a large wide-chested man that had a notorious reputation. Rumor had it he was linked to the Irish Mob, but who knew if that was true. He had to be about my age though, with blond hair and sky-blue eyes that looked right through you.
I didn’t give a damn about the notoriety or the rumors. Blaze had gotten me video footage of his previous fights and I had made sure to study them in the last couple of days. I knew that Tiernan dropped his left should when he swung, leaving his right side open. I knew that after a couple of hits, his anger would come out full force and he would lose all form and rhythm.
That was when I would strike.
I just had to bide my time. I could dance around him for a while. My stamina was a thing of beauty—something both Blaze and Phoenix helped me maintain, often times together. I just had to get through this fight and I could ask around for some dirt on Hillcrest.
Tiernan was an easy fight, but a steady rhythm of jabs and punches from both of us. While he kept me on my toes, he was also oddly predictable.
Blaze and Phoenix stood ringside, mostly quiet as they watched me. I kept an eye on them out of the corner of my eye as I dragged out the fight with Tiernan. Blaze would give me the signal when it would be time to escalate things. Everything was all about the show, after all. An intricate dance for the crowd, to earn us the most money.
I’d drag it out for as long as I could, unless the other fighter was overly aggressive, then I’d go for the K.O. ASAP. Tiernan seemed to be on board for dragging shit out, though.
Tiernan smirked, “You got green on this?”
“Like you don’t?” I shot back, as we circled each other.
He chuckled. “I need information.”
I almost paused, but the crowd cheered louder and I punched Tiernan in the ribs. I didn’t hit him as hard as I could have, though. “What kind of information?”
He grunted in pain and side stepped my next punch. “Who runs the coke out of here?”
I laughed. “Even if I had that info, what makes you think I’d hand it over to you?”
Tiernan landed a punch to my shoulder and I grunted in pain. “I might have information you’re looking for.”
