Bloody Noses & Crack'd Crowns

Chapter 5

I DO NOT OWN THIS STORY. All credit goes to TheWeaverofWorlds on ao3.

The next fight night was that Friday, and this time Mike and Bill were scheduled to fight. Bill didn't like the idea of fighting in the cage, there was something about the chain link fence that was worse than the back alleys in Chicago, or the swimming pool in Las Vegas, or the boxing ring of a closed gym in the Bronx. There had been some decency there, and while Bill was fighting for other men to bet on, he was still human. In the cage he was nothing but an animal.

The drive out to the Bowers' farm was tense. Eddie grasped his inhaler tightly to his chest, his breath already uneven. Since getting into the car Georgie had not let go of Bill's hand. He didn't know the next time he would be able to hold his brother's hand after tonight, and he wanted to give his brother as much comfort as possible. Mike was staring out the window. His body showed no fear or anxiety. The perfect image of the calm before a storm.

"I want you to throw your fights."

Mike and Bill's attention snapped to Robert.

"What?" Mike asked, his body already bunching up as if ready to spring forward.

"Consider it common courtesy. A way to thank our hosts for inviting us."

"Are we g-going to have to do this every t-t-time?" Bill asked.

"Certainly not. Where is the fun in that? Butch just wants to make an example of you tonight. That's all."

"And if we don't agree?" Mike asked.

Robert jammed on the breaks. The seat belt dug uncomfortably into Bill's sternum as his neck snapped forward. Robert turned in his seat and glared at Mike.

"You wouldn't dare disobey me." His tone was soft as a whisper.

Mike didn't flinch. He just stared down Robert, brown eyes meeting blue.

"I don't throw fights."

In the history of living with Robert he had never asked them to lose on purpose, just another reason why Derry was different. Bill knew that Mike took pride in his fights. For him there was an honor and dignity. It wasn't about beating up another guy, it was about out thinking his opponent. To throw a fight was dirty. It meant that the blows weren't strategic, but violent. Bill watched Mike carefully.

"You will tonight." Robert said.

"I won't."

Robert twisted around. He grabbed Mike's throat and forced him back into his seat. The movement was awkward as the bigger man was constrained by his own seat belt and the limited space of the car, but even so Mike's breath was knocked from him. His breathing took on a choking sound even worse than Eddie's. Mike tried to bring his arm up to push Robert off, but the other man was stronger.

Robert pushed him back again.

Mike's head hit the headrest; the gagging sound increased.

Eddie shoved his inhaler in his mouth, his own lungs burning. He wished he could do something to stop Robert, but all he could do was watch. Tears had begun to form in Mike's eyes. He must be dying for air at this point.

Georgie moved away from Mike, practically falling into Bill's lap. This was too much. He knew Robert could be violent, but never on fight nights. Mike and Bill were his pride and joy on fight nights, to harm them was to harm the merchandise. If he was willing to go this far now, what would prevent him from going farther in the future?

Mike was getting really desperate now. He kicked the back of Eddie's seat to no avail. He grappled at the seat belt, and tried to shove Robert off.

"You are throwing the fight, Michael. If you don't I don't think you'll like the consequences." This time Robert diverted his gaze to Eddie.