Page 16 of Unbelonging


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I nodded. A moment later, he hoisted me up into the bed of a nearby pickup truck. Grinning, he climbed up to join me. He was quickly followed by two other guys and the girl in the leather jacket.

He grinned down at me. "My truck!" he yelled over the cheers and shouts of the crowd.

I nodded. "Nice!" Then I turned my attention to what was going on inside the circle.

In the center of the circle was Lawton Rastor. Of course.

Chapter 10

A few feet away, on the pavement, I saw a massive guy with a shaved head. He was on his hands and knees, as if trying to push himself up, but not having a lot of luck. His face was covered in blood. It looked like his own.

"Oh my God," I said, gripping Crew Cut Guy's arm. "What happened to him?"

He grinned. "That other guy –" he pointed toward Lawton. "– kicked the shit out of him." He said it like it was a good thing.

"He's hurt," I said. "We've gotta help him."

"Nah, he'll be alright," he said. "Besides, he swung first. Serves him right, you ask me."

I looked at the guy who'd supposedly swung first. Blood dripped from the center of his face. Broken nose? I had no idea.

I looked at Lawton. He wore the same thing he'd been wearing in the restaurant – jeans and a T-shirt, no jacket. His face was a mask of calm intensity, like he knew what was coming and was fully prepared for it. As I watched, the corded muscles on his forearms flexed, making his tattoos dance in the orange glow of the tall parking lot lights as he squared off against the guy facing him.

The second guy was as big as the first one, well over six feet. He looked like he beat people up for a living, or maybe just for fun. Unlike Lawton, his face was a mask of frustration and fury, like things weren't going exactly the way he'd expected.

Around the circle, random people held cell phones out in front of them like cameras, while others ditched their phones to watch with their own eyes. I spotted Brittney and friend at the inner rim of the circle, their eyes bright with excitement as they cheered Lawton on.

If Lawton heard anything outside his own thoughts, he gave no sign. He stood, waiting and watching, like the calm within a storm.

The other guy was anything but calm. With a guttural roar, he barreled toward Lawton, only to whirl off to the side and crash into a couple of onlookers after Lawton's right fist struck the side of his jaw.

"Wow, he's fast," I said, more to myself than to the guy next to me.

The blow had seemed to come from nowhere. One instant, the guy was coming at him, and then the next, he was staggering away.

Crew Cut Guy leaned down to holler in my ear. "That's like his tenth run at him," he said. "Always ends the same way. It's fuckin' amazing, isn't it?"

I nodded.

Lawton seemed unimpressed with the whole scene – the roaring crowd, the frigid night air, and the next attack, which ended with another swift blow from Lawton, this one to the gut.

This time the guy doubled over, then fumbled a couple steps back. Lawton eyed him with a look of near boredom, like he'd be happy when the whole sordid thing was over so he could get back to what he really wanted to be doing.

For the briefest instant, I wondered what that was, exactly. I glanced at Brittney and her friend. They'd stopped yelling, probably because no encouragement was needed. Their lips parted as they devoured the scene in front of them with hungry eyes, as if the fight was the main course, and Lawton would be the dessert.

I couldn't help but wonder if you could even call this a fight. It was nothing like I'd seen on the Internet. Even to my untrained eyes, it was beyond obvious that Lawton could've destroyed the guy already, turning him into a bloody pulp without a whole lot of effort. Why didn't he? Was it because of the audience?

Nearby, the bloody guy on the ground made another half-hearted effort to rise. Lawton's gaze snapped briefly in his direction before returning to the opponent who was still standing. Sort of. He was wobbling more than anything, weaving from side-to-side like he'd be toppling over any moment.

Watching, the crowd grew almost silent, breathless, waiting for the guy to fall over, or for Lawton to finish him off. On the sidelines, I saw more than one wad of money change hands.

In the center of it all stood Lawton, his feet shoulder-width apart and arms loose at his sides. He'd barely broken a sweat. Somehow, I didn't think the cold weather was the reason for his cool demeanor.

Crew Cut Guy leaned in close to me. "You know who that is, don't you?"

I nodded, too breathless to speak.

And then I heard it, the sound of sirens somewhere off in the distance. The crowd shifted, and then as if by unspoken agreement, held its ground. It remained eerily quiet for a few seconds, then began to buzz with the low hum of excitement.