4: Tyler (1/2)

4. Tyler

My nerves have been on edge since I saw that girl from school at the entrance to the bar. She recognized me and that's the worst thing that could have possibly ended up happening.

I sigh and wrap up my knuckles, bouncing up and down on the tips of my toes and moving my neck from side to side to relieve the tension. I can hear people outside of the small prep room. The pressure of a new fight weighs down on me, but I push it aside, using it as momentum.

The door opens and I look up, nodding at Ethan as he walks in and sits down in the corner.

”Carl's not happy,” he says.

I nod again. ”No, he's not.”

”Did he say anything to you?” Ethan asks.

I shake my head, resting my feet flat on the ground. ”No,” I say. ”He's said nothing. Almost like he doesn't even know.”

Ethan blows out a breath. ”Except he does.”

”I know,” I snap, turning around to face him. His face is stern. ”I know. There's nothing I can do about it, Ethan. What's the point in constantly going over it? Carl knows I want to quit and he probably hates me for it. There, the end. Done.”

Ethan opens his mouth to answer but another voice cuts in. ”Now, I wouldn't exactly say I hate you.”

My body tenses. Carl stands in the open doorway, leaning against the frame. He's a small guy, not very muscular or tall. He's not lethal in his body power but instead his powers are more psychological than physical.

”You're one of my best guys,” Carl says. ”I can't hate you. Be angry at you, yes. Want to hit you, yes. Want to kill you . . . yes.” I swallow, and Carl wipes his forehead. ”But I don't hate you.”

”Well, I'm here now,” I say.

”And for how long is that?” Carl asks, his eyes glowing with sadistic humor. ”Is that until one day you decide it's time and no longer show up to your fight?”

”I didn't realize I was under a contract,” I say with hostility.

”No,” Carl says, ”you're right. You're not under any contract or obligation or oath. But that doesn't mean that you can just get up and walk away.”

”Why not?” I ask tightly.

Carl sighs and steps forward, letting the door shut lightly behind him. He stops directly in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest. He leans in close to my ear. ”Because you make me money. People don't give a shit about one big guy hitting another anymore. One big buy being beaten to a pulp by a smaller kid . . . now that's entertainment. You're bringing in the big bucks, kid. And if you fuck this up for me by trying to get out . . . ” Carl places a cold hand on my bare shoulder. ”I'll ruin you.”