It was two hours later when the door to Charlie's room opened. It was Kenneth, hauling him out unceremoniously.
Charlie couldn't even find it in himself to protest.
Not until he saw Ben coming out of Caleb's room with the boy behind.
Caleb looked at Charlie, his eyes a bit wide and complexion more pale than usual. Then he looked away.
Charlie's assumption was confirmed. He didn't even have to ask. He balked.
"No. You can't do this!" he said, ignoring the way Kenneth's fingers dug into his shoulder.
"We can do whatever we want. Now keep moving you bastard or I will drag you by your feet if I must."
Charlie might've protested more, but Kenneth took hold of his already injured hand and squeezed. Charlie yelped, his knees going weak.
"Stop the bickering, and get into the car!" Ben snapped, obviously tired of the posturing.
Kenneth just snorted, giving Charlie a push forward.
They left the house and were pushed inside the familiar car. Charlie and Caleb sat on the backseat. As they were both seated, Kenneth pulled out a pair of handcuffs. Without asking, he put it on Charlie's right hand and Caleb's left, handcuffing them together.
Charlie threw him a glare before he was unceremoniously blinded by the damn burlap sack, once again pulled over his head.
This was ridiculous.
He knew whatever the outcome was, they wouldn't let him get out of this alive. Kenneth wouldn't at least. Why all this charade about the sacks then? Was Kenneth doing it for Caleb's sake?
It didn't matter.
Charlie couldn't have escaped even if he wanted, not with Caleb handcuffed to him. He was just glad he sat on the left side of the car and it was his right hand handcuffed. He wasn't sure he could hold his breakfast if his left kept being juggled and pulled with the constant motion of the car or when Caleb nervously twitched his fingers. Which he did a lot.
By the time they reached their destination, Charlie was ready to snap at Caleb to stay still.
Thing was, he was feeling about as nervous as the kid. He thought that there would be more time. If it was anyone but Caleb he was supposed to fight, he could drag it out. He wouldn't mind taking and giving a few punches. But he really didn't want to be put in the same ring as Caleb.
When the car stopped, Charlie reached up to take off the sack, but Kenneth's words stopped him.
"No. Keep that on until I say you can take it off."
Charlie paused, weirded out by the command. What was Kenneth worried he would see?
Still, he knew he was already on thin ice with the man. It wasn't worth the hassle.
The handcuffs clicked open and suddenly Charlie was free of Caleb. He couldn't even properly enjoy it when he was pulled out of his seat and led away.
"Caleb?" he called out but got no response. "What the hell's going on?"
"Shut up."
Kenneth was leading him through what felt like a long corridor. Charlie heard only his own and Kenneth's footsteps. It seemed like the place was empty of any furniture as there was a strange echo.
Charlie realized they weren't in the usual gym.
He swallowed down the rising feeling of worry.
The third fight was happening somewhere else. If Johnson lost track of them... he was pretty much screwed. And he wouldn't even know until it was too late.
"Here. Get ready," Kenneth said as he pushed Charlie through a door. Charlie finally reached up and took off the sack. He blinked at another small cubicle, barely bigger than a broom closet. Kenneth was smirking at him from the door. "Don't worry... no one will open this lock before the fight starts. I made sure of that."
Kenneth slammed the door closed and Charlie heard not one but two different locks engage. Oh well. Not like he had all that much experience in lock picking, or as much time as he would need for this.
Instead he was left in a room with barely anything.
He wasn't sure what broom closet would need two locks... and he also didn't see any brooms around. Unfortunately, the room's furnishing didn't give him any clue to its purpose. Only that it wasn't being used all that often. There was a layer of dust and paint laying on the floor and the single chair in the middle. As usual there was some wrapping for his hands, a pitcher of water. Nothing else.
More waiting. Charlie would've liked to think he was becoming better at it, but it would be a lie.
He used the time to try and wrap his injured hand as best he could, knowing well it would hinder his fighting anyway. Charlie fervently hoped Johnson had made it and would step in, before anyone would get harmed.
But it was just that... a hope.
When Kenneth next came, he was accompanied by another guy Charlie didn't know. It was a burly man, one of those you saw in the gym lifting weights all day long. He didn't speak, didn't do more than give Charlie a look of pure disinterest. Charlie assumed it was just a backup Kenneth brought in case Charlie balked at the last moment. It caused Charlie a surprising amount of joy to realize that Kenneth was vary of him to some point.
"It's time," Kenneth said and nodded at the man. He stepped towards Charlie, who took an instinctive step back, only to realize there was really nowhere to go. With a sigh, he stood in place, shooting Kenneth a glare.
"What, were you too afraid I would run?"
"Nah. Douglas was just worried I would finish you off before getting to the ring," Kenneth replied with a smirk.
Charlie huffed.
"As if," he muttered under his nose as the guard took hold of his shoulder and steered him towards the door. There was no escaping that death grip, nor the sack that was once again put over his head.
Charlie was pretty sure that it wasn't a necessary precaution, just Kenneth's way of making his life more miserable.
The walk seemed to be at the same time longer than the one he took from the car, but also too short. In mere minutes, Charlie heard and felt the presence of people. There were no shouts and yells, but there was a distinct chatter all around and even blinded, he could feel the eyes on him. Judging, expecting blood.
They finally came to a stop. The death grip vanished from his shoulder and suddenly Charlie was left alone.
Well, as alone as someone surrounded by people could be.
It took him a second to realize that he was left to his own devices. He could also hear a hiss of breath as someone was pushed against him.
Charlie took a step back and promptly pulled down the sack. It took him a moment to adjust. It seemed that there were several lights pointed his way.
"What the hell?" he muttered, quickly blinking and trying to find his bearings.
He thought he would be in a ring but that wasn't true anymore. Charlie caught sight of unfamiliar, posh looking faces staring at him from the darkened area. He couldn't see much though, because most of the lights were on them. He could see however the high ceiling of an industrial building or a warehouse.
They were definitely not at the gym.
And they were not in a ring either. Charlie found himself to be standing inside a metal cage.
It was large... probably a bit larger in diameter than the usual boxing ring would be. But there was no escape, not even from the top. The only way out was a door, locked and guarded by two behemoths and a smirking Kenneth.
Charlie swallowed, then turned to look at his opponent.
His heart skipped a beat as he recognized Caleb.
Of course, he was expecting it at this point, but still, he was hoping he wouldn't have to face the kid.
Caleb was looking around equally wide eyed, somehow reminding him of a cornered animal.
Charlie's brows furrowed.
"Caleb? Hey, look at me," he said, ignoring the sudden jeering from the crowd. He didn't care about them really. He just wanted Caleb to look at him and somehow communicate that they didn't need to do this. All they had to do was pretend, buy some time.
Caleb snapped his face away from the crowd and looked at Charlie.
Or rather, he looked through him.
Charlie noted the too wide pupils, the fear and rage hidden in those eyes.
"Damn it kid," he muttered, raising his hands to show he didn't mean any harm.
Caleb only noticed the movement though.
It was as if the last two weeks didn't happen, as if he never saw Charlie before. It was as if the kid was replaced by an angry and dangerous stranger.
There was a whistle from outside the cage. Charlie winced, then promptly sidestepped. Caleb had charged at him.
"Bloody hell! Caleb! Stop!" Charlie tried to break through the haze of drugs that must've been rushing through Caleb's system. Surely that was what the blasted doctor had been talking about. But it was useless.
Every time Charlie opened his mouth, Caleb just seemed to grow angrier and angrier. The shouts and jeers from the crowd only made it worse.
Charlie had taken one or two hits, trying to use the contact to subdue Caleb, to get him to listen.
Each time though Caleb slipped out of his hold like a weasel. He was thin and surprisingly agile. Charlie quickly figured out that he wouldn't be able to keep this up without some sort of an attack. Caleb's fists were fuelled by rage and drugs and it damn well hurt.
Charlie looked around, hoping to spot Johnson or at least some kind of a sign that the backup was there. But the lights were shining into his eyes, making it impossible to see clearly.
He had to bade for time... and if worse came to worse, knock the kid out somehow. Maybe that would be enough for the crowd.
Another punch caught him in the face and Charlie stumbled back, momentarily blinded. Caleb had caught him just right on the temple. The sounds became a bit less clear, his focus slipping.
'Focus, Charlie!' It was Lawson's voice and for a second Charlie turned his head searching the source. Hoping to see his Boss there. At least then he would know he was safe.
'On the fight, bloody idiot!'
Charlie wasn't sure whether it was Bill's voice or Blake's now, though he admittedly didn't remember Blake swearing at him in such way.
'God, I'm losing it,' he thought as he raised his arms, catching a glancing shot from Caleb on his left forearm. His whole arm throbbed, sending spikes of pain through his shoulder straight to his head.
Next time Caleb charged, Charlie didn't think. He blocked the attack and used his right leg to get Caleb to the ground. He knew his dominant arm was shot to hell.
Caleb crashed to his knees with spectacular force. Charlie could've sworn he heard the kid's teeth click.
He managed to get himself behind Caleb's back and put his arms around his neck in a chokehold.
The crowd buzzed.
Caleb trashed under his hands and Charlie pressed a bit more, but it was hard to keep the pressure up. The drugs gave Caleb a rush that Charlie was missing.
They struggled, Charlie pushing his knee into Caleb's back and sending them both sprawling on the ground.
"Just stay the hell down kid!" Charlie hissed.
Caleb let out a roar and buckled.
Charlie cursed as Caleb's elbow caught him in the already bruised ribs. He let up some of the pressure and it was enough for Caleb to roll out of his reach. They were both on the ground, glaring at each other, panting. Neither of them moved though.
The crowd let out a sound of protest.
Charlie wished all of them would just drop dead, feeling sickened by their thirst for blood.
It was nothing to the feeling of dread he felt a moment later though.
The door of the cage opened, only for a second though.
Two things landed on the floor, right between Caleb and Charlie.
Knives.
Two shiny, sharp as hell knives.
"No," Charlie said, eyes wide. No way in hell was he doing this. "Sick bastards!" he shouted towards the already locked door, only to see Kenneth giving him a finger.
"You don't have to do this, Caleb," Charlie tried, but knew it was useless. He could see the glint of excitement in Caleb's eyes. They were locked on the knives and he was already lunging forward.
"Damn!" Charlie didn't want to, but he knew he had no choice. He lunged forward as well.
His hand landed on the knife nearest to him. He tried to grab the other one too, to get it out of Caleb's reach, but he was too late.
Caleb was already clutching the knife and Charlie had to pull back his hand quickly as the kid lashed out.
Grunting and wishing he had just stayed back in Ballarat, Charlie fell back and used his legs to push himself backwards, out of Caleb's reach. Then he rolled over and as fast as he was capable of get up to his feet. He felt the weight of the knife in his right hand and wondered where the hell did his life go wrong.
The crowd seemed to be thrilled by the possibility of seeing more blood as the cage rattled.
"Kill him!" the people roared and Charlie didn't know who they were talking to, but it didn't matter. He was not a killer. Unfortunately, Caleb seemed to take in the sound as his lips curled up in a feral smile. He was now facing Charlie, maybe five feet between them as Caleb switched the knife from his right to left hand, then back.
Charlie's brows furrowed as he remembered the thudding sound he heard each night from Caleb's room.
The kid was good with a knife. Of course. That's why Douglas and Kenneth kept him... he was their closer.
"Finish him!" Kenneth shouted from somewhere, jeering the kid on.
Charlie gritted his teeth, the knife in his hand feeling strange and more like a useless weight.
Cheered by all the noise, Caleb let out a roar and rushed at Charlie.
Charlie let his instincts and police training take over. He raised his right arm to protect himself. The knife slashed through the skin of his forearm, but Charlie didn't care. If not his arm, it would've hit him in the throat. Using Caleb's proximity, Charlie used the handle of the knife as brass knuckles and slammed his fist into Caleb's nose.
Blood splashed around as Charlie felt the crack of the cartilage breaking.
"Stop it!" Charlie shouted and as Caleb stumbled backwards, he seemed to hesitate.
The overhead lights suddenly blinked.
There were shouts and the sound of the crowd changed from excitement and blood thirst to panic.
Charlie barely noticed, really. All he could hear was the pumping of his own blood, all he could see were Caleb's eyes. Determined.
Dangerous.
Charlie grimaced. He could feel his right sleeve turning wet from the blood. He could feel each and every bruise he had received in the last week, his left leg throbbing where the blasted dog had bit him. Despite all of that, despite Caleb ready to charge again, Charlie couldn't erase the image of his own brother's face. It could've so easily been Ray.
Without thinking, Charlie raised the hand still holding the knife. Then, seeing Caleb's eyes following his every motion, he let the weapon drop from his fingers.
"I don't want to hurt you," he said, praying it would get through Caleb's head. Around them the noise was raising in volume and desperation. He thought he caught the words 'Police! Get on the ground!
The overhead light flickered once again.
In the momentary darkness, all Charlie saw was quick movement in front of him. He felt a heavy punch in his gut, saw the whites of Caleb's eyes. The too wide pupils, only inches from Charlie's own.
The door to the cage swung open. People rushed in, pulling the kid off of him.
Charlie took a step backwards, then two.
He saw Caleb struggle as the light flickered again. When it came back on, the men who were holding the kid were both just getting up off the floor. Caleb was gone.
Someone shouted for them to get him and the two men followed the command.
Good. Charlie hoped they caught him. Charlie hoped those two were cops and not someone working with Kenneth though.
"Charlie?" Someone was in front of him, grabbing his chin.
Charlie turned and saw Johnson. The man looked haggard. His lip was busted and he was sporting a shiner, but most of all his eyes were filled with concern.
Charlie felt almost touched.
"Took your time," he grunted, then blinked.
Damn, but the kid could throw a punch.
He was still having trouble catching his breath, his side throbbing something awful. Maybe he broke a rib again?
"Yeah well, we ran into some trouble on the way. Are you alright?"
Charlie huffed.
Of course he wasn't. He went through hell for the last few weeks, not knowing whether he would survive or not. But that wasn't important now. It was over, wasn't it?
Charlie nodded.
"Find Caleb?" he said, still hoping the kid could be saved somehow. This wasn't his fault after all.
"Yeah, working on it. I'm more worried about you." Johnson's eyes ran over Charlie's body, assessing. They stopped at his torso.
"Fuck!" he cursed and Charlie blinked. He didn't think he looked that bad.
"I need a medic!" Johnson shouted to someone outside the cage.
"T's alright... just sore," Charlie muttered with a frown. True, he hurt all over and his arms were probably a mess what with the cut too, but that was hardly a reason for the panic in Johnson's eye.
"Yeah, no kidding," Johnson snapped, his hand touching Charlie's stomach.
The pain changed.
Charlie hissed and looked down, trying to figure out why suddenly it was as if someone gutted him.
The growing stain of crimson on his left side came as a bit of a surprise. The bloody knife lying just a feet from him made things clearer.
"Shit," Charlie uttered, realizing the punch wasn't a punch at all.
Caleb had stabbed him.
With that knowledge it was as if all the strength left his body.
The kid stabbed him, even after he dropped his own knife.
Why the hell would he do something like that?
Why?
Charlie's mind couldn't stop pondering that question, even as his knees buckled.
He felt arms grab him and help him to the floor. He turned his head, sight suddenly blurry. There was a stab of pain as Johnson leaned over and put pressure on the wound. Charlie's leg jerked in response, but that was about all the protest he was capable of.
"Hang on, Charlie. It's over. Just hang on," Johnson kept repeating, but Charlie tuned it out. The lights above were swaying, flickering. Charlie thought it was almost pretty.
Then everything went black.