Fix You: Bash and Olivia, Book 2 of 3 (McDaniels Brothers) by Christine Bell

wore a dapper gray suit that was totally out of place for the gritty, industrial environment and even more so for the brutal entertainment scheduled for the night.
    “Sure thing, kid. Boys?” He motioned for them to go, but one—the biggest one—didn’t move. “Pete stays with me. You understand, given the situation, I can’t be too careful.”
    Right. Because that was the big plan. When those guys closed the door, I was going to jump over the desk and kill their boss with my bare hands, then miraculously walk out of the room without being gunned down and taking enough lead to look like a slice of swiss cheese.
    What did he think this was, a Vin Diesel movie? But I nodded. “Sure. Of course.”
    He motioned for me to sit, but I stayed on my feet. This would be a very short conversation. No point in getting comfortable.
    “I want to fight tonight.”
    He steepled his fingers together and rocked back on his chair, unable to hide his satisfaction. Satisfaction that was immediately replaced with excitement. His eyes went even brighter as he leaned forward and put his elbows on the scarred desktop.
    “Tonight? Here?”
    I folded my arms over my chest and held his gaze. “Yep.”
    “You realize this isn’t boxing, don’t you, kid? This is bare-knuckle, balls-out street fighting. There’s no throwing in the towel unless you’re knocked out or half-dead. No rules.”
    He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, and I nodded.
    “Right.”
    “What makes you think you have what it takes to give my audience a good show? Because that’s what this is about, Bash. The betting is what’s important to me . That’s my business. But the fans?” He shrugged and shook his head. “Ninety percent of them don’t give a shit about the money. It’s what they would’ve spent on booze and blow for the night. They want to see a show. They don’t want to see two guys prancing around the ring. They want to see blood.”
    I didn’t hesitate. “I spent half my life in the ring and the other half on the street fighting. I got the goods.”
    He nodded slowly. “And I’m guessing you want to post the purse for this fight against your brother’s debt?”
    The word debt made my jaw clench, because we all knew full well this wasn’t a real debt. This was a flat-out shakedown, pure and simple. Part of me even wondered if this hadn’t been in the back of Mickey’s mind all along. To get us under his thumb so one of us would come to his little underground fight club and climb into the ring.
    But I couldn’t think about that right now. I had to play the game.
    “That’s the plan,” I said with a grim nod.
    “The main event usually pays two grand to the loser, eight to the winner, but that’s for guys who have a long-standing track record here at the club. Guys who have worked their way up and earned the slot.”
    His eyes went crafty and I knew he was about to bend me over a barrel. I steeled myself for penetration.
    “I’m sure your name will generate some interest, but without a chance to promote it, I’m not sure how much it’s going to affect my bottom line. Here’s what I can do. I can guarantee you twenty-five hundred, even if you lose. Over and above that, we’ll play it by ear. If you win, I’ll add another twenty-five hundred, minimum. If my numbers look good and the crowd likes you? I’ll see about the rest.”
    I pretended to consider his offer long and hard but we both knew I had no choice.
    “If that’s the best you can do, I guess I’ll take it.”
    He bared his teeth in a shark’s grin and banged the desk with his palm.
    “Excellent.” He turned to his muscle. “Pete, tell the girls in the betting cage to pull Leo Stewart from the feature fight and add Bash’s name to the card. Tell Leo I’ll pay him five hundred cash for his trouble and he can have the same spot next week. If he bitches, tell him to fuck off.”
    I said a quick, silent apology to whoever Leo Stewart was for getting