Page 32 of Four Cards Exposed

If he survives, I’ll kill him myself.

“Drinks, girls, make sure everyone has a drink,” Moore hissed as they both walked by. “I don’t want to see any empty glasses.”

The crowd parted, then closed behind both men once they were inside the ring

“Friends!” Moore began, turning to the crowd, his expression jovial. “Tonight is a special night. On my right, we have Jay, who’s reigned unbeaten for ten fights. On my left, Beast, who’s come all the way from Missouri to change that. Gentlemen, you know the rules. Tonight is a winner take all fight. Now, entertain us!”

Fear buzzed in Susan’s ears, making it hard to listen to the man’s words.

“Hey,” Pia said, standing right next to her. “He’s a big boy. Try to relax and get back to work before Sean sees you.”

Susan nodded and followed Pia’s lead, filling her tray with empty beer bottles and taking them all the way behind the bar.

When she looked up again, the referee had moved to stand in the center of the circle. James and his opponent had both stripped to the waist. In the yellow lighting, their muscles glinted as if they’d poured oil on themselves.

The two fighters circled each other, like wolves. The crowd surrounding them had grown to the point where even a child wouldn’t be able to slip through the squared circle. Not that this was an event suitable for children.

“Knuckle up!”

The fight was brutal from the get-go. James brought to the fight his two hundred and ten pounds of raw power and natural aggression. His opponent, however, did honor to his nickname. Susan could imagine Beast flipping tractor tyres for fun. His dark eyes were devoid of fear, devoid of any emotion.

When James struck out with an uppercut punch that would have felled a tree, Beast spit out a tooth and grinned, as if this were an every day occurrence.

As they continued to exchange blows, Susan saw the crowd’s excitement grow. They knew somebody was going to get badly hurt, and they couldn’t wait.

James attacked in a flurry of hits that made Beast’s body shake, but didn’t slow him down any.

Then it was Beast’s turn. James failed to duck and got clocked around the head—hard. While James staggered back reflexively, Beast circled around him, grinning avidly. Susan was reminded of a bear toying with his food.

He’s not tiring.

James must have realized the same thing. Susan saw him pull back, only to be struck to the ground by a punch to the ribs that made him howl.

A chorus of “Ooooos” filled the space.

The referee stepped in and started counting.

Susan willed him to stay down.

Stay down or he’s going to keep hitting you.

She saw James’s palm slap the ground—his other hand still wrapped tight around his middle—and knew he wasn’t going to stay down. He knew, as well as she did, that he’d be useless to Moore if he lost the fight—that he’d lose all standing with the group and would most likely be kicked out.

Susan didn’t care about any of that. No job was worth dying for. They would find another way into the organization.

And then James was on his feet again—wobbly like a newborn colt, and favoring his left side, but on his feet. The crowd cheered wildly. Beast looked up from his corner. A look passed between them, and in that look Beast seemed to convey that he respected any man willing to take him on. Then the moment passed. Beast cracked his knuckles and snarled.

Still wobbly, James raised his fists to protect his face.

The crowd went silent—expectant. Even the clanking of glasses had stopped. She could smell the people standing in the first few rows—could smell their sweat, their impatience, their desire.

It was at that exact instant that something shifted inside Susan. She no longer wished to stop the fight. She wanted James to win. More importantly, she needed James to know that she was on his side.

“Stay on your feet, Jay! Take him down!” The words were out before she could stop them.

James somehow singled out her voice. He arched an eyebrow in her direction, looking almost amused for an instant.

“You go, girl,” Pia whispered in Susan’s ear.