Page 44 of The Silent Night Stalker
“Put it in the fridge. There will be food at the fight. Good food. Alfonzo spares no expense, especially for New Year’s Eve.”
“Do I have time to change?”
“Hurry.”
While I run upstairs, Enzo slowly follows me. By the time I’ve got a nice button-up shirt and sweater picked out, he’s reached my bedroom. His eyes scan the room, saying nothing. I try not to be self-conscious. His place is so much nicer and well-loved.
“Thank you for inviting me,” I say once I have my sweater on over my head and my shirt tucked into my jeans. “Does this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”
His grin spreads across his face. “Sure, why not?”
EnzoandIwalkinto the underground parking garage where the fight will be held. My heart blooms when he takes my hand in his.
The garage is filled with cars, but there’s a large space where a boxing ring is set up. Surrounding the area are bright lights run by generators. And in a far corner is a long table full of food and drinks. My stomach rumbles with hunger.
We stop in front of an older man, bigger than Enzo. He has a shaved head and looks scary. They give each other bro hugs before Enzo turns his attention to me. “Sal, this is Constantine. We’re together. Con, this is Sal. He’s a former UFC fighter and my trainer.”
I give the man a tentative wave. He gives me a nod in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Constantine.”
“Hello.”
“Since when have you liked them small?” he asks Enzo as if I’m not here. I bristle with irritation, but I don’t say anything because they’re friends.
“Be nice, Sal.” Enzo winks at me and squeezes my hand. “Don’t mind Sal. He likes to tease me, but really, he’s just jealous because he’s so desperate to bottom.”
“Pfft, asshole. I hope Cruz breaks your nose.”
Enzo throws his head back and laughs. “He just might.” He looks down at me and squeezes my hand again. “Go grab some food, baby. I’ve got to get ready.”
“Okay.”
The place is quickly filling with people. I had no idea these underground fights were so popular. I guess Enzo makes good money from them.
I grab myself a plate and fill it with some prime rib, rosemary potatoes, cornbread, sautéed spinach with garlic, and a glass of champagne. There are some tables and chairs scattered about, so I find a place to sit alone. I want to be here for Enzo, but I definitely don’t want to talk to these strangers.
As I eat, I watch Enzo strip down to his shorts, then Sal wraps his hands. I know firsthand how hard Enzo punches. I feel sorry for his opponent.
After I finish eating and feel full, I find a place to stand to watch the fight. Enzo is focused and serious now. His opponent is the same in his corner. He’s similar in size and height to Enzo, but he looks cruel. His face looks like it’s been smashed too many times, and his body is covered in tattoos, but they aren’t pretty like mine or Enzo’s.
Soon, the fight starts, and the crowd gathers. There’s so much noise between the generators, people yelling and placing bets, and the rock music. It’s chaotic, and it stresses me out a little.
Enzo and Cruz circle each other like hawks, never taking their eyes off one another. They gently bounce, their gloved hands up high to protect their faces. Enzo is the first to strike with a kick and a punch, but Cruz blocks it and does a counterpunch that almost connects, but Enzo bounces out of the way on time.
A familiar unease starts to wash over me. I shift my feet, trying to watch the fight, but instead, I’m glancing at the crowd, who are so hungry for blood. They want to see pain and red. They’ve paid good money for it. I know Enzo does this for a living, but I don’t like this at all.
When I look back at the fight, Cruz punches Enzo in the face, and his head snaps back before he recovers.
I close my eyes as my pulse kicks up fast enough for me to feel it through my body. My lungs draw up tight, making it hard to breathe. Soon, visions of Steve fill me. Punching, kicking, slapping, laughing, pointing…
The crushing anxiety sweeps over me. I have to move. I have to get out of here.
Can’t breathe.
It’s so hot.
I’m sweating through my shirt and sweater, and my bangs quickly get soaked.
As I move away, I’m shoving through the crowd. It’s hard. They’re so riled up, they don’t even notice me.
