“Let’s bring out the best fighter I’ve ever seen. His heart is as black as his soul. He has no remorse for every punch he’s ever thrown. I’d call his fists concealed weapons, but he doesn’t conceal them. Get in his way and you’re on the ground. This motherfucker is dangerous. This motherfucker is scary. I’m backing up as he comes out… give it up… for… Wes.”
I stepped into the circle as the people cheered. They were drinking. They had money in their hands. Probably made side, private bets on punches, blood, that kind of thing. Christ, I couldn’t live the lives these men did.
“Now… for his opponent. A man with the same hardened soul. A man who doesn’t speak. He’s never spoken a word in his life. He knows one thing. He knows to fight. He knows to hurt. He. Knows. To. Kill. Residing from a place so dark even the devil himself wouldn’t go near… here comes… Phantom.”
Through the crowd pushed a thick man. A few inches shorter than me but heavy with muscle. He was clean cut and good looking. Like a damn underwear model or something. I had heard the name before. All names filter through mouths, ears, underground fights. You only really remember a name when you fight the person.
Phantom stared at me.
I stared back.
The crowd was chanting “Fight! Fight! Fight!” like we were two high school kids ready to fight over some fucking cheerleader or something.
We went chest to chest, both nodding.
I had thought it was all some kind of set up, but this was a real fight.
Danny gave the word and pushed away from Phantom. I then threw the first punch and took control of the fight.
25.
(Rose)
I had seen enough fights to know all the sounds and the smells. The old buildings with their dust and rust smells. Like old, mildewy water. The smell of the rich men’s cologne and whatever booze they were drinking. Then the smell of the fights themselves. The sweat. The blood. And, yeah, guys who couldn’t handle their personal situations. They’d mess themselves more than you’d think.
The sounds were cheering and the hard hits of punches to bodies.
Watching Wes put it into a whole new perspective. I never cheered for Luke to win a fight because I always knew how dangerous he was. I always feared for his opponent. They never knew what they were up against or how close they came to being killed. Well, everyone except Wes’s brother because he was killed by Luke.
I stood there and played with the bottom of my shirt.
Wes landed the first punch. Then the second, third, and fourth. I thought for a second this was going to be a five second fight. But then Phantom slipped to the side and landed a hard right to Wes’s gut. The smack made my stomach flip, but Wes absorbed it. Phantom threw a left to the side of Wes’s face and took him down to one knee.
“No,” I whispered.
Phantom wound up again and Wes slammed an elbow to Phantom’s stomach, sending him stumbling back. Wes then jumped up and spun, throwing a wild left punch. It hit Phantom and sent him back again. Wes then pounced, getting right up on Phantom, and the real fight started.
They exchanged punches to the enjoyment of the crowd. Each time Wes swung at Phantom, half the crowd cheered. Then when Phantom threw a punch back, the other half of the crowd cheered. It was insane to watch and hear. It was like these people thought this was something scripted and that these two men - these two fighters - were just messing around. This was life or death. Whoever lost the fight would get in trouble. A lot of guys would end up left for dead or killed. There were no trainers, no medical staff, nothing waiting in case there was an injury.
The punches went back and forth until Wes threw two punches really quick. Eye, stomach. Phantom hunched over a little. Wes punched again. Phantom grabbed Wes’s shoulder and pulled at him. I wasn’t sure if he was looking for balance or a cheap shot. Turned out to be a little of both. Phantom pulled at Wes and tried to lift his knee. Wes blocked the knee and he swung his foot, taking Phantom down to the ground.
As Wes moved over Phantom, the smart fighter lifted his feet and started to kick at Wes. Wes started to punch at Phantom’s ankles and legs.
The crowd quickly started to boo, not wanting to see this kind of stuff. They wanted to see a fight. Knuckles to face. Blood. Teeth shattering. That’s what they put their money on.
Wes backed up and waved to Phantom to get up.
“Come on!” Wes growled. “Get on your fucking feet!”
The crowd cheered. They were now all on Wes’s side.
Phantom kicked back and sat there for a few seconds. Those seconds were like hours to the men drinking and betting and waiting for a clean knockout punch.
“Get him Wes!” someone screamed from the crowd.
“Kick his fucking head off!”
Wes just stood there.
Time kept ticking by. My hands became jittery. I wanted Wes to end this fight and help me get the hell out of here.
Phantom rose to his feet and wiped blood off his face. He then cracked his knuckles and spit at the ground. It was a glob of dark red blood.
Phantom then let out a scream and ran at Wes.