Tracey Ward - Backs Against the Wall

Elise smiles happily. “Ryan, finally taking a taste! It’s about time.” She glances over at me, frowning. “She’s scrawny, though. Where’d she come from?”

“I don’t know. She’s on loan from the Pikes.”

The girl scrunches her nose in disgust at me. “Geez, Ryan, are you that hard up? There are girls here that would give it up to you for free and you wouldn’t have to check them for fleas.”

“Just crabs,” I say sharply.

“What did you say?” she shrieks.

“I said you’re a dock walker,” I enunciate slowly. Loudly. “No doubt you’re crawling with crabs.”

“You’re dead,” she breathes, taking several steps toward me.

I’m itching for her to come closer. Just a little bit closer. Even with Trent destroying my good hand and my other arm on the mend, I could beat this chick into the ground. She won’t remember her own name when I’m done with her.

“You’re just mad because she’s right, Elise,” a voice flows down from the rafters, a soft southern drawl making her bitter words sound sweet.

We all look up to see a woman with long dark hair making her way toward the stairs. She’s beautifully pale and dressed almost the same way I am, only her bra, if she had one on, would be working a lot harder than mine.

“Now get away from Ry before I remove you myself.”

Elise backs away, glaring.

The dark haired woman stops at the bottom of the stairs, staring expectantly at Elise.

“Disappear.”

I’m disappointed when she does.

“Thanks, Freedom,” Ryan says, walking up to the woman to give her a hug.

It doesn’t bother me the way Elise’s hands on him did. My veins don’t run hot, my hands itching for a fight. For a knife.

“No problem,” Freedom tells him warmly. “Your brother would never want to see you around a girl like Elise and neither do I. But what are you doing here? You’re not fighting tonight are you?”

“No, I got called in to see the Boss.”

Freedom looks at him long and hard. “That’s never good.”

Ryan shrugs. It looks stiff. “I think he just wants to talk about the fights I was in recently. I’m not signing on with him. Don’t worry.”

“Anytime anyone goes in to see the Boss, I always worry. Be careful, alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Freedom!”

She closes her eyes briefly. I imagine her counting to ten in her head. When she opens them, she turns to face a tall, shirtless bald guy stalking toward her.

“What do you want, Dante?”

“Are you seriously giving me attitude right now? You’re supposed to be in the Arena at the table full of Westies. The other girls are already there but they’re asking for you .”

Freedom rolls her eyes at this hulking man covered in tats, towering at least six inches over her. “Why are you even doing business with them? I told you, they’re idiots.”

“Idiots with deep pockets. Get in there.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Freedom, I’m not dealing with you tonight. Get in there now.”

I hold my breath as I watch his hands, worried he’ll hit her soon. I’ve seen women treated worse than that and this one is pushing the limits. Inside, I’m begging her to just go.

“Dante,” she says quietly, her accent becoming more pronounced. Less sweet. “If you tell me to get in there one more time, I will cut you. Do you understand me? I will cut you so deep your grandma in the grave will feel it. Now, I said I’ll be there in a minute and I meant it.”

Dante shakes his head, a harsh breath coming out his nose, but I see his mouth twitch at the corners. “One minute.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

“You’re insane.”

“Get out of here.”

He turns to leave, shouting over his shoulder, “Fifty seconds!”

“Unbelievable,” Freedom mutters. She turns to Ryan. “You better get to that meeting. You know where to go?”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

She pats him affectionately on the shoulder as she steps past him. “You need anything, you come find me, alright?”

“Thanks, Freedom.”

“Thirty seconds!”

“Oh, Grandma Jean is gonna be in a world of hurt, I swear to you!” Freedom shouts as she saunters off in the direction Dante is disappearing.

Ryan looks at me, his face tense. “You could wait out here. Trent could stay with you.”

“You shouldn’t go in there alone,” Trent tells him.

“She can’t stay out here alone.”

“So she won’t stay out here at all,” I snap.

I’m grateful for the rage I felt toward Elise. The excitement at the idea of dismantling her has chased the shakes away. I don’t feel any braver, but I’m not outwardly pissing myself in fear either. Progress.

“We do this together or we don’t do it at all,” I say, my voice a little softer.

Ryan sighs, but he nods reluctantly. Trent and I follow him toward the reception desk where we cut right down a dark hallway. Another bouncer with dark almond eyes and perfect mocha skin stops us, gives Ryan the runaround about fighting just like everyone else, then finally leads us to a closed white door. I’m surprised that he doesn’t knock. Just opens it up and sends us right in.

The office isn’t much, but it is large. There are small square tables arranged in every corner, all of them occupied by a few people speaking in hushed voices, but at the far end of the room there’s a large half circle of couches arranged on a platform. There are several men of all ages seated on the couches, all of them talking loudly and laughing. Not too loudly to miss our entrance, though.

“Ryan!” a tall man with long, shaggy hair graying around the temples exclaims. He sits forward in his seat, his eyes landing on Ryan and looking excited. I don’t like that look.

Ryan nods slightly. “Marlow.”

So this is Captain Hook in the flesh.

“Good of you to join us. I sent for you hours ago.”

“I came when I got the message.”

Marlow leans to the side dramatically, eyeing Trent with mock suspicion. “Maybe I sent the wrong messenger.”

“No, I was… unreachable for a while.” Ryan gestures over his shoulder to me.

I can feel every eye at the circle of couches fall on me. I’m acutely aware of the clothes I’m wearing but I’m more aware of what I’m not wearing. I long for the jacket draped over my arm but to put it on now would be to hide. To show weakness. So I square my shoulders, raise my chin, and even though the shakes are coming back, I keep my eyes locked on Marlow’s.

“Now that,” he says softly, eyeing me, “I can most certainly forgive. Where did she come from?”

Ryan shrugs, casually scanning the room. “I don’t know. She’s a loaner from the Elevens.”

I thought I was from the Pikes, I think.

I nearly scowl, nearly pinch my brow in confusion, but I lock it down. Marlow is still watching me closely.

He grins, sitting back in his seat. Finally his eyes fall to Ryan again and I can breathe.

“I’ll have to get in touch with them. They have better inventory than I thought. But I’m glad you’re finally here. You and I need to talk. It’s come to my attention that you’ve come out of retirement.”

“You’ve been lied to. I’m not fighting for anyone.”

Marlow’s eyes go round in surprise. “Really? I saw you fight with my own eyes.”

Ryan shakes his head. “I was dealing with Kevin’s death. I needed an outlet. I worked it out in the ring. I’m over it now.”

“Just like that, eh?”

“It wasn’t so easy.”

“No, I doubt it was. So you’re not fighting under the Hyperions?”

“No. I’m not fighting for anyone.”

“Not even for the right price?”