Dario

 

 

I walked into Wicked in a great mood. Rai was out of the woods, Chanel was back where she belonged, and life was just what it was meant to be. And now my day was about to get even better, and very interesting. I couldn’t wait. In fact, I think I might’ve slept all of an hour, awaiting this moment. It might’ve been a rush greater than the one I got during my first fight. If it wasn’t, it felt like a close second.

“Hey!”

“Hey is for horses, man!” I kidded.

“Wow. So, I guess corny is the new you, huh?” Quinton said sarcastically, as he approached.

“I don’t have a corny bone in my body.”

“Bullshit. Only the corny stand their boys up the way you did. Had my ass waiting for your call like some woman, and shit!”

“Right . . . like you waited!” I laughed. “I’m sure you had a million and one backup plans.”

Quinton grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“See! I know you all too well.”

“But all jokes aside, though. I’m sorry to hear about what happened. That was some fucked up shit. I’m damn happy that little man is good, though.”

“Yeah, that was scary as hell, man. But he’s good. He’s really good.”

“And his mom?” Quinton smiled.

“She’s good too.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet.”

“So, anyway . . .” I said, changing the subject. “When can I expect your friend? You know I wanted to give special treatment today. I made a lot of arrangements to make this a success.”

Quinton gave me one of those sly grins of his, then looked past me and toward the entrance. “Speak of the devil. There he is now,” he responded, looking over my shoulder.

I watched as Quinton approached the guy and conversed with him for a few minutes. Now, it was my turn to smile. As they made their way back to where I stood on the other side of the gym, I turned around.

“What’s up, Tyler?” I greeted.

“Awww, so that’s what we’re doin’ now, Q?”

Quinton’s shoulders rose then fell in a nonchalant hunch. “Doin’ what?” he asked, releasing a laugh that exposed more than half his teeth. “I just said that my boy invited you to work out at his new gym. That’s what you’re here for.”

“Yeah that, and a nice talk between men,” I supplemented.

Tyler stood there, looking at me with the smuggest of looks on his face and I wanted to bash his shit in right then and there.

“Talk about what?” he asked with attitude.

“Oh, just about how kids and women are off limits—particularly, the ones in my life.” I turned to Quinton. “Q . . . you can go ahead and take off, man. I appreciate your help.”

“Yeah, Q . . .” Tyler smirked. “Go ahead and take off, man.”

Quinton laughed some more, gave me a bro shake, ran upstairs and back down with a bottle of water, and then left Wicked.

“So, clearly, you know I’m not here for the pleasantries. I’m here to do this shit one-on-one and man to man.”

“Far as I’m concerned we don’t have business, my dude. This shit you did to get me here was unnecessary. You could’ve come to me.”

“Nah, see you’re wrong, we do have business. A whole lot of fucking business and I’m not gonna beat around any bushes to get to that business. Truth of the matter is you’re a bitch-ass who fucked with my family and I don’t take kindly to that shit.”

“Ha! Your family? Let me guess, you’re talking about Chanel. If it’s her, that’s done.”

“I’m talking about Rai. And as far as Chanel it’s done because it wasn’t ever shit to begin with. You’re a sack of shit and I knew that when I—”

Before I could get my words out, Tyler swung. Although I dodged his fist in time, it still pissed me off that he was willing to take the bitch way out and sucker-punch me.

“Fuck the talkin’, boxer boy! We gon’ do this shit, let’s go!” he yelled while squaring up.

He was talking my language. I was ready. The only thing that I had been waiting for was the fight to start fair and square so there wouldn’t be any chances for him to say that it was otherwise.

We took off in a battle. Tyler threw his left leg out trying to connect with my rib. I caught it midway and then lunged my right fist into his chest, temporarily knocking the wind out of him, before taking him down to his back within seconds. He swung furiously to try to get the advantage, to no avail. I leapt backwards off of him to allow him up, because truthfully, I wanted the full fight. I wanted him to feel the full wrath that his actions brought about, and laying him out so early wouldn’t give me that satisfaction.

“Get the fuck up, punk!” I taunted.

And as soon as he was off the ground, and had shaken himself off, I commenced to raining blow after blow on him—his jaw, his nose, his chest, his ribs. It was a street fight and I didn’t need to adhere to the rules of the ring. That was why I wanted him to come to me, and it worked perfectly.

He was focused and tried his best, but my short time with him told me that he spent far too much time on the field and not enough time backing up his ‘big man on campus’ persona.

“You swing like a bitch, you fake-ass tight end!”

The wind against my fists as they made contact with his flesh was invigorating. This fucker, Tyler had taken four months of all of our lives that we couldn’t get back. He needed to realize the error of his ways.

When blood began to splatter from Tyler’s mouth, it fueled me at a level I didn’t even think was possible. I wanted to see more, so I went in for the kill. I wanted this motherfucker to be unrecognizable. He’d almost taken Rai’s life and he had fucked with Chanel’s life by trying to force her into some bullshit-ass relationship. Yeah, I wanted his blood on my hands and that’s what I was going for, until I heard Quinton yelling out to me in my fury.

“DC! DC!” I heard him saying, while wrapping his arm around my neck in an effort to pull me back. “Dario! Come on, man! It’s done!”