He yelps, lets go—and I elbow him in the gut. As he doubles over, I push away—and into the blows of the two guys still standing. I throw my arms up to block them, but they get a few punches in. One lands on my jaw, and I stumble back, dizzy.
Getting beaten up. A fitting birthday present.
Fuck. My. Life. Lucky thing I like pain. So damn funny, and I start to laugh.
“Did I miss a joke?” Goatee guy snaps.
“Do you know,” I gasp for breath, “that my family was murdered when I was fifteen? The killer came at me with such force, he drove a butcher’s knife through me and pinned me to the door. By the
time I woke up, my parents were dead and my sister dying.”
I wipe at my watering eyes, not laughing anymore. “I thought to myself, if I survive, I’ll learn to like the pain. Pain makes you strong.”
Or so I thought.
“You’re nuts,” Goatee guy say and spits at me.
Yeah, that’s true.
With a yell, I launch myself at him and see the shock on his face. I’m under his defense before he even knows what happened. Barely avoiding a vicious kick to my knee from the other guy, I punch Goatee guy solidly in the solar plexus, then the jaw, snapping his head around. He drops like a sack of bricks.
Before I can catch my breath, I’m hit from behind. A blow to my back, and then a punch to the side of my head sends me down, on top of my unconscious opponent. My chest hurts like a motherfucker, my ribs are on fire, and blackness teases my vision. I try to move, but my body feels like a lump of lead.
I’m so fucked.
Which is probably why I think I hear my attacker cry out, then see a shadow drag him away, dumping him next to a dumpster and returning to stand over me.
Hello, hallucinations. A bad sign, if I’ve started imagining things. Concussion? A good probability. This is gonna suck ass.
When hands haul me up, I struggle, but I’m merely propped against a graffiti-covered wall, staring into a guy’s face, mere inches from mine.
Whoa. What the hell?
“What do you want?” I rasp.
He frowns, his gaze dark and intense, then lets go of my shoulders and steps back. “I was just helping you out.”
“Thanks.” Come to think of it, he has to be the shadow who pulled my last opponent away. “Saved my ass, I guess.”
A crooked grin cracks over his face and he spits on the ground, wipes his mouth on his arm. “I like your fighting style.”
“That wasn’t…” I try to get my bearings. How the hell did I end up talking about fighting techniques with an unknown guy in a back alley, with five unconscious guys lying at our feet? “I was taken by surprise. Didn’t think about what I was doing.”
“That’s what I mean. In underground fighting, there are no rules, and you took those assholes down. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Join the underground fighting club?”
“How the hell do you know about this?” I blink. “Are you Clyde?”
He rocks back on his heels and laughs, a deep, full belly sound. “You kidding? I’m not with these losers.”
“Then how the fuck do you know all this? What are you doing here?” Dammit, I hate being in the dark.
“Followed you here.”
Sounds like I’ve found my stalker. “And why?”
“Overheard Ralph talking about you. He’s a decent guy, he’s been helping me. And I can help you get into the fighting ring.”
My head is about to split. Feels like my eyeballs are about to pop out. “Why would you help me?”