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CARTER
FIVE DAYS LATER
The last five days felt like an eternity of hell. If I had known that my Sunday with Emma was the last day of my true freedom, I would’ve found a way to stop time. But instead, the world I’d been thrust into was foreign to me; it was almost like I was in a different realm.
Grabbing my hand wraps, I started wrapping my wrists and hands. I had fought every day this week. My body was sore, and I was almost sure I had a broken rib. What surprised me more than anything was the venue. I thought I’d be fighting in a dilapidated crack house or something similar, but it was the complete opposite. Instead, I was fighting in the hidden basement of a fancy downtown L.A. hotel. There was a secret way in and out. I was told the Corsino family in New York made a fortune with underground fighting, so the Michelsons wanted to do the same in California, to make it their territory.
I’d learned a lot the past few days, things I didn’t want to know. Scar was so far up the different mafia families’ asses there was no way he’d ever free himself. The longer I fought for them, the deeper I got as well.
My phone dinged with another incoming text, and it was from Braden. I’d ignored the guys all week because I knew they’d try to get involved if they saw me. What I hated more than anything was seeing the expressions on Emma’s face every time I got home at night. It wasn’t the way I wanted things to be. I’d just gotten her back, and now, all this shit would undoubtedly tear us apart.
Gritting my teeth, I tightened my hand wraps and cracked my neck from side to side. Anger ignited in my gut, especially when my eyes landed on the stacks of money in my duffle bag. I hated Scar and everyone he was involved with. It’d taken all the restraint inside me not to go on a rampage and fight my way free. Now, I was a fucking show pony, fighting every night because some asshats thought they could beat me.
Scar told me it was the same kind of fighting as Kase's organized fights at his club in Vegas. That couldn’t have been further from the truth. Kase’s fights were mainly with newbie fighters who wanted to make a name for themselves. Clean fighting with rules … legal. Here it was a different crowd altogether, the fights being the complete opposite of legal. The men I was fighting were doing it to work their way up into the other mafia families to prove they were strong enough. So far, none of them had beat me, which had given me more enemies than I could count.
Tonight, I was fighting the same man who broke my rib when I battled it out with on Monday night. He wanted another shot. There were no rules or weapons allowed; the only way to win was by knockout. You could fight as dirty as you wanted.
The door to my room opened, and I didn’t even turn around. “What the fuck you want?”
Nikolai chuckled. “Oh, just to watch you move around like an old, decrepit man. You’ve really gotten the hell beat out of you this week.”
“I could still beat your ass,” I seethed.
“Nah, I don’t want to fight you right now,” Nikolai goaded. “I like my opponents to be in the best shape possible. That’s surely not you at this moment. I’m starting to wonder if you’ll even win tonight.”
Ignoring the pain spiking through every nerve ending in my body, I faced him. He looked just like all the other tools in his pricey suit and well-kempt hair, but he was dirtier than all of them put together.
“I don’t lose, Michelson. Tonight, you’ll see exactly what I’m capable of.” I stormed past him out the door, bumping him hard with my shoulder. The long hallway seemed to stretch farther and farther as I made my way down to the red door, guarded by a six-foot-five, three-hundred-pound man with a gun in his holster. Every night there was someone different at the door. It made me wonder how many thugs Nikolai and his family had working for them.
When I got closer, the man opened the door, and a whole other world greeted me. The spectators were all wealthy men and women, dressed in expensive suits and gowns. They threw around thousands of dollars as if it was pocket change. It was a world I never thought I’d be a part of, and I was afraid I’d never be able to get out.
The fighting ring was straight ahead, and I fixated on it. People murmured my name as I stormed past them. When I competed, there was always a fight song to get me amped up for the battle to come but I didn’t need that tonight.
I was ready for the fight.
I craved it.