Page 35 of Lawless
"When you...you..." He sucked in a deep breath and tried again. "When you shoved my head in that bucket of dirty oil."
The crowd burst into uproarious laughter. Even Reaper covered his mouth and chuckled. But I could only stare in open-mouthed shock.
"It's what you signed up for, Prospect," Jandro replied with a shrug. "But I get it. You're tired of being pushed around and you wanna hit back. So come on, boy." He beckoned him closer with his fingers. "Like I said, I'll let you take the first swing."
The young man stepped closer, sweat already forming on his brow. He shrugged off his cut, leaving it on the ground behind him. No one held onto it for him. He approached Jandro cautiously, their eyes glued to each other.
I could already tell there was no way this kid would win. The difference between his and Jandro's movements were like a sea lion approaching a bull. He'd be lucky to land anything on the vice president.
They circled each other for what felt like a full minute before the prospect took his swing. He aimed for Jandro's head, but was slow and unbalanced, leaning too much of his weight into the punch. The VP dodged it easily, his hands still relaxed at his sides. The return strike came almost too fast to be seen. The prospect's head snapped to the side and he stumbled, spitting blood on the pavement.
I wanted to cover my eyes but couldn't look away. The crowd cheered at the violence and bloodshed, but I could barely stand it. My job was to put people back together. Why would they hurt each other intentionally?
Jandro at least waited until the prospect was steady on his feet again. His next punch came to the man's belly, making him double over. Jandro then grabbed the back of his opponent's neck and drove a knee into his ribs. The prospect crumpled to the ground and raised one shaky hand.
"Stop...no more," he wheezed.
Cheers broke out and Jandro lifted his fists victoriously to the sky. He winked at me and bit his lip suggestively, but I was too stunned to respond.
In the next moment, he leaned over to say something into the defeated man's ear and patted his back encouragingly. To my utter shock, he held out a hand and lifted him to his feet. Together, the two men walked through the crowd of people to the sidewalk in front of Reaper's house, where Jandro sat him down and shoved a beer in his hand before returning to everyone else.
Knowing I couldn't just stand by and do nothing, I approached Jandro's defeated opponent once he was left alone.
"Hi," I said, kneeling in front of him. "I'm a medic. Will you allow me to look over your injuries?"
"Um." He looked up at me nervously, blood still dripping from his mouth. "I don't think Reaper will like—“
"Reaper doesn't control what I do," I cut him off. "I'm askingyou. Would you like my help or not?"
"Um, okay."
I moved closer, inspecting his lip as closely as I could in the dim streetlight.
"I'm Mariposa. What's your name?"
"Stephan," he answered. "But just call me Prospect."
"Why? What does that mean?" The bleeding from his mouth had slowed, which meant he hadn't lost a tooth or part of his tongue. I moved on to ribs.
"It means I'm like an apprentice," he explained. "I'm not an official member of the club until I prove myself. So I don't have any patches on my cut and I do everyone's dirty work." He turned his head to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood before taking a long pull of beer.
"And what, you just have to put up with them abusing you?"
"It's hazing," he corrected me gently. "And yeah, it's just part of it, like Jandro said. He didn't even let me work in the shop with him until last month."
"So he gives you the privilege of a skilled job, then dunks your head in dirty oil?" I shook my head in disbelief. "How long have you been a prospect?"
"About six months. I hope to be patched in by a year." His eyes brightened. "Jandro told me I did good today. That stepping up for Fight Night earned me a lot of respect."
"I don't understand it," I sighed, pulling my hands back. "But he didn't injure you too badly, thankfully."
"Oh, I knew he wouldn't. It doesn't even hurt, really."
"That's the adrenaline talking," I chuckled. "You're going to be sore as hell tomorrow, though."
"Worth it." He gave a smile, which would have been cute if his teeth weren't smeared in blood. "Hey, can you do me a quick favor?"
"Sure."
