Fractured Minds (Rebels of Sandland 3)

“I don’t think it’s your choice anymore.”

The fight zone was packed out and every platform that ran around the edge of the room was heaving. Wall-to-wall bodies, all here to watch my best friend fight. I’d never seen so many people crowded into one space to watch a match, and the thought that Brandon was about to do something so monumental in front of so many people made me nervous and sick to my stomach. People were chanting his name, shouting and drowning out the bass from the other room.

Effy and I had stalked the whole building, trying to find Brandon and talk him out of whatever he was going to do, but we couldn’t find him. When it came closer to the time we knew he was due to fight, we headed to where we stood now, right by the doors to the changing rooms, in the hope we could get to him before he entered that ring. He’d always been unpredictable, and tonight was no different. I honestly had no idea what was about to go down, but if I could stop a disaster from happening, I would.

I spotted Zak, Ryan, and Emily pushing through the crowds, heading straight for us. Must’ve been Kian’s moment to shine on the decks.

“Where is he?” Ryan asked as he took his place between Zak and me to watch the warm-up fight. “I couldn’t find him in his room and he’s not answering his phone.” He craned his neck to look around, but I knew Brandon wasn’t in here. The crowds would soon alert us to his presence if he was.

There were two guys I’d never seen before punching the hell out of each other, but everyone was still chanting Brandon’s name, regardless.

“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “But we looked for him too and he’s not out there.” I thumbed behind me to where the corridor to the changing rooms was.

“I hope everything’s okay,” Emily added. “I was supposed to video call Harper during the fight so she could see it all, but she sent me a text about a half hour ago to say she couldn’t watch it and to text her when it was all over.”

I felt a thud of dread dropping through my whole body. She knew he was going to throw the fight and that’s why she couldn’t bear to watch. He’d rung Harper to tell her and she couldn’t face it.

Just as Effy started to chat to Emily about some email and her half-sister, the crowd went wild, the spotlights dimmed, and we all stopped talking to look over at the ring. Rage Against the Machine, ‘Killing in the Name,’ blasted through every speaker, and when the lights flashed up again and Brandon walked into the room from the opposite side to where we stood, the whole place erupted. He was like a fucking film star, except for the tattoo-covered bare chest, grey sweatpants hanging low and his angry scowl.

Joe Hazel walked in after him, but Brandon didn’t even spare him a glance. He held his arms up to the crowd, grinning like a motherfucker. Then after he’d strutted around a bit, whipping his fans up into a frenzy, he gestured with his hands for them to lower the noise and listen.

He took his place right in the centre of the ring, leaving the ref and Joe standing to the side like spare ends. This was the Mathers show, and he was in full control.

“Hold onto your hats,” Zak joked. “Shit’s about to get messy.”

When Brandon started to speak, the whole room stopped to listen.

“I’m the fucking comeback kid,” Brandon shouted out pr

oudly, and the hush as he spoke ran around the room. He turned towards Joe Hazel and Brandon slapped his own chest as he said, “I’m the one they’ve come to see. He might look like he’s hard.” He thumbed towards Joe, laughing. “But there’s only one of me.”

The roar and chants filled the air again, and Brandon went to stand nose-to-nose with Hazel.

“You should feel lucky we even let you through the door.” He pointed right into Hazel’s face as he spoke. “Your swagger’s fake as fuck. I hope you enjoy face-planting the fucking floor, ‘cos you’re too stoned to know when to duck.”

The crowd laughed and Brandon gave Hazel a dirty look then stalked away back to the centre of the ring.

“I’m the undefeated king.” Another slap of the chest and a glare Hazel’s way. “But you’re welcome to shoot your shot. I apologise in advance for the bruises, but know this… I’m coming at you with everything I’ve fucking got.”

The two of them stalked toward each other like wild stags ready to claim their territory, and the ref got in-between them to break them apart and recite the rules.

“He’s gonna do it,” Effy whispered low into my ear. “But he needs it to look authentic. Brandon’s all about the show. This is no different.”

She wrapped her arm around mine but I couldn’t move. Every muscle was tensed, every inch of my soul was slowly dying. Would he really throw it all away? He lived for this, for the notoriety and the prestige that fighting gave him. Could he kiss that all goodbye? I felt nauseas at the thought that he would and that it was all my fault.

The ref called them to toe the line and the crowds cheered and shouted encouragement even before the first punch was thrown. Brandon stayed back at first, like he always did, studying his opponent and letting Hazel get a few lucky punches in. They both weaved and ducked, dancing around the ring. But Brandon was the better boxer, it was painfully obvious, and he was outshining Hazel by a mile.

After a few hits to the side of his face and his stomach, punches that didn’t even wind him, Brandon smashed his fist into Hazel, sending the kid sprawling to the hay bales. He reined blow after blow on the punk as Hazel held his hands up to protect himself. Then, Brandon powered a right hook into his face and Hazel faltered, grappling to stay upright as blood started to pour from his nose. The ref stepped forward and intervened, asking Hazel if he was okay, and the crowd jeered at the interruption. The ref didn’t care and he shooed Brandon away and ignored the crowds. I doubt he’d have given Brandon the same level of care and that made something click in my mind.

“Did we choose the refs?” I leant over to ask Ryan.

“Not this guy. He turned up with the others. Said Ron couldn’t make it and he’d come in his place.”

Was it paranoia on my part to suspect that this ref might favour Hazel and could be working for the soldiers? I wouldn’t put it past them.

The fight carried on and we watched Brandon out-smart the guy at every turn. Pound after pound his fist powered into Hazel, perfect jabs that sent him staggering around the ring like an idiot trying to claw back some dignity. Like he’d said to me back in the changing rooms, this was a done deal. The kid wasn’t even in the same league as Brandon and his lack of ability was painful to watch. Maybe this wasn’t going to go the way I thought it would after all?

But then it all changed.