Jack scratched the side of his face, his eyes darting to the one clutching Tyson around the neck. “Well then, what are you waiting for?” The group hunched, readying themselves for a brawl. They glanced among themselves as if expecting someone else to engage; instead it only revealed their inexperience and lack of confidence.
Finally, just like clockwork three of them lunged forward, furious and wild eyed. Jack stabbed the first in the nuts with the toe of his boot, ducked his head and let a punch scythe through the air above him while he rammed his fist into the second man’s solar plexus, then followed through by sweeping up his arm around his neck and thrusting him into the third guy who was trying to get at him. Out the corner of his eye he saw Tyson drop and drive his elbow into the armed man’s gut and begin to take care of business. That left only two able-bodied assailants. Unlike the first three who attacked, the second group parted to his left and right to make it harder. It didn’t. Jack anticipated them rushing him so he snapped out his leg, driving it hard into the kneecap of the one on his right while simultaneously jabbing to his left as the other came in. He ran straight into his meaty paw. Before they could catch a second wind, Jack grabbed the closest one to him and drove him into another one of the guys before launching a series of hooks and jabs, picking off the most able-bodied out of them all before pulling back and assessing the situation. Two of them were groaning and doubled over, one of them was helping his pal up and the fifth was out cold. Jack glanced over to Tyson who had the guy on the ground in an arm lock. He saw the man’s arm buckle just as it snapped.
Taking his eyes off the two who were groaning for just a second gave one of them the advantage. He let out a yell and charged forward like a bull with his head low but it was the worst thing he could do. Jack came up with a knee and plowed it up into his face bursting his nose like a fire hydrant. The pain took care of the rest. He collapsed in a heap gripping his face. A few seconds of hesitation by the other three, a moment of consideration and they scattered leaving behind their pals who would spend the next few hours sleeping it off.
He glanced back at Tyson who was up and brushing off grime from his clothes. On the ground the man was groaning, clutching his arm and cursing. Seeing he was out of trouble, Jack turned and headed back for his bag at the bar.
“Hey, mister. Wait up!”
Jack glanced over his shoulder but kept moving out of the lot and back onto the sidewalk. Tyson caught up with him, out of breath and pumped up with adrenaline. He stank of alcohol and was slurring his speech.
“That was a ballsy move you pulled back there. Look, thanks, I appreciate the help but I could have handled it.”
“Yeah, you seemed to be handling it real well,” Jack said tossing him a sideways glance.
“Look, the name’s Tyson. Tyson Miles but most call me The Machine. Well, that’s my fight name. You fight?”
Jack chuckled, and shook his head as they crossed the road.
“Of course you do. No one picks off five guys the way you did without having some background in the sport. So… what are you, like a black belt?”
“Nope.”
“You run a gym?”
“Nope.”
They slipped past pedestrians and reentered the hotel. Jack made his way back into the bar. “But you’re from around here?”
“Nope. Just passing through.” Jack headed over to the bar and motioned to the bartender who came over and handed him his bag. He’d left it with him for safekeeping until he returned. The bartender had been wary of taking it but Jack reassured him he’d return in a few minutes. “Thank you, sir.”
“Hey, Tyson. How did it go?” Rob asked.
He waved him off. “Piece of cake. I took care of business.”
Jack raised an eyebrow.
Tyson cleared his throat. “With a little help from this guy.”
After collecting his bag he made his way out with Tyson in his shadow. He couldn’t shake the kid.
“Look, can I buy you a drink? My way of thanking you.”
“I’m good. Besides you smell like you’ve had your fill for the night.”
“Ah man, c’mon. Hey so what brings you here to Santa Fe?”
“Business.”
“Yeah? You a salesman or something?”
“Something like that.”
Jack weaved in and out of tourists, heading for a hotel he’d looked up earlier to see if they had a room. It wasn’t a four star but if it offered a bed he’d take it. After the day he’d had, all he wanted was somewhere soft to rest his head. Tomorrow would be a new day and his mind wouldn’t be so foggy.
“So where you staying?” Tyson asked.
“Haven’t decided yet.”
He wasn’t sure if he would take a room at the next hotel or not.
“Listen, it’s late. Chances of you finding a decent place at this time of night will be slim. Hotels are overcharging because of the festival and unless you want to wake up with bedbug bites all over you or someone slitting your throat you might want to consider other options.”
“Like?”
“Come stay at my place. We’ve got a spare room.”
His reply caught him off guard. Jack snorted. “I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. You wouldn’t be putting us out. And I insist. After what you did back there. C’mon, man. My ma makes a killer breakfast.”
“You still live with your mother?”
“Ah, it’s temporary. You know… just until I get myself set up with a place. I have a few things in the works. A plan. I’ve got it all worked out. Five years from now I’ll be made. In fact you’ll see my name on billboards
