I didn’t need to think. A jacked up meth-head wouldn’t last five seconds against me. At least Everest had some small chance of hurting me. Not bothering to answer, I bee-lined for the boxing ring.

Fighters parted for us like I was the messiah, and they were a rolling tide. Looks of awe and fear lit their eyes even as their ripped, sweaty bodies tensed in preparation.

It seemed my reputation preceded me. Again.

I summoned every rage existing in my blood and slammed to a halt in front of the mountain of a man. My heart beat faster as I embraced the part of me I pretended didn’t exist.

“We need to fucking talk.” I crossed my arms. I wasn’t small, but this man made me look up. His arms were bigger than mine, his torso thicker. Everything about him screamed sloppy and fake, whereas me? I seethed with reality. Mess with me and pay the consequences.

Everest, also known as Tony from the Wasps Motorcycle Crew, wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy hand. “Well, if it isn’t Scarface and his bitch, Barbie.” Sniffing in distain, he added, “Come to congratulate me? Come to get some pointers perhaps?”

A couple of men behind Everest snickered. He always came with an entourage—never comfortable on his own. A complete joke considering he cultivated a rumour that he killed men on a daily basis. I knew killers and this fucking idiot wasn’t one of them.

My spine stiffened as my body soaked in adrenaline. Oh, I would enjoy this. A whole fucking lot.

I looked to the right where the man who’d fought and cheated counted his winnings. Another one of Everest’s little minions. Fisting a pile of hundred dollar bills, his grin was full of greed.

Nodding at the evidence, I said, “Pity your plaything didn’t win on merit and not on fakery. Didn’t realize times were so tough you had to cheat to pay your bills.” Stepping closer, I snarled, “You and your idiots on bikes think you’re the law, threatening my club for payoffs, cheating under my fucking roof. Guess what? I’ve had enough. I’m calling your debts, Tony. And I’m done having your filth tainting my rings.”

Obsidian was a registered business. It didn’t matter that documents lodged with Inland Revenue said it was an upscale recreational gym. The government didn’t need to know about the illegality or the fine line of bribery we walked to keep local enforcers away. However, I refused to pay a cent to MC’s and mob members who wanted to acquire it.

I wasn’t a pussy, and I’d done far worse than any of those fakers had ever done. I’d like to see them try.

Everest rippled with anger. His eyes darkened until his pupils looked gigantic. “You’re a fucking dead man, Fox.” Shoving a hand in the direction of the man holding the cash, he snapped, “That there? We earned that fair and fucking square. Go back to your throne and enjoy your last night of sleeping without having to watch your back.”

I threw my head back and laughed. It wasn’t merriment or intimidation—it was cold and calculated. Everest glared, then tensed as I locked eyes with him. “It’s not me who has to watch their back. You. Me. In the cage. Now.”

Everest slapped his legs with meaty hands. “Ha! You think I’d demean myself by entertaining a little wannabe in the ring? No chance in hell, Scarface. I’m not fighting you. Leave. We’ve got another set to win.”

“To cheat you mean.”

He spluttered, sending his large neck wobbling with indignation. The fucker had a receding hair line, looking like a juiced up freak past his prime.

I took a step toward him. “I saw the knuckler duster, you asshole. This isn’t a negotiation. Get in the cage.”

“Better listen, Tony. Fox doesn’t make idle threats,” Oscar said. His arms stayed tightly crossed, flanking me like a bodyguard.

Everest puffed out his large chest, standing to his full height. His body threatened with impressive size, but I’d long ago lost the ability to fear.

“You want to repeat that, Fox?” Anger blazed in his eyes, looking like he wanted to hammer me into the ground like a rusty nail.  “I. Don’t. Fucking. Cheat.”

Loud bass and sombre beats of music pulsed through the club, intoxicating my blood for violence.

Goddammit, I needed a fight.

A punk kid, who stupidly didn’t see my scorching anger, sidled up close. “Wow, I didn’t know you were here tonight.” He bowed his head looking star-struck. “It’s an honour to meet the legendary Obsi—”

Everest snorted. “Oh, give me a fucking break.”

I glanced at the kid. Half-naked, he had traces of blood coming from his mouth. Someone had decked him hard.

“Leave kid. Go get another role model.” My voice didn’t rise, but it didn’t need to. It reverberated with reprimand. I hated being fawned over. Fawning led to affection which led to attachment which led to death.

He frowned, brushing back long blond hair from his forehead. “Umm, sorry. I’m just a huge fan. Your reputation is what brought me here.”

I bared my teeth forcing him back a step. This was why I stayed on the mezzanine level in the dark. No one understood. Fighters wanted to be me; losers wanted to run from me. But no one wanted to know my past. If they knew, they’d hand me over to every law enforcer around the world for my crimes.

Everest smirked at the kid. “Take a good look, boy. ‘Cause after tonight he’s a dead man walking.” Everest leaned toward me. “Get that motherfucker? Me and my crew are gonna take this joint and leave you in the dirt.”

And there it was. Freedom. He’d fucking done it.

Tonight had just got interesting. I’d planned on taming myself. One fight that ended with no broken bones. But Everest’s stupid power-trip had earned him a first-class trip to the ER.

The kid ceased to exist. A shot of energy filled me more thrilling and intoxicating than any illegal substance. “I was going to promise you’d walk out of here on your own two legs, but that offer just expired. You obviously haven’t listened to the rumours.” I tutted under my breath, shaking my head. “Big mistake. Big, big mistake.” My voice didn’t rise past a threatening purr.

Looking Everest up and down, I dragged my fingers through my shaggy hair. The warm wax sent a whiff of chocolate into the air. “You’re going to be handed your own ass, and then you’ll go back to the morons in your MC and tell them if they so much as come near my club, they’ll end up being fertiliser in my fucking garden.”

Everest roared and lunged. I sidestepped before his hands connected with any part of my body and pummelled his kidney with a fist. One hard, fierce wallop. I relished in the slight twinge of pain in my knuckles. Give pain to receive pain. Receive pain to give pain. A lesson I would never be free of.

Gasping, he held his side. “You’ll pay for that! No one fucking touches me!” Everest snarled, revealing gold-capped teeth. “You better walk away, Fox, or I’ll deliver the ass-whooping of your fucking life.”

I let him rant and rage, basking in his anger, feeding on it, drinking it in.

“I’m done arguing.” My temper vanished; replaced with the coldness I lived with, the vacancy that I’d never been able to lose. “Get in the cage.”

The rows upon rows of high wattage spotlights boiled us from above. A trickle of sweat rolled down my lower back beneath my black shirt. The only embellishment was the silver fox on the breast pocket.

I pushed forward until we were almost nose to nose. Inhaling his cheap cologne, I wanted nothing more than to bite off his nose and go rogue on his ass.

My reflection gleamed in his black eyes: a vague outline of a man with no soul left and a raw scar disfiguring his cheek.

The scar terrified most people, but my eyes unsettled them more—so grey, they were almost colourless.

“I’m growing bored of your disobedience, Tony. Make me ask again and I can’t promise you’ll remain alive. You had your boy use a duster. I have proof. You can squeal and deny all you want. Evidence doesn’t lie.”