Page 20

Chapter

Twenty

FRANKIE

I threw my duffel bag next to my back tire and punched my rear window, pretending it was the head of the Circuit.

That fucker. I had a bone to pick with his bald ass and curly mustache.

We’d driven all the way to fucking Spokane for our next match, only to get a call five minutes before the fight was about to start.

Suspended pending decision . While the suits in charge of this farce discussed our future with the Circuit, we couldn’t step in the ring and had to forfeit our match. They had to make sure “Lucien’s funds weren’t tainted” and that we were clear for a new sponsor.

What a crock of bullshit.

How long did it take to make a damn decision? It had been about a week since Lucien dropped out and Troy refused to sponsor us. A week of waffling on self-sponsorship. Of not knowing if we’d be waving dildos on live streams or working for another criminal. Mustache man Mustgrave Billows at the Circuit hadn’t taken my advice too kindly. Then again, I probably shouldn’t have told the organizer to “shove your money-laundering scheme and felon sponsors up your fat ass and make a decision already.”

Ari said we’d be lucky to be in the Circuit anymore after that.

But did it really take that long to make a fucking decision?

I tapped my first on my window a few times. Was anything ever going to go our way?

“Hey now, what did that glass ever do to you?”

I bristled. I knew that voice—not personally, but from annoying radio ads and local commercials. Just my luck.

I turned to the man of the hour. Scotty Green, our last hope for sponsorship, lifted a hand and waved it at me as he approached. He looked the part of a mechanic. Long, greasy hair in a ponytail, country-boy overalls with grease stains, a towel with his shop’s logo dangling from his waving hand. Tattoos covered every inch of his skin, from his knuckles to his neck.

The fuck was he doing here?

“Long way from Seattle,” I croaked and turned back to my car. I already had a headache. I didn’t need to deal with another.

“Came to see my possible sponsor fight.” Scotty leaned an elbow against my trunk. “Too bad it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, too fucking bad.”

“Heard you been callin’ around, asking the other two about workin’ together.”

I set my arm on the hood of my car. “Word travels fast.”

“Especially when money’s involved. Looks like I’m your last resort.”

His sharp smile made me want to vomit. So did the truth in his words. Since the Circuit heads were taking their sweet-ass time deciding what to do with us, Scotty was likely the only way we could keep going. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. His head was already big enough, that bobble head bitch.

“Could always drop out. Try again next year.”

“You really think the Circuit will let your gym back?” He played with the towel, making sure to flash his logo my way. “Without a sponsor, you can kiss your remaining chances goodbye. That’s where I come in.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Us local shops should stick together. Band together to stick it to the man.”

“Right.”

“All you gotta do is rep my brand.”

“Sure.”

Scotty sneered. “You gonna keep being a little bitch or hear me out?”

“What’s there to hear out?” I clenched my teeth to keep from lashing out further. I’d already fucked up when speaking with the Circuit earlier, but I couldn’t help but ask, “How about you talk about your rap sheet first? Get your funds by selling stolen car parts?”

“Water under the bridge. I’m a changed man. On a different path.” His grin widened. “Looking to help the lessers.”

“Fuck you,” I said.

“I call it like I see it.” Scotty pushed up and handed out the towel. “Sign with me, and you’ll be back atop the leaderboard in no time.” He shrugged. “Or don’t and see where your ass lands. Up to you.”

I stared at the towel with a frown. “Why are you coming to me?” Everyone else was still inside, around here somewhere. Lotto was the one who dealt with shit like this, not me.

“You’re the smartest man out of your little group.”

“So, the others turned your ass down?” His lips puckered and told me everything. I snorted, “So I’m your last resort, huh?”

“You help me, I’ll help you.”

I didn’t want to agree, but what other choice did we have? This was the easiest road back into the ring, and only a month remained. We needed every fight left to claw our way up to the top. The odds were stacked against us and getting worse with every missed fight.

But we’d hopped into the Circuit too fast in the first place. We couldn’t do the same with this offer.

“I’ll talk to the guys and call you before the next fight,” I answered.

“I’ll get the shirts ready.” He smiled like it was already a done deal and held out his hand. “Nice doing business.”

“You can keep your fucking business,” I spat and turned away from him. If I stared at his shark-like grin any longer, I was going to be arrested for battery.

His footsteps echoed and disappeared a few moments later. I ran a hand through my hair and scratched at my scalp. The pain was nothing compared to the dull ache in my temples. At this point, it might have been better to start my own damn Circuit, fit with blackjack and hookers.

The parking lot grew busy with activity not long after Scotty left. The other fights were over. Excited spectators gushed about the rest of the fights on the docket. Some kids screamed as their siblings fake-punched them like the boxers in the ring. And not one of them said our name as they climbed into their cars and left me in silence.

Smiley’s was on the fast track to being forgotten.

“Frankie, there you are.” A soft hand slipped along my shoulders. Ari peeked around, her expression worried. “Have you been out here the whole time?”

“What else was there to do?” I asked

“Watch the other two matches. Lud’s lost. We’re in eighth now.” She snorted and leaned her back against the car. “What are the odds we can get into the finals without even throwing another punch? One in a million?”

“Not a bet I’d take.”

“It could make us millionaires,” she teased.

“Then we could sponsor ourselves.” I turned to her and shook my head. “Did Scotty Green approach you?”

Her grin soured. “Ugh. Unfortunately. I said I’d talk to you before making any decisions.”

“Don’t worry, he beat you to it.”

“Really?” Ari sighed. “What do you think? Other than ‘I want to bash his face in’ or ‘He can shove that towel up his ass.’”

“Am I really that obvious, Ari?”

“To me, you are. I can read you like the back of my hand. Comes with the territory.” She set a hand on my forearm and laughed. “Bones said he’s ready for the next match. He wants to win. So do the rest of the guys.”

“And we can’t do that without a sponsor.”

“I don’t want to rush into a decision, but we have three days until the next matches in San Francisco.”

“And that’s a long-ass drive.”

“Well, think of all the extra spare parts we’d get for free if our car broke down.”

I snorted and shook my head, tucking a loose piece of hair behind Ari’s ear. She was dynamic. Smoking hot, always willing to try new things, never giving up, even on a piece of shit like me. But the thing I loved most about her was her tenacity. Her ability to laugh in the face of bullshit and find a new solution. And her knack for pulling me into her orbit and shining a little light over my darkest thoughts.

“Then we’re going with the felon?”

Ari hesitated before she nodded. “One month. That’s it. Then we can kick all of these assholes to the curb.”

“Make that a clause in our contract and I’m in.”

“Deal.” Ari smiled at me and lit up my world. “Come on, Coach, let’s make Smiley’s a winner.”