Chapter Thirty-eight

"What the hell are you doing Jake?"

"Mind your own damn business Frank or I'll put my fist through your face."

"Itching for a fight are you?" Frank chuckled as he stepped aside.

"Something like that." Jake said sourly.

"Well you certainly came to the right place. Have fun."

"I always do."

Stepping off the elevator Jake left Frank behind and walked down the long corridor. Some how this part of the Labyrinth always managed to be wet. Jake wasn't sure where the water came from but its constantly seeped through the concrete walls and dripped from the ceiling. There were a few places that had actually grown small stalactites of lime from the decades of mineral laden water finding it way through the slab ceiling. A chill ran through Jake's body that had nothing to with the cold damp as the excited sounds of the crowd echoed down the hall like the roar of a single bloodthirsty beast.

From the pitch and tone of the crowd Jake could tell without even seeing that the current fight had just come to a bloody conclusion. Not all fights involved a branded captive, anyone with debuts could fight anyone else with them. Winners got their debut removed completely and losers got a percentage taken off. There were even some crazy enough to enter the right strictly looking for a thrill or to make some cash by betting on themselves. In fact with Miller gone Peter and Neal were currently the only two branded under Jake's direct charge. York expected him to keep order among the other temporary contenders but he didn't have to escort them to the ring the same way he dragged his branded brethren up here. It probably wouldn't be too long before there was another branded in the mix and Jake could use the fresh blood to give Peter and Neal more of a break when he added the new comer to the rotation.

"I shouldn't have killed Miller, I could use him now." Jake sighed.

Stepping into the room that held the cage that separated him from the ring Jake had to resist reaching up and rubbing at his chest. The two men on guard duty glanced over at Jake with perfectly matching confused expressions. Rick opened his mouth to ask Jake what was going on but quickly shut it again when Jake narrowed his eyes at him in a deadly glare. The only people who knew Jake was branded at this point was York himself and the four goons he kept close to him at all times. Everyone else who worked for York just knew Jake as a veteran of the ring and not someone to mess with under any circumstances due to his tendency to suddenly turn violent.

Going over to the cage he used his keys to open the door and let himself in not bothering with locking it behind himself. Looking out into the ring he saw that he had been right as the last fight's loser was being helped out the back gate. Jake watched as the clock was reset back to fifteen and the next contender stepped out. Rockwell was no stranger to the ring; mostly due to a gambling problem. He was a half decent fighter, he was certainly a better fighter than gambler considering the frequency of his debuts.

Rockwell had been picked careful to go up against Peter. He had an inch of height and about thirty pounds on the Agent but mostly in fat not muscle making it less of a factor. Under different circumstances Rockwell would have been a good match up for Peter, a challenge but not an unbeatable one. It would have been an entertaining fight for the crowd as they did enjoy seeing a tough battle involving a law enforcement agent striped of his usual power. Trying to look eager to fight Rockwell was pumping up the crowd but Jake knew from experience that many fighters did that to steel up their own courage rather than out of an abundance of self confidence.

"What the hell are you doing Jake?" Jake muttered to himself.

Before he could talk himself out of what was looking to be less and less like a good idea Jake stepped out into the ring. The crowd was used to see him enough that they didn't react to him at first, assuming that he was just stepping out to make some last minute threat or barging with Rockwell. Rockwell was familiar with Jake as well and didn't think much of his approach until Jake stopped about ten feet away from him and signaled for them to start the betting. What Peter and Neal had assumed was just a scare tactic with making them wait in the ring for the fight to start was actually time given to the audience to make a decision and place bets. There were some murmurs of confusion at first but the crowd also knew there was a limited window open to bet and the tone changed to one of excitement as money was put down.

Jake briefly wondered what kind of odds he'd be given. There would be two trains of thought for the house: either place his chances of winning low to entice more people to bet for Rockwell or play it safe and give him high odds to reduce any money lost when he won. Jake guessed it would be the later. This crowd wouldn't really know anything about his fighting ability but they would likely guess that he wouldn't be the ring master if he couldn't hold his own.

"What's going on, Jake?" Rockwell asked sounding a little anxious. "I thought I was fighting that Fed Sawyer told me not to kill."

"Change of plans." Jake shrugged.

"Aren't you off limits or something?"

"Only in the tunnels, there are no rules in the ring."

"Right…uh…if I lost to the Fed I was still going to get my debt fully paid instead of just the half that usually goes to the loser. You know, reward for the added risk of tangling with an Agent."

"You think I'm less of a threat than he is?" Jake growled dangerously.

"No, it's just the FBI doesn't tend to be very forgiving and if they ever figure out what's going on down here...well, I'd rather not be a part of their personal wrath. Anyway, do I still get that deal with you?"

"Planing for failure are you?"

"I'm not constantly down here because I'm a winner, Jake."

Jake honestly didn't know what this was going to do to Rockwell's deal with York, but he didn't care. Jake had zero sympathy for Rockwell, he was down here because he refused to learn his lesson and get real help for his gambling issues. He was allowed to make the same mistake over and over again and still got to walk away once the fight was over and see the sun again. Jake made a single mistake once and he was stuck down here for the rest of his life.

Getting angrier the more he thought about it when the bell rung signifying the start of the fight Jake screamed in animalistic rage before he rushed Rockwell. The crowd roared their approval as Jake savagely drew first blood but he couldn't hear them over the pounding sound of his own heart in his ears. It had been longer than Jake cared to remember since he'd been in the ring but the adrenaline all came back to him. Rockwell had been taken off guard at first but after the painful strike he pulled his head back into the game. For as often as he lost both in and out of the ring Rockwell still fought like a cornered animal.

Twelve minutes into the fight both men were heavily sweating panting for breath but Rockwell was the only one heavily bleeding. Feeling like he had given the crowd a good enough show Jake decided to end the round. Rockwell had gotten in a few solid hits but mostly because Jake had allowed it. He knew York was going to be angry with him as it was having taken Peter's place in the fight, the last thing he needed was pissing the crowd off as well by failing to entertain them. No one enjoyed a heavily one sided fight so Jake had purposefully let his guard down as well as made sure to act more injured than he was. York wouldn't be fooled by the act but as long as the crowd was happy that's all that mattered.

The audience showed that they were having a good time as the noise level raised to a deafening level when Jake knocked Rockwell out with a powerful right upper cut. Rockwell crumpled to the stained floor like a rag doll from the force. Looking down at him Jake had to admit that it had been cathartic to take out some of his pent up aggression on the man. Back when he'd first found himself in the Labyrinth being in the ring had been a terrifying life or death struggle, but it would take a more dangerous opponent than Rockwell for Jake to experience that particular fear again. From the start it hadn't been fighting Rockwell that had made Jake nervous, it was explaining things to York that was going to be the real challenge.

Jake's motives for taking Peter's place in the fight weren't completely altruistic. York would have been equally angry, if not more so, if Peter had stumbled into the ring half dead already and likely gotten himself killed. So with Peter in no condition to fight due to Jake's fault Jake had found himself in a bit of a no win situation. In his drunken haze setting Peter on Sawyer had seemed like a good idea, but in the aftermath he wasn't sure what had made him think that it was going to end in anything other than disaster.

Jake looked down as Rockwell started to slowly regain consciousness. Rockwell had three more seconds to get up before Jake was declared the winner but even if by some miracle he did get up he wasn't in any condition to be a threat. On his back Rockwell suddenly started having trouble breathing as he thrashed. Despite hating the man for his relative freedom Jake kicked Rockwell to force him to roll over onto his side allowing him to spit up the thick blood that had been chocking him.

"Thanks." Rockwell said weakly as the bell rung signifying his loss.

"If I see you down here again, I'll kill you."

Closing his eyes in exhaustion Rockwell just nodded his understanding. Jake's message might have come off as him wanting Rockwell to seek some real help for his gambling but it was actually just a warning that next time Jake doubted he'd be able to keep his temper as in check as he had tonight. With the fight officially over Jake turned and unceremoniously left the ring. If he was lucky York wasn't even here tonight. He doubted anyone would think twice about his participation enough to bother York with that information so his problem could be solved already.

Getting all the way back to his room Jake was feeling more hopefully that there weren't going to be any consequences for him stepping in for Peter. However when he opened the door his stomach dropped when he found one of York's main men waiting for him. Jake didn't need to be told as he just turned around and went to the door a little ways down the hall where he knew York and his other guards would be waiting for him. The man that had been in his room followed closely behind just in case Jake decided to run at the last minute. There was zero risk of Jake running, he knew these tunnels well enough to know that there was no where to go.

Trying to look contrite Jake stepped into the room that he often dragged Neal into with his heart pounding in his throat. York was half sitting half leaning against the sturdy wooden table dressed in a dark suit and a plain colored tie as always. When York was top side it would be impossible to distinguish him as anything other than your average successful Wallstreet businessman. It wasn't until you crossed him that he revealed the wolf hiding under the well tailored sheepskin.

With the arrogance of a King York snapped his fingers and pointed at the floor at his feet. Jake didn't hesitate to walk over and get down on his knees in front of York. There was no sense in pretending that he didn't know what this was about, it would only anger York further. Although Jake was hoping that if he played his cards right he might get away without telling York the whole truth.

"I'm sorry about the fight, I didn't know what else to do." Jake apologized. "Burke has food poisoning, I knew he wouldn't survive a fight and I know you don't want that yet, so I improvised."

"Food poisoning?" York repeated with a raised eye brow.

"Yeah," Jake shrugged casually "you know how the food is down here."

"I don't really, but I certainly don't pay much for it."

"He'll be good to go again soon."

"Let's say I believe you." York said in a tone that suggested that he didn't. "If Burke is out for the night why didn't you just have Caffrey take his place?"

Jake froze when he realized that he not only didn't have an answer for York but that he didn't have an answer for himself. It hadn't even occurred to him as a solution to throw Neal into the ring against Rockwell. Putting himself in the ring without even considering the other option was the first time in as long as Jake could remember that he had put himself in harms way for another, and there was only one reason that he would do that. He hadn't even admitted to himself that Neal or Peter were anything more than playthings to him, but there was no denying a stronger connection now.

Not having an answer right away Jake didn't even bother trying to come up with a lie knowing that York already knew the truth. York looked down on Jake with what might almost be seen as sympathy or at the very least pity. Jake jolted slightly as York suddenly reached out and carded his fingers gently into his hair. He expected York to use the hold to jerk his head back, but he kept his touch gentle. York guided Jake to look up at him and when he did Jake was surprised to see a sad smile on York's usually stoic face.

"How long have you been down here, Jake?"

"I…I don't know." Jake replied honestly. "I've lost track."

"So have I actually." York admitted. "I've always liked you. You were never a bad kid, you just made a stupid mistake. However ignorance of my laws is no defense and examples have to be made."

Jake just nodded slightly.

"You know, I think tonight was my fault." York said suddenly.

"Wha…what?" Jake asked shocked.

"Take your shirt off." York ordered calmly as he took his hand out of Jake's hair.

"Sir, I…"

"Don't make me repeat myself."

Jake glanced over his shoulder at the four other men in the room that all had leering grins slapped across their faces. Jake ground his teeth angrily at how much they enjoyed seeing him humiliated. He didn't even know their names but they always seemed to take pleasure in their visits down here with York to lord over him. Not wanting to risk York giving them the go ahead to tear his shirt away from him Jake pulled it off himself. After staring down at Jake for a moment York reached behind himself and picked up the metal baton that Jake usually carried with him. With his blood running ice cold Jake cursed under his breath at forgetting to retrieve the weapon from Sawyer. York rested the end of the weapon on Jake's shoulder and sighed.

"Sawyer tells a very different story than food poisoning for Burke being under the weather tonight." York smiled coldly. "I will say this: I am impressed that you were able to talk Burke into attacking Sawyer and if Burke had actually killed him I would be even more impressed with you both. On the other hand it shows a deep lack of respect to me that you think you can skirt the rules by having Burke as your errand boy. Which is what brings us as to why I think that all of this is my fault…"

Jake swallowed hard as York traced the tip of the metal weapon across his chest until it was over the faint white scaring of his brand. The once gruesomely bright scar may have lost some of its color over the years but the memory of receiving it was seared vividly in Jake's mind. Nearly out his mind with panic as York pressed the baton into his chest Jake fought to find his voice. Unable to find words Jake was only able to manage a heartfelt wail of panic when York nodded to his guards who were already closing in on him. Jake fought blindly against the powerful hands that grabbed him as he kicked and flailed wildly which did little to stop them from lifting him up before pinning him to the floor on his back. Arching back against the cold floor Jake screamed at the top of his lungs in a blood curdling cry of terror as he heard the distinctive sound of York igniting a small blow-torch. Jake's next cry was cut off by one of the men forcing a twisted piece of cloth between his teeth. Reflexively biting down Jake started violently hyperventilating which combined with his sky rocking blood pressure was bring him close to mercifully passing out. As he started to black out he could still hear York's words that held an edge of empathy to them.

"I never should have let your brand fade."