Page 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
ARI
“ H ow about it, Ari? Looking to make your fighters champions?”
Scotty sloshed the vial around in his hand. The liquid flipped as violently as my stomach.
PEDs. This had to be a joke. Or some kind of bad dream. How the fuck did we keep ending up in these situations? Troy, Lucien, Scotty—hell, that stupid fucking strap-on company who somehow found a sucker willing to join them. Smiley’s Gym was a shit magnet, and our sponsor was the biggest manure pile of them all.
“We don’t need it.” I glared. “We’re winners without it.”
“For how long? Bones might be winning, but he’s not at his best. And your third is a wild card. Who knows whether he’ll win or lose?”
“And we have River.”
Scotty shrugged. “Sure. The best fighter in all the Circuit. But that’s not even close to enough.”
“He’s a guaranteed win.”
“Which means he’s got a target on his back for a little knuckle-breaking revenge.”
“The fighters in the scene wouldn’t do that.”
“You sure about that?”
Scotty clenched the vial and took a step closer. He reminded me of a hyena: stretched smile, wild look in his eye, hunting for the easiest prey. I pressed myself against the bathroom door. I couldn’t show fear. Not to this douchebag. I’d had it up to my neck with the intimidating douchebags in the scene.
“This isn’t the underground,” I argued.
“But half of them are from the underground. Chosen specifically to bring in that cash. Some old habits die hard. Especially ones concerning the top dogs in the ring.”
Scotty kept creeping closer. My heart rate spiked with every step. I stared at the syringe in his hand to avoid his dark eyes. I needed to get out of here, fast.
“The Circuit is legit. They’ll get kicked out.”
“You’ll still be down a fighter. You can say bye to Vegas. And there’s plenty of other teams below you waiting for a chance. Someone else will take your place.” Scotty’s tone grew acidic. “Someone will always take your place.”
“Is this why you sponsored us?” I demanded. “To take your shit and make it to Vegas?”
“You’re just as valuable to me whether you make it to Vegas or not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’ve got two choices here, Ari. Either you take the PEDs yourselves and become champs, or you pass it off to a smarter team who will.”
I hated the oil-slicked smile he gave me. It squeezed my insides to a pulp and left me trembling and breathless.
“You want us to become your drug mules?”
“That’s the word the feds use. I prefer ‘shipment partner.’”
“We’re not your fucking partners.”
Scotty narrowed his eyes, and his voice shook with rage. “But you’re my fucking team. My money makes or breaks your little fake Rocky bullshit. You already lost one sponsor. Can you really afford to lose another?”
I swallowed. And swallowed and swallowed. But no matter how many times I tried, my throat was dry, and I couldn’t find the words to refute him or tell him to fuck off.
He took a step back and slicked back his oily hair. “I bet you want to talk about it with your teammates. Since it’s your gym and all.” He flipped the vial over in his fingers a few times. “Though, when you talk to Bones, would you tell him something for me?”
“What?”
“That La Suprema is a pretty nice boxing gym. His dad seems pretty well liked down there.”
Shock froze my entire body. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. I stared at Scotty with wide eyes. How the hell did he know that?
“How— What? What the fuck?”
Scotty shrugged and pocketed the vial and syringe into the jacket of his sweatsuit. “You meet a lot of interesting people in prison. Some who have better connections than others. Some just happen to have dealings in Mexico City.”
“And what does that have to do with Bones?”
“I had to look into my fighters, didn’t I?” Scotty barked a laugh. “And all of their familial hangups.”
“Mr. Vega is not a hangup.”
“Maybe not to you. But to me? I don’t know the guy. And Mexico City is a pretty dangerous place. Wouldn’t want something to happen to him or the kids. Lots of gang violence.”
“Are you blackmailing us?”
“Giving you a choice, Ari. And your choice will give me a choice, so I hope you make a good one.”
Silence weighed heavier than lead. Scotty’s proposition was probably the worst we’d had yet. But now, it wasn’t just us on the chopping block. It was Bones’ dad. The kids at La Suprema. The collateral in the way if Scotty’s contact really knew where they were.
What the fuck was I supposed to do?
“Go ahead and talk with the others.” Scotty gestured outside. “After you win this match, of course. Need to climb the leaderboard. But before you go—” He grabbed his bag, put the vial back inside, and handed it to me. “Here is a little taste to tide you over.”
I snatched the bag and left the bathroom without saying goodbye. But Scotty Green loomed behind me like a death wish. Each step back toward the gym sank my stomach even lower. Today’s matches were already in session. Vinny took shot after shot at his opponent. The crowd roared; the bell sounded; the others from St. Luka’s cheered for their teammate.
In the middle of the chaos were my guys. Bones, Lotto, Frankie, and River huddled together near the front of the crowd, shaking out and warming up. I could feel their confidence from here. They were going to win this match. And the next and the next if they could. Anything to bring Smiley’s to glory.
But that “anything” had to include PEDs, or Bones’ dad was going to pay the price.
Frankie saw me and lifted a hand, gesturing me to come closer.
But I couldn’t move.
After all the shit we’d been through to get here, how was I supposed to tell them we had an even bigger problem on our hands?