The Art of the Hustle 2 (Complete)

Chapter Fifteen

Trevor nearly fell flat on his face from being suddenly and unexpectedly shoved from behind. He spun around to see who shoved him, but was met with a wall of chanting blood-thirsty fight fans. None of them seemed to be aware of who he was.

Trevor tried to push his way through the crowd and find the exit as quickly as possible. If he ended up fighting a trained martial artist without notice or preparation, he would surely be in for a long and painful night. There was even a possibility of being bludgeoned to death. It wasn't exactly a sanctioned bout with medical professionals on standby.

"I don't want to fight," Trevor said, holding up his hands. The crowd booed.

"This guy doesn't want to fight," The Collector said. "I can't fight a guy who doesn't want to fight."

"The show must go on," the announcer said. "If you want your money, you will fight him."

"I'm sorry bro, but I need the money," The Collector said. "But don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

Using his quick wit, Trevor came up with a solution. "I'll give you two thousand dollars to get me out of here in one piece."

"Deal."

The Collector escorted Trevor through the parted crowd while the announcer pleaded with them to stay and fight. The crowd grew even more disorderly, booing and throwing more than insults at them.

Leaving the fight area, Trevor now found himself back in the hall in which he came and eventually outside. As soon as the fresh air hit his face, Trevor pulled out a wad of cash and counted out two thousand dollars.

"Here," he said, handing it to The Collector. "And thanks."

"You carry around a lot of cash. You should be careful."

"Yeah," Trevor said.

"I'm Mike," the fighter said, extending his hand.

"Nice to meet you."

"What's your name?" Mike asked.

Trevor hesitated. "You know, I appreciate what you did for me, Mike, but I don't think I will be back here. So if it's all the same, I'd prefer to be on my way."

"Hey, wait," Mike said, taking a good look at Trevor's scruffy face under the glow from the streetlight. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"I don't think so."

"Yeah, I recognize you. Are you a famous actor or something?"

"No."

"What do you do?"

"I do nothing," Trevor said.

"A man who does nothing and has two thousand dollars in his pocket. Must be a good life."

"Now that two thousand dollars is in your pocket, and I assure you, you have a better life than me."

"Ha! Somehow I doubt that."

"Nice to meet you, Mike. Have yourself a pleasant evening."

Trevor walked down the dimly lit street until he found the main road. He looked over his shoulder a few times just to be sure he wasn't being followed.

Meandering through the downtown core, Trevor arrived back at the Fairmont Pacific Rim hotel and went up to his suite. Entering the familiar space felt exhilarating, especially when he heard the electronic locking mechanism behind him secure him safely inside. Kicking off his shoes and removing his coat, Trevor made his way over to the bed and collapsed on it. He had survived another day.