Ringside (14 page)

Angel

“You make it sound
so simple, you know,” I told Jessie. I had no intention of doing what he was
asking me to do, but I figured the more I could get him talking, the more
ammunition I might have against him for later.

Jessie shrugged,
his fat shoulders coming up around his ears for a second, making him look
rounder than ever. He snatched the cigar from his mouth and pointed it at me.
“It
is
simple, dummy. Listen, Mickey
Davis isn’t supposed to be able to go the distance. Smart money’s on you, of course,
and the bookies are telling me that anyone who’s anyone is on your side. You’re
making five grand from this fight just for stepping in the ring. I’m telling
you the Carellos are offering you ten times that to take a dive in the fourth.
Look at me during that round, and I’ll give you the sign.” He rubbed the tip of
his nose with his thumb to demonstrate. “Got it?”

I nodded. “I hear
you. And I’m telling you it isn’t that easy.” I had to play it careful. If I
didn’t put up enough of a fight and make Jessie feel like he’d convinced me, I
knew he’d be suspicious. If he or the Carellos thought I was going to go
against their plan and try and knock Davis out, they wouldn’t bet their
formidable wealth against me.

And if they didn’t
do
that
, they’d have more than enough
resources to come after me with everything they had, once they saw that they’d
been double-crossed.

“Angel,” Jessie
said, pulling up a stool and sitting down on it before leaning in and putting
his beefy hand on my shoulder, playing the role of aging mentor far too well
for my liking. “Just keep your head down, your mouth shut, and do what you’re
told, huh?”

“What about
after?” I asked him. Even though I wasn’t going to let him sway me, I was still
honestly curious as to how he’d answer the question. “What am I supposed to
make of my career, once people start talking about how it looks like I took a
dive? Hell, if I can’t win a fight when all the smart money’s on me, like you
said, when am I going to get a chance to step back into the ring?”

Jessie made a
pained face and put a fist to his chest, letting out a loud burp that sounded
like it burned on the way up. “That’s not your concern, man. That’s where I
come in. We get a rematch, you see?
That’s
where the real money is. Maybe you knock this David bum out then and maybe you
don’t, but the point is after that fight you’ll be seen as a contender for
sure.”

I nodded slowly.
It was bullshit, of course, but I’d probably agreed to similar levels of idiocy
spewing from his mouth before and just not know it. “If you say so…” I said,
keeping my gaze down at my gloved hands.

“I do, I do,” he
said, his mood cheery now that he thought he’d sold me. “Now get your shit
together, will ya? They’re going to play your entry music soon, and I don’t
want you looking like an amateur, trying to get yourself together when it does.
Game face, Angel. Put your game face on. I want you looking like you’ve got bad
ideas and the means to make them happen, son.”

That wasn’t hard
at all. I stood up, hit my gloves together a couple of times and let him lead
me to the hallway. Once the music started, they’d kick open the door and I’d
stalk down the aisle to the ring, cheers and boos raining down around me like
confetti.

I closed my eyes,
thinking of Sloane. I knew she’d be here. She’d insisted, even though I thought
it was far safer for her to stay away.

She’d argued,
probably rightly, that Nitro had snatched her straight off the street. Even
though he’d only been trying to warn her, anyone who wanted to harm us
obviously knew where I lived and could find her apartment with a little work
and a little more money slipped into the hands of the proper authorities.

So I’d gotten her
a ticket. She’d be in my corner, just like I was hoping she always would be.

I hadn’t told her
yet, but if this worked, I was going to retire. Maybe take up coaching instead.
I’d always felt like I had a knack for getting through to the up and comers,
the young kids who saw boxing as a way off the rough streets.

Kellerman’s money
would get us out of here. Maybe to Paris, maybe to Milan. Somewhere where a
ballerina of her talents could thrive, and a meager boxing coach could make a
difference, far away from the reach of the penniless, humiliated Carellos…

That was the dream
at least, and I clung to it as the music started and they threw the door open
in front of me.

Sloane

I heard the music
soar, and an instant later the spotlights that had been meandering around the
crowd snapped to the start of the aisle that led to the ring, pinning Angel and
Jessie in a flare of white hot light.

Every detail stood
out in sharp contrast to all of the others. Angel stared straight ahead as
members of the crowd reached out to touch him, to try and give him a high five
or pat him on the back or maybe even, in the case of a couple of the women he
passed, lean over and try and get a kiss.

He wasn’t
responding, though. My heart hurt for him. The crowd was on his side. Everyone
I’d been eavesdropping on was certain that this was his night, that he finally
had a chance to bust out of these lower level matches and make the big time.
I’d heard a guy telling his date about how lucky she was that she was getting
to see ‘this guy before he pisses off to Vegas, or something’.

In a perfect
world, Angel should have been given a chance to enjoy this. I knew that he
couldn’t, though.

I had no doubt in
my mind that Jessie had just told him to throw the fight. Everyone in the crowd
was expecting him to win, and now Angel was being told to find a way to lose,
and make it convincing.

Well, not
everyone
was on his side. I looked away
from him for a moment and scanned the crowd over across the way where Jessie
had been a couple of minutes before. It didn’t take me long to recognize the
men I’d seen him with at the end of the last bout.

The Carellos. They
were watching Angel like hawks, and as he went by them I could see in their
eyes that they had it in for him. Even if he did what they wanted, the man I
loved was nothing more than a pawn to them. Once they’d used him, they’d
dispose of him, throw him away so that he couldn’t point the finger at them
later and bring down their growing empire.

I touched the gun
again, feeing the shape of it in my purse. As frightened of the thing as I was,
it didn’t seem anywhere near powerful enough to touch men like those. They were
violent, greedy, despicable characters, and I knew that I didn’t stand a chance
against them on my own.

Don’t get yourself all spooked, now,
I told myself
fiercely, trying hard to bring myself under at least a little bit of control.
You aren’t on your own in this and you know
it.

Angel was ringside
now, and he gave me a wink that told me everything was going to9 go just the
way it should.

I wanted so badly
to believe him. I blew him a kiss and stood and cheered and watched as he
climbed into the ring.

His music faded
and another track started up. Mickey Davis, the guy the Carellos had decided
would win this one, swaggered down the aisle, ignoring the chorus of boos that
greeted him.

He was a big guy,
powerfully built, and I knew at a glance that the men who’d set the fight up
had known what they were doing. They weren’t about to take any chances, not
with the amount of money they had on the line. Davis was built to throw heavy
punches, but he didn’t look at all agile enough to stop a faster opponent with
a strategy that would evade first and fire off damaging blows once he was
inside his guard.

Davis was the
perfect fighter to smash Angel into the mat, regardless of whether or not Angel
was going to let him.

I couldn’t help
but let a little smile appear on my face. I still didn’t like boxing, but I was
at least able to appreciate that the
new
Angel, the one with footwork and speed and a mindset that let him not need to
take a punch to feel like a man, this new Angel I’d help to make was very, very
different from the old one.

Davis got into the
ring and immediately pushed his way past the referee and the other officials,
getting right into Angel’s face, shoving him against the ropes.

The boos got
louder, and a couple of the guys around me started shouting at Davis to back
off.

Angel shoved him
back, and the boos became cheers. I’d been expecting them to touch gloves, to
go through the whole ‘good fight, clean fight, fair fight’ thing with the ref,
but someone rang the bell, sending everyone except for Davis, the ref and Angel
scrambling to get out of the ring.

The fight began.

Angel

The bell ran and
everyone scattered.

Davis wasn’t just
hamming it up, either. My new training let me sidestep a sizzling right hook
that I would have eaten square in the face a couple of weeks ago. I could tell
by the way his eyes widened ever so slightly that he wasn’t expecting me to
dodge, that the little move I’d just showed him wasn’t in any of the video he’s
seen of me. He’d been coached by his guys to simply lay into me, to come out of
his corner swinging and landing as many shots as he could.

That would have
worked, before Sloane got to me.

Not anymore.

Davis got mad and
tried a couple of jabs, neither of which made it through my guard. I let myself
look slow for a second, and when the left cross came I moved my feet in a
flurry, ducking underneath and slamming my gloved fist into his midsection,
following it up before he could react with an uppercut that missed hitting him
flush but still bloodied his nose.

That
got his attention. The crowd noticed too.
I’d done my best to ignore them up until now, but the wall of noise that
erupted when I danced in to damage Davis and then danced out again came
crashing through my concentration, threatening to derail me. I heard cheers.
People were shouting my name, and as Davis stepped up and caught my with a
vicious punch to the body that came faster than I expected, I even heard them
suck in air right along with me.

The dude hit like
a freight train. He came after me again, clearly pissed off that things were
even a little different than he’d been told they’d be. I let him back me up to
the ropes, and when he rushed me for a clutch I planted my feet and socked him
straight in the face. The blow split his guard and rocked his head back, and
for a second I thought it was over right there.

No such luck. He
regained his composure and wrapped his arms around me. “What the fuck?” he
growled in my ear.

“Relax, man. I’m
on board,” I told him, before the ref was close enough to hear. “I hit the mat
in the fourth.”

“Change of plans,”
he said, and I could hear the smugness in his voice. It made me sick, that
these guys could think they just gave the word and everyone else had to adjust
to whatever the Hell they said. “We’re ending it now!”

I glanced over at
Jessie. He was up on the ring, clinging to the ropes so he didn’t fall off. He
was no fool. He knew what Davis would be telling me, and he gave me a little
shrug and rubbed at the tip of his nose with his right thumb.

Right. Either
they’d decided on a shorter fight then they’d wanted Jessie to tell me or, far
more likely, they were worried that I was fighting pretty well already and
didn’t want the crowd to swell my head big enough for me to think I had a
chance and go for the win.

Either way, they
were about to get a surprise…

The ref dragged us
apart and Davis came at me again. The smugness I’d heard in his voice was
written all over his face, and I danced in and gave him a series of lightning
quick, powerful punches to help wipe it off. He wasn’t ready for it, and when
he recoiled, backpedaling, trying to get away, I used my newfound footwork to
beat him to where he was going.

Davis threw a
punch, and I slid aside and countered, firing a blistering blow to his body. I
felt something snap when the punch landed, and since I didn’t feel a flare of
pain I figured it was at least one of his ribs instead of my hand. He swung
again, and again I got out of the way and then got in close, smashing his nose
flat with a right cross and bringing my left fist across in an arc that leveled
him.

I saw his face on
the way down. He was out. Davis hit the mat like a ton of bricks, and the crowd
roared its approval. Even though the fight had been over fast, I could tell
they thought they were getting their money’s worth.

After all, just
about all of them would be hitting up the bookies for a nice boost in cash.
Just about all of them, that is, except the Carello brothers. I heard Jessie
howling in rage, but I kept my head down and le the ref hold my arm up in victory.
People swarmed the ring, and I was glad to see that the only one that mattered
was right there by my side.

“Let’s get out of
this mob,” I yelled over the din into Sloane’s ear.

She nodded, and I
dragged her through the frenzy, pushing my way back to the dressing room.