Chapter 5

Sobbing, the man nodded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Curtis looked up toward Ezran, who’d gone pale. “Satisfied?”

Way to traumatize the kid, idiot.

But Lawson stayed out of it. Curtis spent more time with Ezran anyway and the teen was fairly well-adjusted, considering he’d been raised since the age of eleven by a street fighter. Noah had partially raised Reed as well and he seemed…all right.

Ezran swallowed, then nodded quickly, fisting his hands at his sides. “You don’t gotta kill him. He ever touches me and I’d do it myself.”

Pride filled Curtis’s eyes as he grinned at the boy. “So long as I get front row seats, sport.”

“Deal.” Ezran’s smile was a bit shaky, but he hiked up his chin and turned his back on the man as Curtis dragged the dirtbag out. Then he glanced from Matt to Lawson. “Ready?”

Looking almost as shaken as Ezran, Matt inclined his head and walked to the center of the ring. Lawson met him there, raising his fists to bump them with Matt’s in a show of mutual regard he didn’t feel. Every time the inclination crept in, one of those ugly symbols on the brick walls flashed behind his closed lids.

He positioned himself as Ezran left the ring. His focus narrowed to Matt, who bounced silently in place, fists raised in the typical stance. Confident enough to tell Lawson this wasn’t his first match.

A step back and Matt directed a swift kick toward Lawson’s chest. Lawson caught Matt’s ankle and used his own momentum to spin him around, dropping him hard onto the canvas. He gave Matt room to stand, brushing off the next kick with embarrassing ease.

Letting out a growl of frustration, Matt moved in close, throwing a smooth uppercut. Lawson dodged, then latched on to Matt’s next punch, hand on Matt’s fist, twisting Matt’s arm until he was forced to turn.

Barring his arm across Matt’s throat, Lawson whispered in his ear. “Three moves in and you’re already getting emotional. You’re lucky I won’t take ‘the usual’ from you.”

Matt panted, his jaw ticking against Lawson’s cheek. “What the fuck is ‘the usual’?”

With a sharp laugh, Lawson released him. “You never need to know.”

“Oh yeah?” Matt did an effortless kick-punch combo that likely looked pretty in a professional ring but didn’t have the intended impact here. “Still think I can’t take it?”

If only he knew. Lawson blocked another punch, cracking Matt in the jaw with one of his own. Blood spilled over Matt’s lush, glistening lips, smearing on his teeth as he sucked in a breath through them.

“I know you can’t take it, boy.” Lawson ducked under Matt’s next kick and swept his legs out from under him. He dropped with his elbow into Matt’s chest. “Talk less. Try to land a single punch.”

Completely winded, Matt rolled to his side, giving Lawson the perfect opportunity to end things quickly. He never conversed this much during a fight, but he was enjoying it. The rage and passion in Matt’s eyes were addictive. In an even match he’d be magnificent to watch. He’d probably won enough fights to think he stood a chance tonight.

His body was slick with sweat and blood and Lawson allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sight as he rose to his feet. There were chicken wings and a cold beer waiting for him, but he found himself wanting to toy with Matt a bit longer. See what the man was made of.

Leaping to his feet in a smooth motion, Matt feigned a kick, then drove forward mid-air with the other foot. Snapping his forearm down to protect his midsection, Lawson countered with a rapid jab that cut Matt across the high curve of his cheekbone. The next jab was to his mouth. An undercut to his chin sent him flying backward onto the canvas.

Heaving in air, Matt lay on his back, stunned. He turned his head, spitting blood onto the canvas. Rolling over, he rose on his hands and knees, head between his arms as he tried to regain his bearings.

He’d had enough, whether he knew it or not. Lawson positioned himself over the other man, twisting one of Matt’s arms behind him, speaking low. “You’re done. Take whatever deal Curtis has for you and get the fuck out of my club. You might think you’re a big man, calling us fagots and covering our building with your hateful shit, but you’re nothing. You’re a pathetic asshole who will always hate someone, will always blame someone else for your failures.”

“You have no fucking clue—” Matt grit his teeth and tried to break free, “—who I am.”

“You’re not worth my time.” Lawson twisted his arm harder. “Give up.”

“No.”

Abruptly dropping his weight, Matt spun to release the pressure on his arm and threw Lawson off him. He clipped Lawson in the shoulder with a single punch. Plowed into him, all form forgotten.

Lawson curved his hands under Matt’s arms, lifted him up, and tossed him into the ropes, standing back as Matt sprung off them and slammed down, his head bouncing off the canvas. He braced as Matt came at him again. He was finished playing with the man. He wanted him out of his sight and there was one sure way to make that happen.

As Matt rushed him, he evaded a kick and hit him with two quick jabs to the ribs, one to the chest, and a final one to the side of his face. Blood sprayed as Matt dropped heavily to the canvas, out cold.

Ezran scrambled into the ring, nudged Matt, then stood, grabbing Lawson’s fist and raising it as high as he could. “Obvious, but…we have our winner!”

The crowd erupted in cheers, chanting his name. Lawson gave Ezran a brief nod of thanks, then climbed out of the ring. He strode over to where Curtis was standing, looking far too pleased with the results. He’d set the punk up to lose. Risked a lot of money on it.

But had it really been a risk? Curtis knew Lawson would put every cent back into the club. Still, something about Curtis’s expression pissed him off. He wasn’t sure what the man planned to do now that Matt was even more indebted to him, but either way, he would make sure his position was clear.

“I don’t want him, if that was unclear.” He ignored Curtis’s amused look. The man clearly didn’t know him. Not anymore. “Get him out of here. I don’t want to see him around the club again. Noah would tell you the same.”

That wiped the smirk off Curtis’s lips. The man had loved Noah too, which had strengthened the bond between them all. Until he was gone.

“No, he wouldn’t. He’d want to know why I brought him here.”

“Maybe.” Lawson wiped the blood on his knuckles off on his slacks. “But I don’t fucking care.”