"Stay down. Last warning." Muggo spat a wad of blood on the mat from around his mouth guard. "Nevah seen anyone take a beatin' like that, ain't enjoyin' it."

The bell rang, indicating the last of the round. Bigstack moved to help Alex up from the same mat, while avoiding the blood. "How are you not broken? I mean that guy? He should be carrying his bike, not the other way around." He pulled the mouth guard from Alex's mouth and offered water while quickly scanning over the bruising eye and small cuts. "We all know you're a tough son of a bitch Angelo, but it's time to stop playing with this guy."

?Let no one lose heart on account of this Philistine; your servant will go and fight him.? Alex said with a grin after spitting the pink tinged blood onto the ground outside of the ring.

"Really? The Bible?" Bigstack sighed. "You stay in there much longer, that monster's going to get lucky and kill you."

"Not today. He's just a man." Alex said before Bigstack shoved the guard back in. "Besides, it's a message. The 'hounds aren't going to steal from us, ever." He said as the bell rang.

He was up on his feet moving quickly. A man that had already gone eight with a beast like Muggo shouldn't be moving that fast. "Fine, you want to die over a slight, Alex? Your call. I'll mourn you."

Muggo swung the big left, and was surprised when Alex moved right and landed two quick jabs to his ribs.
"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil."
Muggo swung again only for a counter of a left-right combo to his jaw, which rocked the big man backward on his heels, dazing him for the briefest of moments. The crowd of bikers roared in excitement.
"for you are with me;
Alex moved like a professional. Muggo was told the man was tough for his size, but after seeing him he thought the man wouldn't last a round. Alex moved in again, landing two hard body blows on the left side, Muggo's preferred, and was rewarded with the bigger man's howl of pain as at least two ribs broke.
"your rod and your staff,they comfort me."
He didn't let up the assault. Lefts and rights. Combos and jabs. When he saw the man's guard drop, he connected the right to his opponent's jaw, spinning him into the ropes and down to his knees.

The big man looked up at Alex from the mat. One hand on the rope to pull himself up to his feet. The chosen ref stood between the men.

"Last warning, stay down," Alex said around the mouth guard with a smile. Muggo scowled, but the ref counted him down and out.

The crowd cleared out, only the boys remained in the clubhouse. Some celebrating the win over the 'hounds main enforcer while others celebrated with women in the apartments upstairs. Prospects cleaned the floors and tables, keeping themselves busy knowing that's how they received the patch. Secretly having lined their pockets with some cash from the fight to upgrade their own bikes as well. It was a night of celebration all around.

Alex had a beer after the fight, then disappeared into the biggest apartment for a long, hot shower. The shiner would heal and clear up in a couple of days. The split in his lip already looked better. Long hair was combed back from his face, and for the briefest of moments his eyes reflected like an animal in the headlights of his bike. "Long day," He muttered to himself. "Go to the garage, get some rest." He felt as if permission was needed from someone. Since the death of Yuri, the patch fell to him and was sewn onto his cut, they looked to him for answers and decisions. A knock at his door brought him out of the thoughts of the club's former Prez.

"Alex?" Her voice was low and smokey. He knew she'd been drinking with the guys and had gone through at least a pack of Red before coming to his room. "They told me you were up here." He could smell her from the bathroom. Smoke, booze and sex. He stepped out, wearing black jeans and holding his shirt. A smile played across her red painted lips. "There you are." Sing song voice, as she moved up and traced fingers from his shoulder, across his chest, and down his sculpted abs, toward the hem of his jeans. "I want to celebrate." She was used to getting her way.

"We talked about this," Alex said. He pushed her hand away from his body before pulling on the plain, white tee. "We've had some fun, but that's it."

Her bottom lip poked out into a pretty little pout. "You were serious?" Her eyes wide, trying to be playful.

She did look good. Top barely concealing perky breasts, leather pants that left nothing to the imagination for her amazing curves. He nodded his head, more for his own need than hers. "Yes, I'm serious. Things are crazy enough without bringing you into the mix."

"Wait, are you calling me crazy?" Everything changed. Her posture, the playful demeanor, the smell of sex. The imp was gone. The bitch stood in her place. "I've always been here for you."

"You've been here for yourself, Chan. Nothing says any differently." He smoothed his shirt, then pulled on the leather cut over it. The patch on the back showing the forms of Life and Death in a struggle over the world. "I don't have time for this shit. I'm going home and going to bed."

She wailed like a banshee. Cussing him in Spanish, German, and English. She was a crazy mix, and he'd been told. Luckily there were no breakables in the barren apartment, and the music down stairs would drown out the screaming.

"Work it out, Chan. Lock the door on your way out." He pulled the door closed just as something hit the back of it. "Scoot told you she had crazy eyes." He muttered on the way down the stairs.

The night air was cool and refreshing. The black hoodie that covered his cut to keep the appointed law from harassing him was just enough to keep him warm. His mind wandered as it always did when it was just him and the Dyna. Wondering the future of the club, and keeping with Yuri's wish of no demons in the rank. Other clubs were giving in. Making deals and more money than his own. In a matter of time, he felt his would become a patch over. Yuri would roll over in his fresh grave.

A bright light. The brightest he had seen poured forth and broke him from his thoughts. He jammed on the brakes and dodged, trying not to ditch or hit what he assumed was a truck he'd crossed into the lane of. Why a truck was out at this hour... then he saw the source. Several figures and one smaller. A woman. The source of the light. The bike was parked in the middle of the street, running in case of a fast getaway. She was the light, though it was dying as quickly as it came. One of the figures saw him and stepped forward. A demon.

"Private affair. You need to go, now." It reached out a hand and poked Alex in the chest, hard.

Alex looked down at the hand, then back into the demon's eyes. One thing he had learned over the past few years, demons were tough but, they still felt pain. He grabbed the assaulting hand and twisted until he heard the bones pop.

"Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil."