Dray (13 page)

Chapter 23

Dray

Birds chirped cheerily outside the small window. I’d only taken a few hits, but I’d given plenty and my body ached as if I’d been in a three day tournament. Sleeping propped up against a brick wall hadn’t helped. My stomach knotted with emptiness.

Barrett was slumped over and his head was pressed against the side of the cot. Color had returned to his face. Dried blood was smeared across his swollen bottom lip and chin.

Voices rumbled behind the office door and it swung open. Rico walked into the corridor with a grease stained paper bag and two paper cups. I’d been so focused on the food, I hadn’t noticed the person who’d walked in behind him.

Barrett sat up with a start. “Pete, what are you doing here?”

His friend stepped out from Rico’s shadow.

“I’m here to translate,” Pete said. “Rico came out to get me this morning.” Pete looked over at me. “He has a deal to make with Dray.”

I pushed to my feet. “A deal?”

Rico handed me the paper cups through the bars. They were steaming hot with coffee. Then he pushed through the bag. I looked questioningly at Pete.

“It’s good stuff from the local bakery, pan dulce. The coffee is safe too.”

I pulled out a large loaf of sweet bread and handed the bag and a cup to Barrett. I ripped off a piece and shoved it into my mouth. I was so damn hungry, I would have eaten the thing even without Pete’s reassurance.

Pete looked over at Barrett. “You look like crap, Mason. I’m sorry I got you into this mess.”

Barrett shook his head and swallowed a big mouthful. “Not your fault. Did you talk to my brother?”

“I left a message. The reception is pretty sketchy out on the coast, so I’m not completely sure he got it.”

“Shit. Well, thanks for trying.”

I took a big gulp of coffee. It tasted better than I’d expected. “So, what’s this deal?”

Pete moved closer to the bars. “Apparently last night, Rico saw you beat the crap out of his three guards.”

“Those were his guards?” Barrett asked.

“Those clowns?” I asked. “Why weren’t they armed? Too stupid to carry guns?”

Pete looked over at Rico, and the looks they shot each other proved that Rico understood plenty of English.

Pete smiled. “Yeah, sort of. He makes them lock up their guns when they’re drinking because one night, Junior, the giant, ugly guy, accidentally shot himself in the leg.”

I swallowed another bite of bread. It nearly stuck in my parched throat. “Too bad it wasn’t his head. That big ugly beast is called Junior? I’d hate to see Senior.”

“I’d say you’re lucky that Rico makes them lock up their guns. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure you two wouldn’t still be standing here this morning.”

“Back to the deal,” Barrett said, obviously anxious to change the topic from last night’s events. “Are we going to get out of here, or what?”

“Rico wants you to compete in a fight. He runs a competition at a sleazy little place in town. It attracts big money. He wants to put you up against a top-rated fighter. He figures people will bet against you.”

“Then I win and Rico sweeps in mounds of cash. I get it. But I can’t imagine that it would be a clean fight.” I looked at Rico. “No offense, but there isn’t much about this whole operation that seems the slightest bit legitimate.”

Rico seemed to be processing what I said. He said something to Pete.

“He promises there will be rules. The spectators have to check guns and knives at the door.”

“Shit, that’s reassuring.”

“Forget it, Dray,” Barrett said. “Too dangerous.”

“What are we going to do, Rett? Rot here in this jail cell?” I turned to Pete. “When is the fight?”

“Two days,” Rico answered with a thick accent.

“I’ll do it only if I get better food, a clean bed and Barrett is released.”

“No way, Dray. I’m not leaving you in here alone.”

“Listen, Rett, when you get out of here, you go into Mazatlan and call Clutch. I think we’ll still need his help to get out of this.”

Barrett shook his head. “There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you alone in here.”

“I’m not planning on staying long.” I looked at Rico. “After the fight, after I win, I’m free? Do I have your word?”

Rico nodded. “Si.”

Pete spoke to him and then turned to me. “If you win, you’ll be free.”

“But what if he loses?” Barrett asked.

“I’ll just have to make sure I win.”

***

The two men I’d come close to killing never lifted their faces as they carried in a small bed with a mattress that was only slightly less stained than the cot. I sat against the wall and watched them. I’d really done a number on the guy with my fist. There was no way he was pulling any air through his flattened nose. I almost felt a pang of guilt and then I reminded myself of the goal behind their late night visit. Junior must have crawled back into his giant’s lair in the side of the mountain. I was just as glad not to see his ugly face.

It had taken a lot of coaxing to get Barrett to leave me behind, but I’d finally managed to convince him that it was better to have him on the outside. He made immediate plans to travel to Mazatlan and get in contact with Clutch. At this point, I wasn’t completely sure what Clutch could do except offer money, but it seemed Rico had already devised a plan to get money for his prisoner without asking for bail.

Halfway through the long day of solitude, Rico had delivered a surprisingly tasty steak and beer, and I’d eaten as if it was both the first and last meal of my life. I’d spent the morning doing a makeshift workout. I had no way to train, so I pretended to spin a jump rope between my fingers. I’d held my breath and used the gross smelling cot as a place to brace my hands for push-ups. I’d done it more to keep myself from going stir crazy than for a workout. I had no idea what kind of opponent I would be facing in Rico’s sketchy fight, but I had to be ready for anything. Rico may have promised some rules, but I was pretty sure they weren’t going to be worth a damn.

My hand felt completely healed and stronger than ever with a piece of titanium holding everything in place. If only the rest of my body had been held together with metal then I wouldn’t have had to worry about heading into a fight that might prove to be my last.

The two men dropped the bed in the center of the floor and slammed the cell door shut behind them. I flopped down on the creaky bed, too tired to care about how gross it looked and smelled. It was hard to calculate the passage of time when you were stuck in a brick box, but the shadows had moved across the cell and daylight seemed to be fading fast.

I stuck my hands beneath my head hoping they would act as a barrier to any bugs that might be crawling in the mattress. As it always did when I was alone, my mind drifted back to Cassie, but I fought not to think about her. I didn’t want to think about her while I was in this shitty jail cell. It reminded me too much of how much better off she was without me.

I dozed off just long enough for the sun to set and a layer of sweat to drench my back. The door to the office opened and a light switch flicked on. A fluorescent yellow color flooded the dark cell as I sat up and scrubbed my hair. It stood up on my head. I would have given anything for a shower and toothbrush.

Rico, Pete and the man who’d gotten the better end of the deal by only suffering my choke hold came walking into the corridor. A massive shadow filled the doorway, and I braced myself for a visit from Junior. But the giant figure who moved into the corridor was not the monster from that first night. It was Clutch. His massive shoulders tightened with tension as he approached the bars. Then Nix stepped out from behind him.

Emotions rarely left me speechless, but I was so damn relieved to see them I could hardly get the words out. “Holy shit, please tell me I’m awake and you guys are real.”

I walked toward them, and as I drew closer I noticed that Rico was holding the gun that normally sat in his holster.

Pete seemed to have noticed my look of shock. “Your friend, Clutch, is a little intimidating. I think Rico has decided to keep his gun close.”

Clutch’s jaw tightened. “He’d better be fucking scared because I’m just one wrong word away from tearing off some heads.” He stared hard at Rico and the man actually tightened his grip on his weapon and took a step back. “Yeah, you better fucking take a step back.”

Nix looked around at the cell behind me. “Christ, Dray, what a hell hole.”

“Not exactly a five star hotel. Where’s Rett?”

“He’s in a five star hotel,” Clutch said dryly. “We decided not to bring him back down here in case this bonehead decided to throw him back in jail.” He paused and looked over at Pete. “Can you ask this guy if he and his puny bodyguard can at least give us a little space? I mean he searched us already, so I don’t think he has much to worry about.”

Pete said something to Rico and his leathery face twisted in consideration. Then he nodded to the other man, and they moved down to the end of the corridor, Rico’s gun still tight in his hand.

“How is Rett?” I asked.

Clutch sighed. “He’s been strangely quiet since he got to the hotel. I think this whole thing might have finally scared some sense into him.”

It was hard to know how much Barrett had told Clutch, but from the expression on his face, he’d heard enough. “Yeah, well, things almost got pretty damn ugly in here the other night.”

Clutch nodded, which assured me he knew everything that had gone on. “He’s lucky you were with him. Barrett said you hit a guy who was beating the crap out of a girl.”

My shoulders shook with a silent laugh. “Yeah,” I leaned my head toward Rico, “his son, of course. My awesome streak of bad luck remains unbroken. I’m an idiot. I should have just—”

“No, you’re not an idiot. You did the right thing,” Clutch said.

“Any other decent man would have done the same thing,” Nix said. “You just happen to have a much more effective jab than most.”

Clutch glanced briefly at Rico. “What’s this about a fight? I can’t even get this prick to negotiate a sum for your release.”

It was probably stupid because I was still on the wrong side of the iron bars, but just seeing Nix and Clutch had lifted some of the heavy feeling that had been pressing on my soul all day.

“I’m going to fight some guy who everyone will be placing money on and then I’m supposed to come in as the underdog and win.”

“None of that sounds good, Dray. We need to figure something else out,” Nix said.

“The fight is tomorrow night. If the rules aren’t too dirty, I can win it. Then we’ll all head out of here on the next flight.”

Clutch stepped closer. Rico watched his every move.

“Maybe he thinks you’re going to bend the bars of the cell.” I looked up at Clutch. “You can’t, can you?” I asked hopefully.

“If I could then they would be wrapped around his neck right now.” Clutch lowered his voice and Nix leaned in to listen. “Win or lose, we’re going to get you out of there. Once you’re out of here, you’re free, as far as I’m concerned. We’ll just have to wait for the right opportunity.” He straightened. “By the way, you stink.”

“I know. This hotel doesn’t provide many luxuries or any of those mini shampoos. Maybe I can just kill my opponent with bad breath. I guess Scottie and Taylor know where I am, huh? Of course they do. Why else would you two have had to come down here.” I looked at them both. “Do me a favor and don’t let Cassie know.”

They exchanged a look that let me know it was too late.

“Shit.”

“Sorry, Dray,” Nix said. “Cassie just happened to call Scotlyn right after I found out…” Nix stopped and seemed to be considering whether or not to tell me more. “Cass said she’d had a bad dream, and she was worried about you. That connection between you two hasn’t faded.”

I shook my head. “No, she just knows that I always get in trouble. The odds were pretty much in favor of something like this happening.” I made a good show of pretending that his last statement hadn’t gone straight into my heart.

Rico said something to Pete. From the look on the man’s wrinkled face, he’d had enough of my friends, especially the giant one.

“We’ve got to go,” Pete said. “Visiting hours are over.”

Nix put his hand on the bar. “Hang in there, Bro. We’re not leaving Mexico without you.”

They turned to leave, and suddenly I felt sick with the need to be out of this place.

“Hey, Nix, Clutch—”

They stopped and looked back at me.

“I might still be stuck in here, but I’m really glad you guys came.”

“We’ll be on that flight home by tomorrow night, Dray.” Nix skewered Rico with an angry glare as he and Clutch pushed past him. Clutch made a point to glower down at him, and Rico adjusted the gun in his hand.

The office door shut, and the light turned off. I walked back to the bed, sat down and prepared for a long, dark night alone.

Chapter 24

Dray

Rico motioned me out of the truck. The sky was shadowed with dark clouds and the air was hot and suffocating. My hands were cuffed but he’d decided against the leg shackles.

The crowd was spilling out of the door. Several onlookers grinned at me as if they saw a bundle of money walking past them. The dimly lit bar smelled as rank as the inside of the jail cell. Obviously, there were no fire regulations. Enough people were crammed into the place to make it feel as if the walls could buckle from the press of bodies. The crowd vibrated with the anticipation of watching two men beat the crap out of each other.

All heads turned and the voices quieted as Rico shuffled me through to the backroom. I glanced around but couldn’t see Clutch’s tall head in the crowd. I wasn’t completely sure they’d be let into the fight. I hated the thought that I was going into this completely on my own.

We entered a small room that held one lone bench and some shelves stocked with tequila. Rico pointed to the bench and I sat. I was sure Rico could understand a lot of what I said, but we hadn’t spoken even two words to each other. I had nothing to say to the asshole. I just wanted to be done with this and on my way back home.

Rico’s guard pulled a key out of his pocket. The skin around his eyes and nose was black and blue. White cotton stuck out of his nostrils as if he’d actually been to a doctor. His hands shook nervously as he opened the lock on the handcuffs. Just when I thought he was going to take them off, he wrapped the free cuff under the metal armrest of the bench and then snapped it shut around my wrist.

“Really?”

He anxiously avoided any eye contact as if I might attack him with a bench attached to my arms.

The walls of the small space pulsed with the press of bodies in the main room. Rico returned with a weathered looking pair of fight gloves. He held them out for me. I lifted my hands the few inches I could to show him that I was cuffed to the bench. He yelled something at his guard that I was sure didn’t mean ‘good job’.

The guard hurried back over and took the cuffs off. Rico handed me the gloves and took a mouth guard out of his pocket. It was covered with black lint.

I shook my head. “Not putting that in my mouth.”

He walked over to the shelf and grabbed a bottle of tequila. He poured the liquid over the mouth guard and then handed it to me.

I stared down at the tattered gloves. There were no wraps to put on first. I peered up at his leathery face. “Yeah, because it’s all about safety, right?”

He shrugged pretending that he didn’t understand, or maybe sarcasm didn’t translate too well.

“I’m going to warm up.” I yanked off my shirt and stood without his permission, but Rico didn’t seem inclined to stop me. The noise in the main room grew. Just like with other fights, the enthusiasm and the impatience of the crowd increased as each minute passed. I was more than ready. Whoever my opponent was, as long as he didn’t play dirty, I planned on taking him out fast. I’d only finished with some stretches when a man wearing a long brimmed cap and holding, what I could only guess was, a bookie’s ledger came to the door. They exchanged a few words and then Rico waved for me to follow.

Heads bobbed up and down to get a look at me as I entered the room. I scanned the sea of heads, but only Junior’s ugly face peered out over the crowd.

There was no cage, no octagon, just a circle of sweaty, drunk spectators to keep the fighters from being thrown. A large, thin mat covered the wood floor. Two small stools sat at opposite corners. I waited for people to yell and wave their fists at me as the challenger, the outsider, but they seemed more curious than angry. I felt every eye on me as I walked to the corner. Then, suddenly it occurred to me that if I won, I might get torn apart by the mob. Some of them had probably put down a week’s pay against me. Win or lose, I was screwed. Like Nix had said, nothing about this sounded good.