Page 58 of Forgiveness
“I wouldn’t do that,” Steel gritted. “This can go down as a beatdown or blood bath—it’s your choice.”
Demon’s hand froze in mid-air.
“What we give a fuck about is the meth you’re dealing in our territory.” Hawk took another step forward. “Disrespect, shitting on our turf, and being so fuckin’ stupid adds up to you getting your asses kicked.” Hawk jerked his head back.
All of a sudden Goldie, Diablo, Rock, Hubcap, Jerry, Army, Throttle, Wheelie, Sangre, and Smokey bum rushed the assholes where they stood. The fight was on!
Flux took whoever was closest, which happened to be a tall balding asshole with a mustache out of some kind of fucked up ’70s porn. Maybe if he hit the jerk hard enough, he could knock him back to that decade. The Pistons’ patch said his name was Torro.I can’t get away from fuckin’ bulls. Flux chuckled just as Baldie shoved himself off the bike and let it fall on the dirt. His expression was half-menacing and half-surprised that shit had gone down so quickly. But thinking stupid shit and laughing about it was exactly how dudes ended up dead in these kinds of clashes. Flux clenched his hands and rushed toward the bull. The second he was in range, Flux hurtled a fist backward and pounded the asshole in the face, countering with another quick side blow that should have left little birdies flying around Torro’s head.
Instead, the bald asshole manned-the-fuck-up and rocked back on his heels, sneering and wiping the blood that was dripping down into the dirt from his nose. He took a series of good shots, but the fucker was clearly more resilient than Chet. Torro started laughing, a weird maniacal sound that burbled from the cuts in his mouth.
“You’re a piece of work, motherfucker.” Flux squared up again and waited for the jerk to take a cheap shot or two. He almost wanted to give the guy the chance to get in a few good ones, so Torro’s ego didn’t bruise when it was all over for him in the next two seconds.
The two bikers circled each other while the growls and noises of pain sounded out around Flux as his brothers kicked the Pistons’ sorry asses. From his peripheral, he saw that shit was going down hard all around him. There was a loud noise, like someone rammed someone else into a bike and everything toppled to the dirt. Loud grunts and a slew of insults filled the night air. Oh, yeah, Flux was back in the game, and it hadn’t changed at all. Unlike bullfighting, he didn’t have to mind his damn p’s and q’s here. All that mattered was he hit hard, fast, and didn’t wind up on the ground.
Flux stepped in to deliver another right hook, but Baldie went low instead of high and nailed him in the stomach with a blow that knocked the wind out of him. Letting out a quick, sharp gasp, Flux tried to recover before the fucker had any more badass intentions in his brain. Quick as hell, he self-corrected and grabbed his own fist that he had around Baldie, connecting it with his other one and bringing the weight of his body down onto the fucker’s back. Dude buckled like a seventh grader in his first fight as Flux brought his knee up into his stomach.
A hit for a hit was only fair, dammit.
The guy made a sharp grunt, his hands shooting out. Before Flux could track it, Torro whipped Flux’s legs out from under him with two sharp pulls of his hands. The airwhizzedpast his ears and he had half a second to compute that this was going to fucking hurt. Luckily, he wasn’t going down alone. The other bastard had caught him enough by surprise that Flux hadn’t had time to loosen his hands around Torro’s neck, so when he took a dirt nap, so did the big sonofabitch.
They landed with athudthat jutted through Flux’s spine, afraid he wouldn’t be able to move right in the morning. But the second he got a small sip of air, Torro got his ass half off of Flux, bracing himself with one hand. Shit, time to motor. But there wasn’t time. The other man grabbed Flux’s undershirt and went for a beat down straight to his face.
“Ugh, fuckin’ asshole,” Flux grunted, blocking his face with his forearms and fists, catching an off punch with one hand. The asshole was tiring. Now, there was some good news.
Flux didn’t waste time. He angled his hip off the ground, rolling Torro to the right and throwing his leg over him until they were in the exact same position, only Flux had the upper hand this time. His face still smarted something awful, but at least he could see, Torro’s eye was starting to swell shut. A small laugh trickled out from behind Flux’s busted lip, and he could sense it swelling as he threw another rough punch toward the guy’s temple.
“You always talk during a brawl, asshole?”
“When it’s fuckin’ boring, yeah,” Flux taunted him.
Torro came at him again, and Flux stepped back.I’m ending this shit right now.He stiffened his hand and when the asshole came close, Flux chopped him on the side of the neck. Torro groaned and bowled over, and Flux swung around and clipped him with his left foot. That did the trick, and Torro face planted in the dirt.
Without wasting a beat, Flux spun around and took in the rest of the scene. Shit was getting spotty and everyone was giving out; random guys were grappling on the ground while two-on-ones were happening all over the place. Jerry was caught in a headlock with two bastards going at his head.
Yeah, that shit wasn’t going to fly.
As Flux rushed over to help Jerry out, he saw the blade of a knife gleaming in the moonlight. Demon whirled around.
“Hawk! Fucker’s got a knife!” Flux yelled.
Then all hell broke loose.
