Page 141 of Savior
Axel takes a gander back at the guy, before he turns to look at me. “I’ve never seen you back out of a fight against anyone.”
“You’ve got Cherry to think about, too.” I press him.
“And you have Vanna.” He pushes back.
“And now that I do, I wouldn’t fight that.” I cock my chin at the junkie, who’s staring fixatedly at Axel’s back. A kind of determined, crazed hunger in his eyes as he shifts back and forth on his feet, body tense. I bring my focus back to the kid.
Axel frowns at me, but it’s more contemplative, than angry. “They’re gonna say I punked out. That I was afraid of him.”
“They’re a bunch of degenerates, who cares what the fuck they think or say. Be smart, Axel. Ask for another opponent if you want. But don’t fight that guy. He’s fuckin’ dirty, and by the looks of him, in more ways than one.” Axel lets out a frustrated sigh, and I can tell he’s conflicted, needing further encouragement to make the right decision. “You told me that you would show me you’re capable. That includes showing me you’re capable of making difficult decisions. Smart decisions.”
“You don’t think I can keep him off me?”
“I don’t think it’s worth the risk to your long-term health, or Cherry’s.” I insist. “Axel, I promise you, I wouldn’t lower myself to fight something like. Not if I had the choice. Not anymore.”
He seems to take a moment to consider my words, before he shakes his head and lets out another huff of air. “Alright… Fuck.” He slams his fist into his palm again. “I’ll forfeit.”
A wave of relief washes over me as I watch him turn and walk over to the dreg calling the fights. The man doesn’t look happy, like he’s trying to give Axel shit about it. The junkie is pacing his side of the ring now, watching Axel like a caged animal waiting for its dinner.
I don’t like it.
The crowd is stirring again, becoming collectively aware that something is up. Bets have already been placed on this fight, and I’m sure this is going to ruffle more than a few feathers. The announcer steps closer to Axel as he says something I can’t hear over the crowd, and I know he’s probably threatening to blacklist him if he doesn’t fight.
I’m about to step through these ropes and give this fucking asshole a real lesson in intimidation, when something nails me right in the fucking temple, hard. Hard enough to snap my head to the side and daze me for a second. A fuckin’ sucker punch… I don’t get to see who hit me. I don’t get to analyze why. Because that junkie is lunging at Axel now, who’s too wrapped up in an argument with the announcer to see it… but I do.
I see the fucking blade in his hand, too… Jesus fuck…
“Axel!” I shout as I make a dive for the ropes once more, but some fucking prick cracks me in the skull again, and now I can barely see out of my left eye. What I do see, has my heart dropping into the cold block of ice rapidly forming in the pit of my stomach…
Axel, sinking to his knees in the ring… blood running down his body, staining his gym shorts… smeared on his hands and arms… A look of pained bewilderment on his face.
I stagger from my knees back to my feet, as chaos breaks out all around us.
Viking is in the ring with Axel, kneeling over him, assessing his wounds. I hear him shout, demanding the shirt off some guys back, who immediately strips it off his body and hands it over to Viking. He quickly bunches it up and presses it to Axel’s body.
The spectators are scurrying in every direction like fucking rats evacuating a burning building.
All I see is red now, and it isn’t because of the blood in my eye. I scan the crowd for that junkie… He’s a fucking dead man.
A sharp whistle has my eyes darting in that direction. It’s the junkie. He’s grinning at me from across the warehouse, holding up the blade with Axel’s blood on it. The sick fuck drags it across his own tongue, before he spits the blood in my direction and turns, dashing out the exit a few yards behind him.
I glance back at Axel once more, before I give chase. He’s in Viking’s arms now, being carried out of the ring. He’s awake, holding one hand over his stab wound, the other hand has a cellphone pressed to his ear… I’m sure they’re calling Viper or Diesel for a cage to get him to the hospital… He’s in good hands. I barely hear Viking shout after me as I shove people aside, fighting my way towards the exit the junkie escaped through.
I make it outside in time to see the fucker take off on a purple Suzuki, and I sprint to my bike. Jumping on her, I fire her up, twisting her throttle and taking off out of the dirt lot, barreling down the street in the direction the junkie took off.
I know there’s a slim chance I’m gonna catch up to him. If I had Serene, it would be a different story. I curse myself for not taking her tonight. I’ve been over protective about her, too. Unwilling to chance leaving her in a shady parking lot.
The distinct high-pitched sound of his bike’s engine echoes off the buildings down town, somewhere close, and I wonder for a moment, how it’s possible he didn’t get further.
I catch a glimpse of his tail lights in the darkness down a side street as I whiz by, taking the next turn to run parallel with him and head him off at the end of the street. He’s leaving city limits, looking to make his way towards the highway that will lead him back out to the sticks.
That works for me. Open road. Nothing but structureless fields of farmland separated by patches of woodland acres. Far less witnesses to worry about. I ease back on the throttle and allow him to head me off.
I chase him to the highway, watching as he glances over his shoulder at me, before he accelerates his speed again. So do I… But I know that purple Suzuki he’s on can blow my old Harley away. Betty is built for comfort. She’s fast, but not as fast as his street bike.
At the last minute, the prick makes a hard right off the exit and I follow, passing a black van on the right parked on the shoulder. We both run the red light, speeding onto the service road. The prick still isn’t going as fast as he could be. For a moment, I wonder if there’s something wrong with his bike, but the engine sounds fine. Is he afraid to go faster? Is he fucking high and only thinks he is?
Something ain’t right here… The way he waited for me to see him lick that fucking blade, goading me… The way he’s not taking full advantage of the speed that bike is capable of…
