Page 34 of Dirty

It wasn’t going to be an easy $5,000, that was for sure. He was undefeated, I knew that much about him. Other than that, I couldn’t recall having ever seen him fight. After looking him over, I decided I needed to crawl inside his head before we crawled inside the tape.

“Understand why they call you jarheads now,” I growled. “With that high and tight buzz-cut, your nugget looks like the top of a fuckin’ Mason jar.”

“Fuck you,” he spat.

“You know what bikers do after they beat someone’s ass?” I asked.

He glared at me.

“We piss on ‘em.”

His jaw tightened. “Where’d you find this asshole?”

“He’s a regular,” Duntz said.

Butcher shook his head and narrowed his eyes to slits. “Not after tonight.”

“Listen. You’ve both fought in my fights,” Duntz said. “No biting, no kicking, no rabbit punching, neither of you have hair, so we don’t have to worry about hair pulling. If a man hits the floor, step away. I’ll have two men in the tape with you, both will be wearing red hooded sweatshirts. If one of them gives an order to step away, do it. If one of them grabs you, don’t swing at him. If you do, you’ll lose your prize money”

He glanced at each of us. “Both of you ready?”

I reached down and pulled off one of my shoes. “As soon as I get my shoes off.”

“You ready?” he asked Butcher.

He barked a cackle of a laugh. “Roger that.”

I pulled off my shoes, shoved my socks inside of them, and tossed them toward the fellas. Crip gave me a nod and pressed his fist to his chest.

I pressed my fist to my chest in return.

Duntz stepped aside, and one of the two idiots wedged his way between us. He looked at me. “Ready?”

I nodded.

He looked at Butcher. “Ready?”

Butcher nodded. “Roger that.”

He raised his hands in the air and held them in place.

Much different than a conventional boxing match in all respects, there were no bells, no rounds, and no stopping. When he dropped his hands, we simply fought until someone won.

His hands fell. “Fight!”

Everything surrounding me disappeared. There was no warehouse, no crowd, and none of the fellas from the MC. It was me and Butcher, and that was it.

I shifted my left foot forward and took an orthodox stance. His eyes fell to my feet, made note of my right-handed intentions, and he took the same stance. I had no idea if he could fight southpaw, but I knew if I needed to, I could.

I lowered my hands slightly and raised my chin. “I’ll give you one free shot, you big squid.”

I knew he was a Marine, and I further knew calling him a squid, the derogatory term for a Navy Sailor, would piss him off. Based solely on his undefeated record, I needed him as rattled as I could get him.

He took a step toward me. “You dumb fuck. I’m a god damned Marine!”

“One unfit to train, from what I hear,” I said. “Pretty sad when you’re too stupid be a bullet sponge.”

Give me an opening, big boy.