Текст книги "Surge "

Автор книги: Sloan Storm

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That was one half of me.

The other half wanted to strangle and slap him with every ounce of strength I could muster.

After everything we’d said to each other, for him to turn around and do something like this! I didn’t know what to make of it, but it hurt me, more than I probably even realized in the moment.

“Good to see you are still with us,” Marco said.

Dyson glanced at his teammate, “You’re not going to get rid of me that easy.”

The two men chuckled for a second or two and then Dyson looked at me. “Hey. You okay?”

Still muddled in my thoughts, I nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I’m just glad you’re in one piece.”

“Dyson,” his father began. “Have you gotten any updates from the doctor?”

Dyson spent the next minute or so explaining they wanted to hold him overnight for observation. However, if everything went well, they would release him sometime the following afternoon.

“Are you cleared to drive?” Marco asked.

“If they release me, you can bet your ass I’ll be driving. Where did I finish on the grid?”

I shook my head as he talked to Marco. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Was he actually planning on racing? Marco went on to explain that they’d closed the track for a while after his crash, but the cars had started running again. Even so no one was faster than Dyson, not even Gunter.

Dyson dropped his head into the pillow, smiling in silence.

“You’re not really going to drive are you?” I asked.

Dyson rolled his head on the pillow and looked up at me. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, for starters, even if they clear you to leave the hospital, you’ve still got symptoms of a concussion. Those can take days, weeks or even months to fully present themselves.”

Dyson waved me off. Just then, the door to his room opened, and Darren appeared.

“I appreciate what you’re saying,” Dyson began, not breaking his gaze on me. “But if they cut me loose, I’m racing. Nothing is going to prevent it.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” Darren said, walking inside the room and heading towards all of us.

Dyson shook his head and exhaled. “Don’t start, Darren. Really, I don’t even want to see you right now.”

Marco positioned himself between Dyson and Darren, extending one arm in Darren’s direction.

“Hey guys, not right now. Save it for the track.”

Darren glared at Marco but stopped walking.

“What did I tell you, Dyson?” Darren began, pointing at his driver. “I warned you about pushing it, and now look. Look at what you’ve done.”

Dyson pointed right back at him. “What you talking about? All I did was qualify in first place. That’s what I’m paid to do. Win. But, you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”

“Watch it.” Darren snarled. “I’ve got the authority to suspend you, and you know it.”

“So go ahead and do it already, Darren!” Dyson exclaimed. “You keep threatening me with it, but you’re the same way as a manager that you were as a racer… no balls.”

Marco snapped his head in Dyson’s direction. “Hey Dyson, that’s enough.”

Darren looked at Dyson and shook his head. “Last warning. The next time you do anything like this, you’re off the team.”

With that, Darren turned and stormed out of Dyson’s hospital room. The door hissed closed behind him. Once it did, we all glanced at one another in silence.

AVA

As Dyson hoped, the doctors released him from the hospital and cleared him to drive. However, prior to his dismissal, Dr. Miller shared the results of Dyson’s concussion symptoms with me.

We agreed I would monitor him for any change over the next several days. He was clear about his concern Dyson be forced to abandon the race if any of the symptoms began to worsen. The morning of the race, Dyson’s family joined us in the team garage while the mechanics made last-minute adjustments to the car. After a bit of small talk, Dyson’s father brought up the subject of Darren and the fight they had in the hospital.

Dyson shrugged. “We worked it out. Everything is okay for now. We’ve agreed to just focus on the race.”

I frowned. Considering the way they’d been at each other’s throats, over the past week or so especially, the revelation caught me by surprise.

“So does that mean that you’re going to change the way you drive?” I asked.

Dyson stopped, turning to look at me before he replied. “What do you think?”

We all exchanged a series of uneasy glances with each other.

“What?” Dyson asked. He crossed his arms. “Look, I know you’re all worried, but I’m telling you, I’ve got it under control. What happened the other day was a fluke. There’s only one way to win out here, and I know better than anyone what that is.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight with you, Dyson.” I said.

He nodded. “That’s good, because that’s not something I need right now. The crash is a thing of the past. I’ve got a short memory.”

I decided to drop the subject and instead proceeded to check and make sure he wasn’t having any issues related to his concussion.

“Well,” I began, finishing up my brief examination a few minutes later. “You look to be okay right now. But remember, this type of injury can be tricky. If you have any problems at all, you’re going to have to come out of the race. It’s just too dangerous otherwise. Do you understand?”

“Yep,” he said, zipping up his fire suit. “I hear you loud and clear.”

Right around that time, Dyson’s family entered the garage and made their way towards us. We spent the next several minutes making small talk and wishing Dyson good luck. Afterward, his family made their way to the stands. Because of Dyson’s situation, Dieter and Darren insisted I remain with the team in the pits, in case something happened with him.

Within a couple of hours, the race was well underway. Although Gunter held the lead for most of the early laps, Dyson and Marco were right with him. However, after Dyson’s second pit stop, I happened to notice Darren once again showed frustration in the observation tower.

Over the next twenty minutes or so, Dyson began to fall further and further back, losing touch with the race leaders. Before long, he was outside of the top ten, then the top fifteen. By the time he’d dropped out of the top twenty, Darren was in a near rage.

He turned, and scanned the pits until our eyes met.

He motioned for me to approach the observation tower. I made my way to it, and after I climbed up, Darren gestured for me to lift my ear protection.

“Do you see what’s happening out there?” he yelled.

I nodded and yelled back at him, barely able to talk over the sound of the cars roaring past. “Yes. What’s wrong with him?”

“Dyson told me he’s having double vision and feeling disoriented.”

My stomach sank with those words.

There was little question the concussion was the underlying factor. My guess was that it wasn’t an issue until he was in a racing situation, where the stress was much higher.

Realizing instantly what needed to be done, I shook my head and leaned in towards Darren. “He needs to abandon! And he needs to do it right away!”

Visibly upset, Darren nodded his head in agreement. He turned away from me to give Dyson the news. I slipped the cup of the headphone back over the top of my ear. While I watched Darren talk over race radio, I noticed he began to shake his head back and forth, gesturing with his hands as well. Within a matter of seconds, he turned around towards me.

Darren made a motion with his hand for me to lift the headphones again. After I did, he leaned in to my ear.

“Dyson said he’s fine and that he’s not coming in!”

I shook my head, furious he’d disobeyed my order. After all, we’d agreed on it, and this was not a situation to take a chance on.

“You need to get him off the track, Darren!” I yelled.

I edged closer to Darren, trying to listen in to the conversation as best I could through the muted muffle of the headphones.

“Dyson, what the hell are you doing?” Darren exclaimed. “You know the deal with the doctors. Get out of there now!”

Darren went silent for a moment. The only sound I detected was the high-pitched whine of the engines roaring by in the background.

At last, he spoke again.

“No, you aren’t fine! Dyson… You’re not listening to me. Your judgment is impaired. You need to abandon the race!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Dyson was deliberately going back on his word, on what he’d promised me he’d do.

“Dyson, forget about Gunter and the points! If you don’t get off the track now, you could crash. Is that what you want?”

Chewing my lip, I crossed my arms at my chest.

“Dyson,” Darren began, waiting for him to respond. “Dyson… Dyson!”

Darren looked up for a few seconds before turning to face me. Dyson had turned off the radio. I didn’t even hear the background noise of the engines any longer.

I didn’t hear anything.

Darren shook his head.

Just then, a sickening groan rippled through the crowd. Instantly, we looked at one another and then turned our attention to the Jumbotron. There, at the far end of the track, was Dyson’s car, against the wall and billowing a horrific cloud of smoke and flame.

“Dyson!” I screamed, covering my mouth. “Oh my God! Dyson!”

DYSON

Two hours after the crash I was back in my motor coach.

I guess I had to consider myself lucky.

Again.

I had no idea where things stood with Darren and me. For now though, I had to talk to Ava, and I didn’t want to waste any time. In the aftermath of the accident, I refused all visitors. I just wanted to be alone with my thoughts for a few minutes. I’d already hammered back a couple of beers before Ava showed up.

In fact, I was in the midst of my third when there was a knock on the door.

Still aching, I eased myself into a standing position. A few seconds later I approached the door.

The knock came again before I could.

“Hang on!” I groaned. “Jesus!”

I wrapped my fingers around the handle, twisted it, and pushed it open. Ava stood there looking up at me, her face filled with concern. Behind her, the media surrounded her like a pack of wolves, snapping pictures and calling out my name. I stepped away from the open doorway and motioned for her to enter. Turning around, I began to walk back in the direction of the couch.

“Close the door behind you and lock it,” I said.

After I sat down, Ava did as I asked and a few seconds later she stood right in front of me.

“Oh my God, Dyson.” she began, stepping a bit closer to me. “I’ve been worried sick. Are you injured?”

I shook my head and straightened my arm towards her, showing her my palm. “Don’t come any closer.”

Ava leaned away from me. She frowned and glanced in the direction of the empty beer bottles.

“What’s wrong, Dyson?”

Nodding my head, I gestured for her to sit next to me. “Don’t worry about it. We need to talk.”

Ava sat. Crossing her legs at the knee, she leaned in and attempted to touch my forehead.

I jerked away from her.

“Don’t touch me.”

She furrowed her brow and shook her head. “What is going on right now? I’m only making sure you’re all right.”

“I’m fine.” I replied, reaching for the half-empty third bottle of beer. I lifted it to my mouth, tilting it upwards and slugging back a couple of gulps.

She studied me while I drank. “Dyson…”

I waved her off.

Before she had a chance to say anything, I spoke, “I don’t want to waste any time here. I know it was you that ordered me off the track today.”

She leaned away from me. “Yeah, that’s right. Judging by the outcome, it’s pretty obvious it was the correct thing to do.”

I licked my lips, the bitter taste of beer on my tongue matched my dark mood. “No, the reason that I crashed was because Darren distracted me with all of that fucking discussion you were behind.”

Ava’s expression never changed. “Dyson, you know that’s not true. I’m not going to argue with you, but I have no doubt in my mind I did the right thing. I’m sorry, I don’t agree.”

I looked away from her, standing up. A rush of lightheadedness overwhelmed me. I felt like I might pass out. Ava noticed and jumped to her feet, grabbing me by the arm.

“Dyson, please be careful! If you fall and hit your head again, it could be…”

I yanked my arm free of her grip. “I’m fine.”

I turned and looked at her, noticing the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “Don’t start that. What is it with all of you people? Between you, Darren, that shitty excuse for a car setup today… It’s like none of you want me to fucking win.”

I looked away from her, raising the bottle to my lips and slamming back the remainder of the beer. I threw the empty bottle across the room.

It smashed against the wall and shattered. “Christ!”

Ava remained silent.

I snapped my head in her direction. Her calmness irked me. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

“What you want me to say, Dyson?” she began. “I did the right thing. What was I supposed to do? I don’t feel bad about it, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

I shook my head and walked towards the refrigerator to get another beer.

In my peripheral vision I noticed Ava stand from the couch.

“I’m don’t have to stay here and take a bunch of crap from you, Dyson. When you’re ready to discuss this calmly, I’m available.”

Reaching inside the refrigerator, I pulled out another bottle and cracked it open. “Don’t hold your breath.”

The hurt look Ava had on her face earlier vanished.

Replacing it, a look of indifference. But at this point, I didn’t care. The only thing I wanted was to be left alone. Without saying a word, Ava walked out of the motor coach, slamming the door behind her.

For the next few minutes, I walked back and forth, covering the length of it.

Taking large gulps of my beer, I tried to figure out what the problem was. I didn’t really feel dizzy out there. Maybe a little lightheaded, but nothing that should’ve caused me the kinds of problems I had. I stopped for a moment and looked out the window at the reporters still hanging around.

Fucking vultures.

Sooner or later I’d have to deal with all their ridiculous questions. I’d seen it before when guys get on a bad run. They always want to say you’ve lost your edge, your nerve. I took another gulp of my beer. People like that, out there, they had no idea what pressure was all about. The first one of them that accused me of losing it was going to be the last one.

This wasn’t anything I couldn’t shake off. I took one final swig of my beer and placed a bottle down on the counter. Releasing it, I glanced down at my hand and noticed something I’d never seen before.

It shook.

AVA

It was just past seven o’clock in the morning, the day after the race in Los Angeles and my fight with Dyson.

I woke up from a sound sleep to the annoying sound of my cell phone ringing and vibrating on the nightstand next to me. Eyes closed, I groped for it, at last picking it up and looking at it.

Dieter.

I sat up in bed, switching on the table lamp in my hotel room before swiping the screen and answering the call.

“Good morning, Ava,” Dieter began with his thick accent. “I do hope that I didn’t wake you.”

I shook my head, lying, “No, it’s fine. What do you need, Dieter?”

“Ava, I should mention that I have Darren here in the room with me.”

This can’t be good.

I blinked my eyes several times in a row, wiping them in an effort to focus my attention. “Okay, is there something that the both of you need from me?”

“Yes, Ava,” Dieter began, pausing for a moment. “I’m going to put you on speakerphone. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes, of course, it’s fine.”

“Darren,” Dieter began, changing the tone of the conversation. “I think it’s best if you start this discussion, since you were trackside with Ava yesterday.”

Over the next few minutes, Darren, encouraged by Dieter while he spoke, expressed serious doubts about whether or not Dyson was ready to race again. I didn’t disagree with any of their conclusions. They wanted Dyson to get treatment before allowing him to continue to race for the team. Once again, I had no problem with their idea.

“Terrific, then we can count on seeing you later.” Dieter said.

“Later?”

“Yes now that we’ve had a chance to talk about this amongst ourselves, we will need to have a meeting with Dyson, as well. Of course, as the head medical professional for the team, we’re expecting you to attend and offer your expertise.”

I swallowed hard, remaining silent for a few moments.

“I see,” I said, at last.

Things were already tense between Dyson and me. I felt as if I’d made my opinion more than clear with him. The last thing I wanted was another confrontation. Dieter took notice of my silence and spoke up once more.

“Ava, you and I have a good working relationship. I think you know me well enough to know my only concern is the safety of my drivers.”

I nodded, running my hand through my hair while I listened. “Yes, I know that.”

“Very good. The most important thing you can do in this situation, Ava, is just to be honest. There are many livelihoods at stake in this scenario, not just Dyson’s. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”

“Yes, I do.”

He told me he would contact Dyson immediately after and would like to meet with both of us later that same morning, eleven o’clock at the team garage. I told him that wouldn’t be a problem and hung up moments later. Still sitting upright in the bed, I leaned back, pressing my head into the headboard. Even though I knew it had to be done, I had little doubt an angry Dyson Vix would make an appearance.

And so it was a few minutes before eleven I stood outside the entrance to the team garage. I’d only been there for a few minutes when the door cracked open, and Darren poked his head out.

“Ava, Dieter asked if you’d like to come inside and wait.”

I shook my head. “No, thank you, I actually have a few personal phone calls I can make while I’m waiting for Dyson to show up.”

Darren smiled at me. “Suit yourself.”

He closed the door immediately after.

Just when I was about to reach in my purse and grab my phone, I glanced up and noticed Dyson walking in my direction.

And by walking, I mean weaving.

“Oh shit,” I muttered.

Letting go of my phone, I dropped it inside of my purse and pulled the strap up over my shoulder. Seconds later, Dyson drew close to me.

He smelled like a distillery.

“Really?”

Dyson swayed a bit. “What?”

I shook my head. “How much have you had to drink this morning?”

“All of it.”

I reached up and ran my fingers through my hair. “You are in real trouble with them, Dyson. Don’t you understand that?”

Dyson licked his lips and motioned for me to step aside. “Let’s get this over with.”

A few minutes later, the meeting got off to a predictably rocky start.

Dyson, drunk, was about as rude and obnoxious as I’d ever seen him. For their part, Dieter and Darren did their best to discuss things in a calm way, but Dyson’s behavior wore thin.

“Here’s the thing, Dyson,” Dieter said, leaning forward in his chair and glaring at his star driver. “It’s pretty obvious you’re not in any condition to race. Everyone, from the doctors at the hospital to Ava, have been adamant about that.”

Dyson shook his head. “Doctors don’t know anything. What the hell do they know about driving, about winning? Nothing, that’s what.”

Dieter leaned away, shrugging off Dyson’s comment. “I understand you are frustrated, Dyson. I know you’re a competitor and a winner. That’s why this is all the more difficult for me to have to do.”

“What the hell you talking about, Dieter?” Dyson growled. “Are you kicking me off the team?”

Dieter shook his head. “No, Dyson, I’m not kicking you off the team. Not yet, anyway. But I’m not going to let you drive–not until you’re better.”

Dyson reached up and swiped his hand down the length of his face before pointing at Darren. “Fuck you!”

With that, Dyson stood from his chair and yanked it with his hand. It rattled across the room, banging against the wall. The three of us sat there in silence, and before I realized it, Dyson stormed out.

In the aftermath of Dyson’s exit, we looked at each other for a moment until at last, Dieter spoke.

“Ava, I’m going to make this very simple for you,” he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “You… You seem to have a connection with Dyson, a way with him. If there’s anyone that can get him straight, it’s you.”

I shook my head. “Dieter, I don’t think anyone has a way with Dyson Vix.”

“That may very well be the case, but it’s obvious that neither Darren nor I can get through to him. I want to give him one last chance. But if you are not able to talk some sense into him, he’s gone.”

AVA

After the disastrous meeting with Dieter and Darren, I told them I would do what I could to help, but that I couldn’t make any promises. He’d been stubborn about getting treatment for his concussive symptoms. I didn’t expect that to change much.

Unfortunately, frustrations were already high, and with all of the pressure of the season bearing down on the team, I wasn’t sure how much worse things could get. After I left, I paused outside of the team garage and pulled my cell phone out of my purse.

Swiping it on, I called Jillian.

I’d been so tired in the aftermath of Dyson’s crash the day before, I’d fallen asleep and forgotten to call home. After the second ring, Jillian answered.

“Hey,” she began. “I was wondering what happened to you. It’s not like you to miss a call. Is everything okay?”

Leaning against the wall of the garage, I shook my head.

“No, not even close.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked.

I exhaled and closed my eyes.

“How much time do you have?” I said, chuckling at everything that happened since the last time we’d talked.

“I’ve got all the time you need, Ava.”

Feeling a bit guilty while I did it, I dumped on Jillian over the next few minutes, telling her everything. I mentioned the fight I had with Dyson in his motor coach immediately after the race, Jillian got angry.

“I can’t believe he’s treating you like that,” she groaned. “He seemed like such a good guy when I met him.”

“He is a good guy, Jillian. There’s just a lot of pressure on everyone right now.”

She exhaled into the receiver. “Yeah, I get it, but I would think after two serious crashes in a row he would at least listen to the people around him. People like you, who want to help.”

“I understand,” I began. “I can’t say I disagree with you, but that’s who he is. I really don’t think he’s trying to be cruel to me. Dyson only knows one way of doing things. He’s got his foot on the accelerator in more ways than one.”

“Um, okay, I guess,” Jillian muttered. “If you say so.”

I eased myself off the wall and began to walk away from the team garage.

“I don’t know how to explain it to you, Jillian,” I said, repositioning the strap of my purse over my shoulder. “These guys out here, they’re just different.”

Jillian remained silent for a few seconds. “Well, long as you’re okay, that’s all I care about.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

While I walked, I heard the sound of the television on in the background through the receiver.

“Is Simon watching TV?”

“No, I am. I was watching it when you called. He’s in his room playing games on his tablet. You want me to get him?”

Around that time, Dyson’s motor coach came into view. I’d be there in less than a minute, not enough time to talk to Simon.

“No. I’ll call back later. Right now I’ve got some stuff I’ve got to handle.”

“Are you sure you’re okay, Ava?”

“Positive. I’ll call you guys as soon as I get a chance.”

Not long after, I hung up and reached the door to Dyson’s motor coach. Before I knocked, I took a deep breath. The warm, late afternoon California sun and a steady breeze eased my frazzled state, but just a little. Moments later, I reached up and rapped against the door.

I knocked once.

Then a second time.

And even a third.

At several minutes, the door knob to the bus twisted and I raised my eyes upwards. There, in the doorway were the last people I expected to see. To my disbelief, Anastasia and Svetlana stood there, scowling at me.

“Why you here?” Anastasia said, snapping her hand to her hip.

Svetlana stepped a bit closer to me. “Dyson no want to see you.”

I narrowed my eyes at them and pointed.

“If he’s in there, I need to talk to him right away. I really don’t care why you’re here or what you’re doing. This is team business and doesn’t concern you.”

Although I tried to remain stone faced as I issued my threat, I felt sick. I hadn’t seen them around Dyson in weeks. Naïvely, I thought he’d moved on from them. But whether he had or not, I had no intention of letting either of them see me get emotional.

“Did you hear what I said?” I began, raising the volume of my voice. “Go get him now, or I’m coming in to do it myself.”

The girls glanced at one another for a moment. Svetlana turned and walked away without saying a word. Anastasia remained, looking down at her fingernails and flicking them.

“I’m counting to three, Anastasia. There won’t be a four.”

She scoffed at me. “Dyson no here.”

I frowned at her. “Where is he?”

“Out.”

I exhaled and closed my eyes, pinching my lids together in frustration. “Cut the shit. Tell me where he is right now.”

She still refused to make eye contact with me. After hesitating another second or two, Anastasia waved at me with a dismissive flick of her hand.

“Try bar.”

I could only assume she meant the bar where Dyson took care of Gene not long ago. I asked her about it, but whether she was just being difficult or she didn’t know, Anastasia wouldn’t give me a straight answer.

Frustrated, I turned away from her.

“If Dyson comes back, have him call me. It’s really important because…”

The door to the motor coach slammed shut before I could finish my sentence. Shaking my head at their stupid behavior, I thought back to the insult the Grid Girls hurled at me in Miami.

I turned towards the motor coach again.

“Cunts!”

DYSON

“So what the hell is going on with you, man?” Marco said.

I was in the middle of drinking my beer when he asked me the question. The carbonation caused me to burp.

“Hmm?” I grumbled, turning to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you wanted me to meet you here. I assume it’s because of the meeting you had with Dieter and Darren this morning.”

“How did you hear about that?”

Marco looked away from me. He fixed his gaze on a group of men playing pool about ten feet away from us, which happened to include Gunter and his stupid entourage of butt kissers.

I nudged Marco and spoke.

“Hey bro, I asked you a question. How did you hear about that meeting?”

Marco picked up his beer and took a healthy swig. He turned in my direction, frowning.

“How would I not hear about it, Dyson? We’re teammates.”

I shook my head, looking away from him and towards my beer. Lifting it to my mouth, I gestured in Gunter’s direction before I drank.

“Look at that idiot. I’m ten times the driver he is, and everyone knows it.”

Marco scoffed at me.

I placed my drink down on the bar. “You got something you want to say, Marco?”

He swallowed a gulp and looked in my direction. Running his tongue along his teeth with his mouth closed, he nodded.

“Yeah, actually Dyson, I do.”

I narrowed my eyes at him but didn’t speak.

Marco pointed in Gunter’s direction. “Do you want to know why he wins so much?”

“Sure, man. Tell me. I’m all ears.”

Marco wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“It’s real simple. The reason Gunter wins is because he has everything working like a well-oiled machine. No one questions your talent, Dyson. But winning at this level is not all about talent. You have to work hard, and you have to have a plan.”

I looked away from him, staring at Gunter once again.

“Man, that’s bullshit, I’m a hard worker, and you know it.”

Marco remained silent for a second before he slapped me on the back.

“I’m not saying you don’t work hard. What I’m saying is that as teammates, you and I shouldn’t be looking to blame Gunter for our failures. Instead, we should be trying to dissect what that team does well and apply it to what we’re doing, so we can beat them on a consistent basis.”

Part of what Marco said made sense. But, the truth was I’d been drinking most of the day, so I only half-listened. And right then I was in no mood to talk strategy. No sooner had Marco finished speaking than Gunter turned and looked at me.

“Do you have a problem, Dyson?” Gunter said, slapping his pool stick in the palm of his hand.

I stared at him without saying a word. Picking up my beer, I took a drink.

“Easy, Dyson,” Marco began, gesturing towards Gunter’s friends. “Don’t start anything in here. We’re outnumbered.”

Ignoring Marco, I raised my hand in Gunter’s direction and gave him the universal sign for go fuck yourself.

“Shit, man…” Marco said, slamming down the rest of his beer with two huge gulps.

Gunter headed straight towards us, his flunkies bringing up the rear. Like Marco, I pounded my drink. The bartender, noticing Gunter’s approach, spread his arms wide.

“Take it outside, guys.”

Ignoring him, I stood from my stool. Seconds later, Gunter closed on me, winding up in my face. Whether Marco was ready for it or not, this fight had been brewing between us for months.

Sometimes, you just have to settle things the old-fashioned way.

“You’ll never beat me, Dyson,” Gunter began, rolling up his sleeves. “It doesn’t matter whether it’s on the track or in here, right now. I’m better than you in every way. It’s about time you learned that once and for all.”

While he rambled, I took off my shirt.

“Dyson,” Marco began, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “It’s ten versus two. There’s no way.”

I nodded at him and then turn towards Gunter.

“Just us, right? You promise you’ll keep your boys out of it?”

“Absolutely,” Gunter replied.

Before either Marco or I said another word, Gunter turned around towards all of them and muttered something in whatever language it was he spoke. Afterward, he looked at me again.

A crooked smile came to his mouth.

“Let’s do this,” I said, raising my fists in front of my face.

“Jesus,” I heard Marco mutter from behind me.

“What did I say?” The bartender began, increasing the volume of his voice. “Take. It. Outside.”

I turned to say something to him. But, before I uttered a single word, the unmistakable feel of bone against flesh invaded my awareness. Gunter took a cheap shot and coldcocked me. I staggered back, reaching up towards the site of the strike. My eyes watered and I blinked, trying to regain my focus on him. Before I could completely reorient myself, Gunter lowered his head and dove for my midsection.