Page 76 of The Pact

Doesn’t take long to get to The Shed. It’s not a shed but an old warehouse. These fights are illegal, but the cops turn a blind eye with a little cash handout every night.

It’s packed as I walk in, men all sardined in and drunk on beer and the sight of blood. Taylor’s on door duty tonight.

“You fighting?” he asks, and I nod.

I need a decent fight, one that I can bring in at least six hundred. He shows me the roster.

“Fuck, Valentine’s in The Shed tonight,” a drunk guy calls out from the bar area. I’m greeted by some regulars as I look over to find the name I’m looking for.

Danny Holtz.

I beat him the last five time we fought, but the thing is, every time I fight him, I’ve taken weeks to recover. He’s a tough son of a bitch. But I can’t just do easy tonight. Rent’s due. It’s go in and go hard. Tonight.

I point to his name, and Taylor shakes his head.

“I love you, kid. You’re a tough son of a bitch. But Holtz? During football season?”

“I need the cash. Dad fucking spent the rent money,” I mutter. I don’t like talking about him, but Taylor knows about my dad. I’ve been coming here for years. I started out in the bar, helping Arthur, and when I built up enough muscle, I was allowed into the ring.

“How much you need?”

“Six hundred.”

He lets out a whistle. “Fucking prick. If I could take you in, kid, I would. No government gonna give me a kid, though.”

He lets out a sigh and looks back at the board. There are a few names on there, ready to claim a fight. Taylor looks down at his sheet of paper. Scribbled numbers and the names are almost illegible, but I see the “2k” next to Danny Holtz. I know the quickest way of fixing my money problem is by fighting Holtz. I don’t want to touch my savings.

“You can get your cash in an easier, less brutal way for your body. Don’t have to destroy yourself. You could do a few of the newer guys, make it up that way. I have two coming up in the next hour. New kids. A hundred each, if you win. That’s a good start to your rent problem.”

The thing is, after what Dad said about his dealer knowing I’m down here, I’m worried they’re gonna ask me for the cash he owes them. Drugs they loaned him. I don’t know what that shit’s about, but I also don’t wanna find out. I want to be able to cover his debt and get them far away from me.

“Holtz.”

Taylor throws his arms up. “Your funeral, kid.”

I move over to the bar. I’m gonna need a shot of whisky before this goes down. Helps numb the pain a little.

Iapproach the ring in the middle of the warehouse. Cheers go up when they see who’s up next. Money’s exchanging hands at a fast rate when they see me get into the ring. Holtz is on the other side. He has a trainer, someone to give a shit about him. I might be a prospect for The Sons of Death, but I have always worked alone.

The only times Jace or Hunter come here is when Arthur calls them, and I hope he hasn’t called them tonight. I don’t want to face them right now. One of them is gonna get Mila. One of them, meaning not me, and it’s hard to sit back and watch.

I know I can’t have her, fuck. When she said that shit last night about butterflies, I wished so hard for a different life. Any life outside of this shit so I could walk over to her and claim her. Kiss her again and tell everyone she’s mine. But I can’t do that. She deserves someone like Jace or Hunter. They will give her a good life.

I’m not even paying attention when I put my mouthguard in, and the ref is calling out if I’m ready.

Fuck, here we go.

Holtz bounces on his feet, zigzagging as he plays with me. Putting on a show is what he does best. His name might be Danny Holtz, but around here, he’s known as “the Destroyer” because that’s what he does. He doesn’t just fight. He destroys his opponents.

I just want this shit to be over with. As Holtz dances, getting the crowd riled up, I make my move. I move in with a blow to the cheek. His head whips back around; fucker didn’t see me until it’s too late. I move back, bouncing lightly on my feet, ready for his move.

He rushes me, going for the face. I block and swing at him again. I catch his chin, but I’m not quick enough, and he catches my nose. The taste of blood fills my mouth before I feel it run down my face.

The crowd screams and cheers. They’re out for blood tonight, and they’ll have it. Only I’ll be walking out of here two grand richer. And Holtz will be spread out on the mat.

I circle him, giving a good show as I throw out some feelers, see if he will bite. He does. I step to the right and let a powerful right hook send him reeling. I’m on him before he can think straight and smash his nose in. I hear the crack as it breaks under my fist. A few jabs to the ribs before he’s on me, a sweep of my legs, and he takes me down.

This isn’t your regular fighting. This shit is anything goes, as long as you only use your body. Holtz kicks my ribs, and my air whooshes out. I felt them crack. Fucker, they’d only just healed.

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