Dylan claps me on the back. “We’ve got this, my brother.”
I nod grimly.
“I have no doubt, but I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
“I know. It’ll be over soon.”
Meanwhile, April stares at us from the back of the room, her eyes wide. The sweet girl is biting her lip and she crosses her arms over her tummy almost protectively. I wonder if she has an upset stomach from the match tonight. Our girl has a tender heart, after all, and I know she’s concerned about the physicality of what will undoubtedly be a brutal fight.
A small, scraggly man steps into the ring and holds his arms up. He’s not dressed in anything special, but guessing from the bullhorn in his hand, he’s the MC and referee.
“Welcome!” he bawls into the megaphone. “Tonight is going to be a night of nights! Can I get a high five folks? Come on, show your enthusiasm!”
Everyone stares in confusion because the high five seems out of place. But the man continues, unperturbed.
“Tonight we’ll be watching something scary! Something insane! Something astonishingly incredible! Gentlemen, please welcome Tyler Creighton into the ring!”
At that, April’s ex enters the room, and to be honest, he looks worse for the wear. The boy is puffy, sweaty, and already trembling. He wipes a hand over his brow, looking incredibly nervous yet out of it too.
“Is he high?” my buddy mutters under his breath.
I shrug.
“I have no idea, but clearly, he’s in no shape to take on anyone.”
Meanwhile, the announcer continues.
“And now, please welcome Tyler’s partner in crime, Talon Creighton! Oooh-whee! Talon’s a champion MMA fighter who’s competed in fifteen bouts over the course of his career. Talon, my man, make yourself known!”
A trumpet blares from the sound system, and then the curtains in the back literally swish open to reveal a tanned, muscular man with an imposing physique. He’s probably about six four, and shit, but this guy’s built like a tank seeing that he’s tall and broad, with the guns to match. Not only that, but he has a murderous expression in his blue eyes.
Fuck. How can this guy be related to Tyler? The bruiser is clearly double his younger brother’s weight, and powerful to boot with a solid core and bulging biceps. Meanwhile, Tyler’s arms are thin and pale and his legs resemble toothpicks.
“So, how are we playing this?” I mutter to Dylan, ignoring the circus going on in front of us. He shoots me a sideways glance.
“We get Tyler out of the way quickly and then focus our attentions on Talon. You know how these match-ups are. There are no rules, so we’ve just got to beat the shit out of Tyler and then double-team Talon. It’s our only hope.”
I nod grimly.
“I’ll take Talon. Do your business with Tyler and then we’ll reassess.”
At that, the announcer calls our names, and my friend and I step into the ring grimly. It’s a regular boxing ring for the most part, except there are wire fences going up about fifteen feet on all four sides. As a result, the fighters can’t escape one another. Not only that, but combatants sometimes climb the walls and then land on their competitors after doing a flying leap. It’s a harsh move, but consistent with cage fighting techniques.
The small, spindly announcer looks at us, his eyes glistening brightly.
“Now gentlemen, you know how this works. No one leaves. No mercy. No submission. Give the crowd something good. Got it?”
We all nod. Obviously, this is a no-holds-barred match and even kicking your opponent in the nuts is probably okay. Talon looks almost sleepy, his expression giving nothing away, while Tyler hops from foot to foot like a skinny rabbit. It’s ridiculous, but with that, the bell rings and the fight begins.
I immediately engage Talon while Dylan takes on Tyler. I duck as Talon takes his first jab. The rage on his face is incomprehensible. This man is clearly an animal, and I use it to my advantage. Dancing out of the way for a moment, I then swing in quickly and smash him with an uppercut. His head snaps back as I dance out of range once more.
Meanwhile, Dylan makes quick work of Tyler, and I don’t need to turn to know what’s happening. Within minutes, Tyler’s curled up in a ball in the corner, his arms cradling his head.
“Stop, stop!” he screams. “I want out!”
Dylan moves off with disgust, instead joining me in our assault on Talon Creighton. It’s weird. The burly man is almost like a robot because he’s able to absorb a barrage of blows with seemingly little impact. Sure, I can see my fists landing and I even deliver a few kicks to the huge man’s midsection, but he’s unstoppable. He keeps coming forward, landing a few blows against my sides that hurt like hell.