Page 124 of The Monster and the Masochist

I’d killed several hours before the fight just sitting with my dad, alternating between sips of wine and water as I did my best to keep myself just drunk enough to fight off the incessant creep of Samwell’s phantom fingers, while staying sober enough that I could pass for normal.

I knew Jerry wouldn’t let me fight if he thought I’d been drinking, so when I showed up at the ring, I made sure to take a shower and brush my teeth before seeing him.

The white wine wasn’t as potent as my usual choice of vodka, so if I kept my distance from him, I was hoping he wouldn’t smell it on me like last time.

As I taped my knuckles and listened to his pep talk, I kept quiet, only giving one-word answers when absolutely necessary.

It seemed to work. He didn’t appear to suspect anything, and he was patting me firmly on the shoulders as he ushered me down the concrete hall that led to the main arena.

“Remember what we talked about. No mistakes this time. DeLuca has a mean cross, and it lights out if you let her connect.” Jerry was rambling, and I was nodding, my half-drunk mind feeling slow but somewhat level as I focused on putting one foot in front of the other.

“Svetlana beat Thompson last night, to no one’s surprise. Which means if you nail this, you’ll finally get your chance to fight her. So don’t fuck this up.”

Even in my fucked up state, my heart beat faster at that.

Svetlana.

The Russian.

She was the only other fighter in my weight class that I personally considered to be on the same level as me.

She was absolutely lethal, with two casualties under her belt.

I was flippant about it with Jerry, but I knew he was right. I couldn’t pull the shit I’d pulled with Andrea Bulgetti when it was time to face Svetlana Petrova in a few weeks. To beat her, I would need to be on the top of my game, which was somewhat concerning considering I was about to go into a fight half drunk and traumatized.

The screams from the crowd grew louder as we approached the ring.

As soon as I stepped out into the venue, the usual rush of adrenaline I chased like some sort of junkie coursed through me, and I felt a little steadier.

Squinting against the lights and the bone-quaking, blood thirsty screams of the crowd, I climbed up into the ring and settled down into my corner.

The announcer came online and began the usual bullshit. Stating mine and DeLuca’s names and weight classes, which got the crowd even more revved up.

Neither DeLuca nor I had killed anyone yet, but it was always a possibility in these fights, which is why I made so much money doing this. The entrance fee for nosebleed seats alone was over a grand, which the gangsters and criminals that normally attended these matches usually had no problem paying.

I think the pot for this fight was close to thirty grand if I won, not that I really cared how much I made. I never spent any of it anyway.

I split everything 50/50 with Jerry, and honestly, I would give him more if he would take it.

The stakes were high, and this particular clientele always showed up, hoping to see a fighter pay the ultimate price.

It made it addictive for both the fighters and the attendees.

I wondered vaguely if the crowd would get what they paid for tonight, considering I was so mentally out of it that I barely cared if I won or lost.

“Alright, kid, they’re gonna ring the bell. You got this,” Jerry said, and as if on autopilot, my body responded.

Slipping in my mouthguard, I stood and walked to the center of the ring to meet DeLuca.

She was leaner than me, but just as heavily muscled. Her eyes were clear and focused, and she frowned slightly as we circled each other, waiting for the bell to sound.

I’d fought her before, so I wasn’t surprised that she seemed to be able to tell something was up.

The bell rang, and she gave me a wicked smile… A smile that told me she thought she’d already won.

She swung, and I instinctively stepped back, missing the hook Jerry had warned me about by mere millimeters.

Muscle memory took over, and although I was much slower and less coordinated than usual, I managed to fall into a groove.