Below The Belt

Round 9

DeAndre's POV

All hell broke loose the second Tyreek's body hit the ground.

"Shit- fuck, is he okay?" I heard Marcus ask, but I couldn't answer him. I couldn't even look at him. I could only watch in silence as Club Onyx staff entered the cage and slid into the ring to check on Tyreek. I watched as they pressed their fingers to his neck to check his pulse, and I felt my own breath stop as I waited for an answer.

After a second, the person nodded their head in confirmation. The announcer, who was still in the ring, grabbed the mic once again and spoke into it. "Pretty Boy is alive, and he'll be rushed straight to a hospital. Everybody please remain calm and wait as patiently as you can for the ring to be cleared before anyone tries to leave. We need the route to the exit to be clear."

The crowd talked amongst each other, most of them concerned and others confused. I watched with a worried frown as a group of people with 'medic' in bold letters across their backs entered the ring. They talked amongst each other as a few of them checked over Tyreek's body, pressing against his ribs and relaying information to each other. I watched with bated breath as they moved him from the ring and lifted his limp body onto a gurney.

The second they rolled him out of the cage, we all flew over to them.

"Is he really okay?" Marcus asked one of the medics.

"Is he just tired? Or is it- Gahdamn nigga look at his fuckin' ribs!" Romeo exclaimed, making us all look at the dark bruising on his side. It looked much worse than it did even after his first fight with Red.

"Oh shit..." I heard Bianca mutter from beside me, but my eyes were locked on those bruises. Did that nigga break his ribs?

We followed the medics until they were outside and waited for them to call an ambulance, but they just kept walking and rolling the stretcher down the street. "Nigga the fuck is y'all doin'?" I asked as we followed behind them.

"We can't call an ambulance in front of the club. Mr. Onyx don't want no unnecessary heat, feel me?" One of the men said.

"No nigga I don't feel you, you don't see his fuckin' side? He might've broken his fuckin' ribs- and if he broke his rib then it could fuckin' puncture somethin'. Like is you fuckin' stipid?" I wasn't usually one to get so passionate, but when I'm sitting here looking dumb and watching the nigga I'm feeling get rolled down a street on a ghetto ass gurney instead taking him straight to a hospital, I'd say it was the time for passion.

"Fuck you, you, you, especially you, and suck my fat ass fuckin' dick bitch ass niggas." I heard Romeo going off, which was probably even more shocking than me going off. I turned to look over at them in time to see Bianca grab their arm and pull them away from the medic they were walking toward. Bianca had one hand wrapped around Romeo's bicep and the other hand holding her phone to her ear.

I pushed past the useless ass 'medics' to stand beside Tyreek. He was still unconscious, and blood dripped from his nose and mouth. His face was bruised, but not quite as badly as his ribs.

"Ambulance is on the way, Dre." I heard Bianca say from beside me, but I was too focused on Tyreek. His chest was rising and falling slowly with shallow breaths, which was pretty much the only sign that he was still alive.

I wasn't used to him being so... still. So quiet. So beaten.

My hand found its way to his and squeezed, but his remained limp and lifeless.

I looked up in time to see the fake ass medics making their way back to the club, leaving us alone with Tyreek's unconscious body now that they knew real paramedics were on the way.