Page 100 of Four Cards Exposed

Eventually, somebody came to grab Raul and drag him away.

Again, the ceremony with the hat. This time, it was the large man who’d first put in his ring who stepped in to fight.

Susan had been quiet for a while now, but now started whimpering.

“Stop, James! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

I don’t want you to get hurt, either.

The large man looked through James and addressed Susan directly. His expression was one of great satisfaction.

He’s excited by her fear.

“Primero le voy a matar, y luego gritarás mi nombre.”

James didn’t need to speak Spanish to understand a threat when he heard one.

“You’re not getting your hands on her.”

The large man struck first, a hard punch to the head, but slow enough that James had no trouble weaving away from. It opened up the man’s kidney area, and James struck there. He hit hard, expecting to send him to his knees, but his opponent barely flinched.

The man grabbed James around the neck and hurled him to the ground. For an instant, James couldn’t draw breath, but he had enough air in his lungs to scuttle back, like a crab, until he could stand up again.

James shook, angry with himself. He couldn’t let his opponent grab him like that again. One well-placed kick when he was down, and it would be lights out for him.

On the sidelines, Mendoza smiled placidly, as if he were watching a soccer match.

Bastard just needs some popcorn.

James and his opponent exchanged a few more punches, all of them hard enough to jar, none of them solid enough to be a knockout punch. Eventually, the man saw a space and came to grab him by the neck again.

James hid a smile.

That wasn’t going to work on him a second time.

James watched the space opening up between the man’s arms and struck him across the jaw with an uppercut punch that would have felled a tree. He followed it with his best left hook, praying it would be enough.

For a moment, his opponent remained standing.

No.

Slowly, as if in a dream, the man crumpled, falling flat onto his face.

The crowd stood by in silence until Mendoza snapped his fingers, signaling for someone to come pick up the fallen man.

James dragged in a raspy breath and wiped sweat and blood from his hairline. He wanted to put his hands on his knees and rest for a second, but couldn’t afford the show of weakness.

Fuck.

He was tired.

And there are still a lot of items left inside that hat.

He stood up straight, trying to appear unaffected by the proceedings, as a third man stepped in front of him. This man was younger, but there was nothing child-like about his bulging muscles. He was hairy everywhere except on his head, which was shaved clean. The side of his head sported the Mendoza Cartel’s coralillo snake.

The man looked at Susan and licked his lips.

James’s stomach turned.