“Then you better dig deep because it’s time to grow up. Fast.” He glanced back at my father just as one of the men took my father’s arm and broke it in half over his knee. The sickening crunch brought vomit into my throat.

My father wailed a blood-curdling cry, his lower arm flopping unnaturally to the side.

“What the fuck?” I hissed, spittle shooting from my mouth, and tears pooling in my eyes. “Why are you doing this? If these guys are so tough, why not just have them fight?” It may not have been smart to question him, but I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly—shock and horror had taken control.

Sal stepped closer, pressing his finger into my chest. “Because I want you. Now get a fucking grip on yourself before you go out there. This is happening. You may not have expected it, and you may not like it, but none of that matters. Your father’s life depends on your actions tonight. Either you pull your head outta your ass and fight like a man or kiss your father goodbye. The choice is yours.”

I’d never known evil before in my life, but I had no doubt the man standing before me was the devil himself. He glanced at his men and flicked his head toward the door before walking us back into the main room. One man helped my father through the door, and the other acted as my escort.

The second I appeared in shorts and wrapped hands, the crowd whooped and hollered, ready for blood. The noise was deafening, but I hardly noticed it. I had withdrawn inside my head, watching the scene before me like a movie in my own personal theater. One of the spectators spit at me, and I didn’t even flinch.

I was going to have to use my fists to beat a man to death.

The only way I could manage the feat was to go to a place where I was no longer myself. To regress within myself and treat the entire experience like it was happening to someone else.

I climbed into the ring, noting a much smaller man twitching in the opposite corner. He reminded me of a dog I found when I was little. I convinced my mom to let us keep him, so she got a leash on him and we took him to the vet. The thing was so terrified, his tail was tucked all the way beneath him, and he could hardly stand he trembled so bad. The minute the vet touched him, he had pissed himself. My dad had been furious when he got home. The next day, the dog was gone.

I shook my head, doing everything I could to wash the memory from my brain. Nothing about that moment in time was going to help me here. My father was a dick, but I couldn’t let him die. I didn’t know the other man, so I would do my best to imagine him as a child molester or something as equally heinous.