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“It’s not his,” Uncle Bowie said, tone bored, as if he didn’t care at all about what was happening.

I knew it was coming, unlike with the Harlots. Benzo Joe stepped toward me and swung a fist about the size of a cannon ball. I tried to get out of the way, but the punch landed solidly on my stomach, and I wheezed, sucking air.

“What the fuck, Dad!” Ridge yelled.

“You can’t turn down polite requests from Derek Uhlig.” Uncle Bowie sounded detached. I felt betrayed as he shrugged, but really, this wasn’t his fault, it was my parents’ doing. If he said he couldn’t get me out of this, he was probably right, because he’d been quick enough to pay a ton of money earlier. I took another punch to the side and scrambled away. Benzo Joe only grunted and stalked after me.

“He’s not doing too well, is he?” Derek’s shoulders shook with the laugh he was holding in.

“Go easy on the schmuck, Joe!” Hendrix called. “Christ, he’s got no fight in ’em at all. Look at him run!”

I could’ve cried when Ridge stepped between us and landed a hard punch on Benzo Joe’s chin; although, it looked like he was hitting granite. It didn’t seem to faze the man.

“What the fuck?” Benzo Joe said, shaking his head. “I don’t have any problem with you.”

“Saint can’t fight. Leave him the fuck alone,” Ridge snarled. He shook out his hand, though, and I wasn’t really sure he could fight much better than me.

“He’s Johnny’s nephew,” Derek called over. “Go for it.”

Benzo Joe smirked.

Ridge’s eyes went wide. “Shit.”

“We didn’t agree to that,” Uncle Bowie said, but he didn’t exactly rush in to stop anything. Maybe he couldn’t.

“It’s more entertaining this way,” Derek chatted back, as if they were sitting ringside and this was all good fun.

Ridge fired off a couple of punches that all landed on Benzo Joe’s face, and the other guys who had been working out cheered from nearby, but then Benzo Joe landed one solid fist to Ridge’s jaw, and he went down like a box of rocks. The guys laughed their asses off. Embarrassment flooded my body with heat, even though I’d never wanted to be good at fighting. I’d always thought of physical altercations as a sign of a weak mind.

I was scared for Ridge when the big guy leaned down like he was going to punch him again. Ridge shook his head and didn’t seem as if he was really with it. Even though I had no idea what I was doing, I rushed Benzo Joe. He didn’t do anything great, just pushed me to the floor like I was a frisky sack of potatoes, and I lay there, winded. Uncle Bowie stepped in and landed a punch of his own, and everyone in the room roared with laughter as Benzo Joe fell on his ass, holding his cheek.

“Both of you get up, now. I’m fucking humiliated to admit you’re Godfreys.”

As I forced myself to my feet with my body aching in some unpleasant ways, Hendrix came over and slapped my shoulder. “What you want to do is actually hit the other guy.” He winked at me and bit the tip of his tongue.

“No shit,” Ridge snarled at him as he stood and shook out his shoulders.

“Both of you get your hands in the air.” Hendrix raised his fists, and I shakily copied him. He grinned. “There you go. Jesus. Don’t just take a beating. You dish it out, too.”

Benzo Joe growled as he staggered to his feet and pointed at Derek. “I was promised five minutes with the man who stole the money. That’s half the reason I’m doing this fucked-up survival game. This isn’t what we agreed to, Uhlig!”

Derek crossed his arms. “This is as close as I could get. He’s right there. Beat him to death already and let’s get the fuck on with our day.”

I moaned as Uncle Bowie dragged Ridge out of the way, and Benzo Joe came for me again.

“Yeah, hands up, come on,” Hendrix said from nearby. “You can do it!”

Hell, even strangers were talking to me like I was a dog. I held my breath until Benzo Joe was close to me, then swung. I was shocked when I actually landed a hit across his face. My knuckles ached from slamming his temple.

“That’s five minutes,” Derek said blandly, but Benzo Joe swung at me again.

“Oh, fuck this,” Uncle Bowie said, and he stomped forward and grabbed the guy by one ear, which had him screaming, then jammed him in the face with his fist until blood gushed. Benzo Joe fell to the floor, holding his nose.

Derek laughed and clapped his hands. “Thanks for stopping by. Hell, that was good, Bowie. You’re a real hoot when you wanna be.”

I shook from head to toe as Hendrix laughed and slapped his hands to the sides of his face. I didn’t think any of this was funny. “You gotta keep working on those punches,” he said.

With nothing left to lose, I nodded. “Yeah, sure.”