My brother dances on the balls of his feet as his opponent circles him. Kline always says he doesn’t chase his opponent he lets them come to him. He said, “I’m not tiring myself out playing the cat.”
Tonight that strategy doesn’t seem to be working in his favor. I can’t help but scan the large room checking for Royce. I do it at every fight. Every time I am disappointed whether I see him or not. I chug my third beer and try to shake off my thoughts of Royce without much success.
Not seeing him makes me worry about him, his day job is just as dangerous as the fights if not more so. He works for a security firm. Seeing him with another woman on his arm hurts more. I can’t count the number of women he has been seen with in recent months. I never thought he’d be one to flaunt his flings in my face but I was wrong.
Tiff is squeezing my hand so damn hard brings my attention back to the fight. “Kline, kick his ass! Get up!” My knees are shaking and my palms are sweating. I have never been so nervous watching my brother fight before. But tonight he is taking a beating from Brent ‘The Killer’ Miller.
Get up Kline, I mentally scream at him hoping he can hear me mentally kicking his ass. Brent has him down on the floor in a choke hold pummeling his fists against his head. My brother never told me whether he was supposed to win or lose this fight. He says the less I know the better. Something I hear from him often. So infuriating.
His brow and nose are bleeding. His blood splatters onto the dingy mat making my stomach churn. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen him hurt, but there’s something about his opponent that scares me. He has this dead look in his eyes. A look that says he’s out for more than blood. I close my eyes unable to watch Kline suffer anymore tonight.
The crowd around me is chanting and I can’t make out the sounds as the bell ringing pounds in my head.
“Ladies and gentlemen winning by TKO — Brent ‘The Killer’ Miller.”
Pushing my way through the crowd I make my way to the back door of the warehouse to wait for my brother joined by Tiffany.
“What kind of mood is your brother in? That dude just annihilated him. You know him better than anyone, I just want to be prepared.”
“He’s going to be in a really bad mood, I would approach him carefully if I were you.” Normally I could care less about my brother’s conquests, but Tiffany is a close friend. I’ve already warned my brother that he better treat her right. I warned Tiffany too, but she says Kline is worth the risk. I just hope he doesn’t cost me her friendship. We’ve been best friends since ninth grade when we were assigned to share a locker.
We’ve always shared everything, I just never expected to share my brother with her too.
When Kline loses a fight he gets in a raw mood. The smallest thing can set him off. He hates to lose, especially for Charlie's dumb ass.
My brother and Brent reach the pair of us at the same time. Brent puts an arm around Tiff’s shoulder. “I’ve already beaten the brother’s ass. Royce fucked the sister. Whatever shall I do with you?”
That does it; I can feel Kline’s anger— so much so that I am shaking.
“Fuck you, Brent!” Kline pushes him, disregarding Tiffany’s close proximity in the process. She is knocked to the floor in the scuffle, but unscathed.
Now the real fight begins.
I knew my brother was holding back— fucking Charlie!
I help Tiffany up from the concrete floor. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, let’s go make sure Kline doesn’t kill this jack ass.” We walk arm in arm to the parking lot to find my brother in an all-out-face-off with Brent.
People have switched on their headlights to spotlight them, turning the parking lot into a makeshift arena.
Tiffany drags me to the back of Kline’s truck and we stand in the bed of his Chevy to get a better view. Now we are going to see my brother really give it to Brent. I almost feel bad for the guy, that blacktop isn’t going to feel very good. Kline lands a left hook in Brent’s side and opens up the perfect opportunity to lay into him. Repeatedly Kline drills his fists into the dude’s skull.
No one is attempting to step between them to break them apart. I’m sure it goes against both of their contracts to fight outside of the cage.
What seems like minutes tick by but it’s only been seconds. It is ugly and primal watching the two of them tear one another down.
Neither of them look very good. The pair of them are sporting split lips and knots are swelling on their heads. The guys continue to scuffle and dance for a few more minutes. Brent is growing winded; I can see it in his stance. The w
ay his chest is heaving is a dead giveaway that he’s running out of steam. He wraps his arms around Kline’s waist trying to catch his breath. My brother picks him up and slams him down onto the hood of what was a gorgeous yellow Corvette. It’s not so pretty now with the dented in hood.
The alarm of the car starts sounding off, and everyone jumps in their cars scurrying away from the scene as we hear police sirens wailing in the distance.
Suddenly I am locked in place, being held by the stare of the owner of the car — PG—Parker Garrett that sexy motherfucker has his eyes transfixed on me and I swear I can’t breathe. I am still standing in the back of my brother’s truck as the sounds of squealing tires melt into the background. It’s as if in this moment there is only Parker and me. I know what kind of man he is. Hell, he is the most eligible bachelor in Las Vegas, there was even an article about him in one of those men’s’ magazines. He is the unattainable. Catching a man like him would be like capturing a mythical creature. I wonder what he could ever want with me besides a one-night stand, if that even. The I realize he’s probably trying to get my brother’s license plate number for insurance purposes. I’m stupid to think a man such as him would be interested in a girl like me.
Tiffany jerks my arm pulling me out of the daze I was just in. We scramble into the cab of Kline’s truck leaving Parker standing with a look of bewilderment on his handsome face.
“That was quite a show you put on back there brother.”