Page 33 of The Fighter

“You’ve been on a cruise with a client, Shane. Also private yachts.”

He paused. “Oh yeah.”

I scratched my ear and tried to be patient. Shane did his homework, so I wasn’t going to snap at him. “So what did Anthony say?”

“Right! So Anthony knows a rent-boy named Casey who said over a year ago he tried to hook up with this smoke show with two-toned eyes, but I guess they weren’t compatible or whatever, and the sex was super awkward. It was the only reason Casey mentioned it, because he had wanted it to work, I guess.”

A smoke show with two-toned eyes.That was Tav. Had to be. I tried not to get jealous about someone else touching Tav. It’d been over a year ago, but jealousy still burned through me. “Is there a way we can get in touch with Casey?”

“Anthony tried, but Casey has been out of communication for over a month.”

Fuck, I hoped he hadn’t left the city. Or died. I chewed the inside of my cheek. Shane was quiet for a moment, but his breathing had changed. I registered it immediately. “Shane?”

He cleared his throat. “Casey works for Devlin.”

I blew out a breath.Of course he does. I forced myself to speak. “I appreciate all your information, Shane. This was more than I could have hoped for.” The words tasted sour. “You let Anthony know to keep it quiet that you were asking around?”

“Yeah, and I didn’t mention you, Conrad. It won’t get back to you.”

“Good,” I said softly. “Thanks Shane.”

I hung up the phone and leaned back in my chair. A file folder sat on my desk in front of me. I’d already looked through it, as Nik had dropped it off that morning. It contained haunting details of Devlin’s criminal escalation. For a while, it had seemed that Soto’s actions had hurt Devlin enough for him to curb his activities, but lately, no matter what Soto did, Devlin only worked harder. The bodies he left in his wake now were carved with the remnants of his anger and desperation.

For a while, I’d ignored his underground fighting ring, because his focus had been on illegal gambling of the fights, which wasn’t necessarily a concern of mine, not when he was coercing barely legal adults to sell their bodies on the streets with no protection.

But lately, he’d been pouring more energy into this fights. There were rumors about battles to the death, and Devlin had been using the fights as covers to conduct backdoor businesses with those in attendance. The fights were now the center of his enterprise.

The wise decision would be to send Nik and trusted members of his crew to a fight to scout it out. So far, the information we’d been able to gather was secondhand. But I wasn’t in a wise mood. My appearance at a fight would get back to Devlin, but it was also an opportunity to try to find Casey. His sex workers were always at the fights.

How would Tav have met Casey? In the back of my mind, I’d entertained that Tav could somehow be mixed up with Devlin, but I hadn’t let myself go there, not yet. The thought was too ugly. But it was entirely possible Tav owed a debt to Devlin. Maybe he worked it off by shaking down debtors or working security on a job. I didn’t even want to let my mind go there, because the thought made me ill.

All I knew was that the next fight was in a week. And I planned to be there.

THIRTEEN

Tav

Something was off tonight. I didn’t get nervous for fights anymore, but the way Lary taped my hands with a stiff jaw and jerky movements sent a chill down my spine.

He glanced up at me with what seemed like real fear in his eyes. “I know you’re a good grappler, but don’t let Shock get you on your back. You hear me? He’ll do real damage, Husk.”

“Okay,” I murmured. I didn’t let anyone get me on my back.

Lary kept talking, which was weird. Usually he gave me a few pointers or some words of encouragement, but never like this. He sort of rambled nonsense as his fingers prodded at previous injuries, like my left shoulder I’d dislocated two years ago and my right ankle that I’d sprained a few months after that. “How’s this feel?” He dug the heel of his palm into my shoulder, and I winced. The muscles were still a bit weak and damaged. He pressed his lips together. “Painful?”

I shrugged. What was there to say? I couldn’t feel pain in the same way I used to. It all hurt. “Sometimes. I know how to protect it when I fight.”

“The ankle?”

“Not a hundred percent.”

Lary sighed and stepped back, rubbing at his forehead. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I didn’t say anything. He wasn’t the only thing off tonight. Casey hadn’t shown up with my shot of whiskey. I hadn’t seen Casey in weeks. I was beginning to worry about him.

And I’d never fought in this building, a massive warehouse twenty miles outside of Detroit. I’d immediately been ushered into a small supply room that held some shelving, a few dusty chairs, and the cafeteria-style table I currently sat on while Lary worked on taping my hands. This warehouse had a ring and everything when usually there were just a few tape marks on the floor to block off the fight area. I hadn’t really thought about it too much, but that coupled with Lary’s behavior set me on edge.

And it only got worse when the doors to the supply room burst open. Lary shifted to my side, and his fingers grazed my wrist, squeezing once, before dropping away. I glanced up, unable to hide my surprise when Devlin Walsh strode through the door, four large men at his back.

I hadn’t seen Devlin in at least six months. He didn’t make it a habit to see me, and I was grateful for it since every time I laid eyes on him, I felt homicidal. Despite learning jiu jitsu and mixed martial eyes from a young age, I’d never reveled in the violence of it. To me, fighting had always been about skill and competition. The sport of it. Not the crowds or the money. Just me and my body, improving my kills. Winning. I wondered often if I could have settled into my Husk role without losing myself if I’d enjoyed the blood and pain and violence of taking another man to the mat. But I didn’t, and being Husk had also deadened any love I had for the sport. Because Devlin didn’t run a sports ring. He ran a fighting ring where men bet on how much we could make each other bleed.