A Fighting Chance (4 page)

So
, I didn’t stop.

“Jesse! Jesse! He’s down! Jess! He’s down!” My gaze swiveled to Drew—somehow
hers was the single voice that pierced the overbearing noise. She was screaming, fists clenched, chest heaving. “Jesus! What the hell is wrong with you?”

Guilt ballooned in my gut
as her disgusted look sawed through me, and I turned away from her. My heart was pounding at a bullet train’s pace, but I lowered my bloody glove instead of hitting Kerr again. I stood by Bucky’s side and raised my own arm before he got a chance to.

“Winner! Jesse Chance is your winner!”
he shouted into the bullhorn. The victory itself was never enough for me, though. I wanted
my
moment.
My
Glory. And the attention was addictive. I stomped around the ring, desperate to take the whole scene in. This was the best part. This was the worst part. Soon the applause would end, and the admiration would fade. By Friday it will be like it never happened. Drew didn’t get it. She didn’t get how much I needed this. She didn’t get that they always snatched away everything they gave, so I had to hold on to it for as long as I could, for as long as they allowed me to.

I took another stroll and locked eyes with Henry, who was clapping
for me. I smiled and told myself that he was proud, but a nagging internal voice reminded me that he was just happy he hadn’t bet his beer money for nothing. As he pointed to me, he whispered to two men I had never seen before and whom I was quite certain were not from Glory. They were both Hispanic and wearing suits, too, but theirs were of far better quality and fit than Henry’s cheap three-piece.

Bucky
slung his arm around my neck and put the bullhorn to his mouth. “There you have it, folks. We’ll see you next week! Please exit our fine facility in an orderly fashion,” he said with amusement as the audience stampeded for the doors. “That’s
orderly
, Jim Bellum…as in…oh, fuck it.”

“What’s my take tonight, you think?” I asked him.

“Your win plus the door…low-end…close to two grand, at least. It’ll be more, though, ‘cause I got Dad to do a pay-per-view stream on the Internet the past few fights.” 

“
More than two grand. That’s awesome.” I shook his hand. “Uh, but is that live-streaming thing smart? This isn’t exactly legal…and doesn’t that defeat the purpose of the whole underground thing?”

“Yeah, but it’s not defeating my desire to not be broke, so it’s worth the risk. After this fight, I bet more people will sign up
to watch. I’ll drop that money off to you sometime this week, okay? Fifteen percent of the Internet ticket sales for this one and the others. Hey, if you’re free tonight, me and the other Webber boys are gonna race the back roads.”

“I thought y’all quit doing that after the crash?”

He shrugged. “Live hard and die young, brother.”

“Damn straight. See ya, dude.”
People were congratulating me from all sides when I ducked out of the ring to greet waiting female fans. They were out-of-towners, but they attended all the matches and usually ended up in the beds of winners. I hadn’t slept with one since before Drew, but they were still anxious…and grabby.

“Drew
!” I pushed through them when I saw her in the long line of impatient people bottlenecked near the doorway. “Drew! Are you—”

“Don’t say a goddamn thing to me,” she said, cutting me off. Her gaze fell to my bare chest for a moment
, and anger blazed into her stare when her eyes returned to mine. I looked down and saw the specks of dried blood on my skin.

Shit.
I cringed inside but kept my expression neutral. “C’mon, you know they like it when I put on a good show.”

“No, Jess,
you
like it.
You
.” Drew jabbed my collarbone with her finger. “You want attention from people who just
tolerate
you most of the time, and look at what they make you do for it. You’ve let them turn you into someone I can’t stand almost
any
of the time. I’m tired of it. I’m getting out of here, and I will
never
come back to this place.” Drew spun away from me and started clicking away on her cell phone like I wasn’t still standing there.

“Wait,” I said, grabbing her arm, “are you breaking up with me?”

She turned back to me and her face was stoic. “I’m going to see your mom. I will sit in my car for exactly ten minutes before I go.
Then,
I’m leaving.” She pushed past several people and I lost sight of her. We always argued after my fights but tonight seemed different. I hoped she wasn’t at that breaking point she had been threatening me with for as long as I could remember.

I decided not to go after her
and walked toward Perry’s small office at the far end of the barn to collect my winnings. A jealous Drew was hot but a pissed-off Drew was dangerous to my well-being.
I went a little overboard in the ring. That was stupid, but she’ll get over it. Right?
Fear crashed down on me when I reflected on how she’d looked at me minutes ago, as if I were someone she was giving up on. The thought of Drew hating me was frightening because she was all I had in this place…other than mom.
Mom.
My heart sank into my stomach, weighed down by guilt.

Henry
stepped into my path right then with the men he had just watched the fight with. “Here he is, my, uh…” His hand vised my shoulder. “Number one fighter.”
Son.
A three-letter word that he could’ve said in one breath was too much for him to speak aloud to people who probably knew nothing of our lives here. I meant so little to him. I knew this but still resisted accepting it. I was the stupidest self-aware person ever. “You won me quite a bit of money tonight, Jesse. You did great out there. Man, the things you could do if you considered fighting as a career. You have a future in it, you know.”

“Thank you.” I was smiling before I could control myself, and only the shame I felt for caring about his compliment finally made me stop.

“Congratulations. Your reputation precedes you,” the elder of the two men said. He had long black hair that hung almost to his shoulders and carefully groomed facial hair. He reminded me of a diplomat—a diplomat who enjoyed seeing teenage boys punching the shit out of each other. He spoke with a thick Spanish accent but his English was perfect. “Every fight I go to in the South, your name comes up.
Jesse Chance. Jesse Chance.
Who knew you were just a boy. How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” He circled me after I responded, inspecting me like I was on a used car lot.

“They’re looking to sponsor you,” Henry explained. “There are bigger fights on their side of the border. More organized. Lots more money. I told Mr. Acevedo that you would be perfect. Look how well you did tonight!”

“Sponsor me?”

“Yes.”
Mr. Acevedo
finally extended his hand, and his silent buddy did, too. As the younger man’s sleeve shifted I saw the edge of a tattoo on his wrist. I looked him over and spotted two more poking up from under his collar, on either side of his neck—one with the name Elena and the other was a Spanish word I didn’t know.

“My name is Francisco Acevedo and this is my business partner, R
amón Vega. As Henry said, our fights in Mexico are much bigger. They are spectacular events. The fighters are treated like kings. Celebrities! There’s more money and women than you could ever dream of. We sponsor three fighters who live on one of my properties. I provide them with food, transportation, fight attire…
nightly entertainment
…everything you would need to keep your…head in the game, as they say.”

“I can take you down there
, once you graduate, of course,” Henry told me, squeezing my shoulder tighter as he smiled. “We can take some time to get to know each other on the way. That’s long overdue. Then I’d represent you as your manager—all the fighters have managers—for a small cut of your earnings, and look out for you. Ramón has opened his home up to us while you train and fight.”

“How much are we talkin’?” I asked. “How much would I make as a fighter?”

“Someone as good as you, the possibilities are endless,” Ramón replied with a tight smile. He had no accent at all. “I’ve seen great fighters become millionaires in six months’ time.”
Shit.
Replaying the words in my head brought on a flood of excitement and imagination. I could leave Glory for good. I could take Mom on a vacation. She and I would never have to worry about money again.

“Millionaires?” Henry nearly choked on his spit.

“Mexico, huh? I’ve never been,” I said, rubbing my chin in thought, trying to play it cool. “But I know of that fighter…uh…the crocodile guy…”

“Carlos Garcia, the Cocodrilo,” Francisco said with a wide, proud smile. “He is one of ours…and he is very, very good. And very, very rich. Do you want to meet him? I can arrange a sit-down. In fact, what are your plans for tonight? I’m having a small get-together. Carlos is a few hours away but he will be there, too.”

“Not a damn thing.”

“Good. And what will you be drinking?”

“Rum, right?” Henry said. Sometimes after fights we all drive to Lake Bishop to bonfire and drink, and he always shows up to join in the revelry,
Captain Morgan
in hand.

“Tequila, actually…”

Henry patted my back hard. “Even better.” This apple might not have known the tree well, but it still hadn’t fallen too far from it.

“Jesse, your ten minutes are up. Let’s go!” Drew suddenly grabbed my arm and jerked me away from Francisco,
Ramón and Henry, and I wondered how long she had been standing there, and if she’d heard everything Francisco had offered.

Ramón
’s stare went straight to Drew and stayed on her. It bothered me for some reason, even though I couldn’t tell what the hell he was thinking. He and Francisco didn’t look like the kind of people who were used to others interrupting them or speaking out of turn. Henry’s eyes narrowed with apprehension as he whispered what sounded like an apology to the men. Then he stepped in between us. “Miss Hallisay, this is a private meeting. Just for me and my son.”

“Your son?” Drew and
Ramón both said.

“Ah…I
made the connection with the last names but did not realize the relationship was so
close
,” Ramón added.

“
I think you mean
extremely convenient
,” Drew corrected with an exaggerated laugh. Ramón’s mouth curved up into a smile, and for just a blink I thought I saw what looked like approval.

My father glowe
red in embarrassment and probably spite. “Okay, young lady, I understand that getting into my son’s bed is your way of rebelling against your parents, but—”

“With all
due
respect, Mr. Chance, fuck you,” Drew spat. That got a chuckle out of Ramón. Okay, so my girl’s a bit of a badass. With no type of filter.

“You little—”

“Everybody, just calm down, okay?” I said, trying to mediate.

“I suspect now is not a great time to talk, Jesse. If you’d like to contact me,
your father knows how. Goodnight, everyone,” Francisco said, and Ramón looked to Drew one more time, with the same expression from before, as he shook Henry’s hand, but my father still followed the men to the exit.

“Let me guess, they want you to punch someone?” Drew asked with frustration
lacing her words, after I picked up my prize money. “Those guys have cartel written all over them.”

“
Just ‘cause they’re Mexican? They sponsor fighters. And what do you know about cartels?” I asked.

“No one with
neck tattoos
is working a nine-to-five.” She rolled her eyes with her arms crossed over her chest. “What did they promise you?”

“Francisco said there are better fights in Mexico.” There was no sense in lying to her
; she’d already figured out why they were there. Outside, her car was still running, with her door wide open. Serious crime was nonexistent here.

“
Better fights? Are you fucking serious? And when would you do those? During Christmas break from college?” Drew said, her face twisted with scalding fury as she slid in behind the wheel. When she zoomed off, she forced a car with the right of way to swerve. “Were you really gonna go with them tonight? To some place to drink yourself into oblivion and have gross skanks trying to blow you?”

“We were just gonna talk, babe.”
She was annoying me but I kept my voice calm.

“W
hat about your mom? What would I say to her? How could I tell her you chose Henry over her?” The words hit like ice water to the face. “Mexico! Henry by your side, finally giving a crap—but not really—because there’s money involved…”

“Drew…” I said with clenched teeth.
My own anger was gaining momentum, like a tidal wave ready to sweep me up.

“For fuck’s sake, your mom is dying
of cancer!”