“I can't tell you, Tyrone. I wish I could. But it's for her own safety that she doesn't find out about DeLuca.”
“You don't have to tell me, Jackson. I read you loud and clear, brother. I'm just worried now. I have no clue what her story is—” He pauses and starts listing things on his fingers. “But just knowing that her daddy was murdered, it's got something to do with the feds, and DeLuca himself is involved. Not to mention, the fact that she can't know about us working for him—”
“And he can't know about her,” I interject.
“And the plot thickens,” he whispers.
“You've got the most important pieces, Tyrone. I just can't be the one to put them together for you because it's not my place to.”
He nods. “I understand.”
“You still okay with her moving in?”
He waves a hand. “Yeah. She loves you, Jackson. And I know you love her.” He closes his eyes. “Sometimes you do whatever you can for the woman you love.”
We walk into the club and he looks around. His eyes zero in on the cage. “And to answer your question. I'd be Biggie.” He snorts. “Especially tonight.”
“Tonight? Why?”
He puts a hand on my shoulder and smiles. “See? Now if you really were a hip-hop fan and liked that song, you would get it.”
I raise an eyebrow and he gives me a small laugh. “Don't give me that look, it's nothing. I was just making a crack about the album that song was featured on is all.”
Then he pulls me in for a hug, which is rare for him to do here in the middle of the club. “You're my best friend, Jackson.”
I hug him back and tell him the same, but an unsettling feeling washes over me. I'm about to question him about why he's acting so weird, but Ricardo shows up and they decide to do some last minute training.
Because apparently....they just got word that Tyrone's opponent for tonight got switched.
That only makes this feeling in the pit of my stomach worse.
One things for sure...I'm finding out the name of that album.
A little over two hours later, I'm standing in the middle of the crowd ready to punch someone.
Tyrone denied me access to the fucking dressing room. I spoke to Ricardo about it but he said that I know the rules before a fight, and since I'm not fighting tonight I have to respect them.
Then I told him that I thought something was wrong. I told him what Tyrone said earlier and I told him what the name of the album was- 'Ready to Die.'
What the fuck is going on?
Ricardo looked spooked and tried calling DeLuca on his phone to figure out what the hell was going on with this new schedule change, but of course, he didn't answer.
Then he went in and tried talking to Tyrone, but he said he shut down and won't talk to anyone. He's in his own little world right now preparing for the fight.
When I see him walk out and into the cage, I know it's true.
He's not Tyrone right now. He's his own version of the Hulk.
But when I look at him and his eyes connect with mine. He gives me the look. “I got this,” he mouths.
I nod my head and pat the space above my heart. To most people, we probably look like two sappy lovers. But fuck those people, I wouldn't have gotten through these past few years without him.
He's been the only good thing about making a deal with the Devil.
I look at Ricardo and he gives me the thumbs up sign. “Everything's okay,” he mouths.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Until I see his opponent walk out.
It's the same guy I fought last week.
Tyrone and I have a similar build for the most part. He's 6'2 to my 6'3, but unlike my 235lbs, he fluctuates between 230-245lbs, depending on when and how long Momma comes to visit.
I smile because I know he's on the upside of the scale due to Momma being at our apartment this entire week. Then I frown because I know that the extra weight won't make that much of a difference against a guy who weighs 388lbs and is 5 inches taller than him.
But I can't let myself think like that. Tyrone's one tough competitor. We both hold the title of being the best fighter in the club. Which is also why we train together.
He's never even lost a match. Hell, if I'm being honest, he's taken fewer hits than me now. He's only been hit twice, two separate matches.
His secret?
When he gets close to reaching his limit...he becomes fucking psychotic.
I'm not kidding, either. He turns into a full on psychiatric patient. To the point where he begins actually scaring his opponents. It's why his fans call him 'Hulk'. The guy just loses it up there.
In fact, I'd be willing to bet that Tyrone's fights bring in more money than mine do. He's way more entertaining to watch than me. If he's not scaring the audience to death with his antics, then he's making them laugh by taunting his opponent.
They announce Tyrone and the crowd goes wild and I join them. “Break bad on em', Hulk,” I call out.
He hears me say this and blows me a kiss. Ricardo shakes his head and laughs and the crowd goes even crazier. The first time he did it, I wanted to pummel him, but he thought it was hysterical; and so did the crowd, so he kept doing it.
Then they introduce his shithead opponent. For whatever reason, his eyes lock with mine. I hardly ever do this, since it's not my fight...but this time, I issue my own stare down, letting him know that on a personal level if he plays dirty with Tyrone...he'll be dealing with me.
Instead of heeding my warning like I hoped he would. His lifts his pointer finger and traces it across his neck horizontally. Then he gives me a wink.
My stomach coils. Something's not right.
I look at Ricardo, but he's too busy whispering words of encouragement in Tyrone's ear to look at me.
When Lou-Lou walks out on stage, I try getting her attention, but she just gives me a weird look and shrugs before wishing Tyrone luck.
Fuck it. I'm walking up there myself. Maybe I can get Tyrone's attention that way. Since I'm standing in the middle of the large crowd, I begin shoving people out of the way.
The match begins but I'm still a good few rows back. That's when I start screaming my head off and pushing people out of the way. When they notice that it's me and see how angry I am, they start moving with no hesitation.
I've never acted like this before unless I'm in the cage so they know something's up.
I'm screaming Tyrone's name like a lunatic but I don't care. I look back up at the cage and what I see brings me to my knees.
Everything happens in slow motion.
The beast is sliding a knife down the middle of Tyrone's back. This was supposed to be a fucking fight, not a goddamned stabbing. Ricardo's going off like a motherfucker on the sidelines trying to get to him, but the beast's team of people start throwing punches and kicks, attacking him.
I start scaling the cage, not giving a fuck about anyone or anything, only Tyrone.
I hop on the beast's back and shove my fingers in his eyeballs so hard there's blood dripping down my fingers. He pulls the knife out of Tyrone, grunts and throws me off his back with enough force that I slam into the cage, but I don't care.
I get up, run right back up to him and headbutt him as hard as I can.