Chapter 1: Rent Is Due
Houston, Texas
7:12 AM
The alarm on Diego Cruz's phone screamed like it wanted to start a fight.
"Shit..."
A large hand slapped the phone off the nightstand.
Crash.
The alarm stopped.
Diego groaned and rolled onto his back.
The ceiling fan spun lazily above him.
Another beautiful morning.
Another day of being broke.
Another day of getting punched in the face for money.
"Perfect."
He sat up and stretched.
Every muscle in his body cracked.
His shoulders were sore.
His ribs hurt.
His knuckles looked like they had survived a war.
Which was pretty accurate.
The underground fight last night had been brutal.
Three rounds.
One giant opponent.
Two broken teeth.
One knockout.
Five thousand dollars.
Worth it.
Mostly.
The bedroom door suddenly swung open.
"Diego!"
His older sister Isabella stood there with crossed arms.
"You are late!"
Diego checked his phone.
7:13.
His eyes widened.
"Oh shit!"
"Language."
"Sorry. Oh crap."
"Still language."
"Fine. Oh wonderful family-friendly disaster."
Isabella rolled her eyes.
"You have class in forty-five minutes."
Diego jumped out of bed.
"I got this."
"You said that yesterday."
"I got there."
"You arrived halfway through class."
"The important thing is I arrived."
"No, the important thing is graduating."
Diego grinned.
"Details."
A pillow immediately hit him in the face.
"Ow!"
"You deserved that."
Diego laughed.
His sister tried not to smile.
Failed.
Then laughed too.
That was how things worked in the Cruz family.
Life wasn't easy.
Money wasn't plentiful.
But laughter was free.
And they used a lot of it.
A few minutes later, Diego entered the kitchen.
The smell of breakfast filled the room.
His mother was cooking.
His father sat at the table reading a newspaper.
The older man still looked strong despite the injuries that ended his boxing career years ago.
"Buenos días, mijo."
"Morning, Dad."
"You're limping."
"I'm always limping."
His father nodded.
"Fair point."
Diego grabbed a taco and started eating.
His mother smacked the back of his head.
"Plate first."
"Mom, we're family."
"Plate."
"Yes, ma'am."
His father smirked.
The mighty Money Fist.
Feared in underground arenas.
Destroyed by his mother.
As it should be.
After breakfast, Diego grabbed his backpack and headed outside.
His ancient pickup truck waited in the driveway.
The vehicle looked like it had lost several fights itself.
The driver's door only opened if kicked.
The radio worked when it felt like it.
The air conditioning had died years ago.
But it moved.
Mostly.
"Come on, baby."
Kick.
The door opened.
"Still got it."
He climbed inside and drove toward college.
Traffic sucked.
Houston traffic always sucked.
By the time he reached campus, he was already fifteen minutes late.
Again.
A familiar voice called out.
"Look who finally showed up."
Diego turned.
Sofia Ramirez.
Beautiful brown eyes.
Long dark hair.
Coffee in one hand.
Judgment in the other.
"Good morning."
"It's nearly eight."
"Still morning."
Sofia sighed.
"You are impossible."
"You say that every day."
"Because it's true every day."
Diego grinned.
For some reason, annoying Sofia was one of his favorite hobbies.
Not because he disliked her.
Actually the opposite.
Way too much the opposite.
Sofia started walking toward class.
Diego followed.
"Want coffee?"
"You asking me out?"
Diego nearly tripped.
"What?!"
Sofia laughed.
The sound hit Diego harder than any punch.
Cute.
Dangerously cute.
"I was kidding."
"Oh."
"You looked terrified."
"I fight people for money."
"And?"
"You scare me more."
She laughed again.
Diego mentally cursed himself.
Smooth, idiot.
Real smooth.
Inside the classroom, Professor Anderson was already teaching.
He stopped when Diego entered.
Silence filled the room.
Everyone looked at him.
The professor sighed.
"Mr. Cruz."
"Professor."
"Late."
"Traffic."
"You live fifteen minutes away."
"Very aggressive traffic."
The classroom laughed.
The professor pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Sit down."
"Thank you."
Diego quickly sat beside Marcus Johnson.
The giant security guard grinned.
"You survived."
"Barely."
"Dude, you should've seen your face."
"Which time?"
"When Sofia asked if you were asking her out."
Diego froze.
"You heard that?"
"The entire hallway heard that."
"Fuck."
Marcus burst out laughing.
The professor glared at them.
Marcus immediately pretended to take notes.
Diego did the same.
Neither of them wrote anything useful.
Two hours later, class ended.
Outside the building, The Hustlers gathered near a food truck.
Ryan Miller was already talking.
Nobody knew when he started.
Nobody knew if he ever stopped.
"...and then the customer says he wanted extra sauce, so I said..."
"Morning, Ryan."
"Oh, hey Diego."
"How long have you been talking?"
"Like twenty minutes."
"About?"
Ryan thought.
"Honestly, I forgot."
Everyone laughed.
Ethan Walker arrived carrying a toolbox.
Miguel Torres showed up wearing gym clothes.
Hannah Brooks carried a stack of business textbooks.
Olivia Carter was filming a social media video.
Carlos Mendoza and Javier Morales arrived from the gym.
The whole crew was there.
The Hustlers.
Friends.
Family.
Chaos.
"Okay," Hannah said. "Who's broke?"
Everyone raised a hand.
Even Olivia.
"Your social media account has half a million followers."
"Do you know how expensive makeup is?"
"Fair."
Diego checked his phone.
A new message appeared.
Unknown Number.
Fight tonight.
$10,000.
Winner takes all.
Location attached.
Diego's smile disappeared.
Marcus noticed.
"What happened?"
Diego showed him the phone.
Marcus whistled.
"Damn."
Ten thousand dollars.
That wasn't normal money.
That was life-changing money.
Rent money.
Food money.
Bills money.
Help-the-family money.
The message continued.
One opponent.
No weapons.
Five rounds.
Winner leaves rich.
Loser leaves unconscious.
"Sounds fun," Marcus said.
"It sounds stupid."
"You gonna do it?"
Diego looked at the message.
Then he thought about his parents.
The bills.
The repairs.
The future.
The dream.
The answer was obvious.
"Yeah."
Sofia overheard.
Her expression darkened.
"Another fight?"
"It's work."
"It's dangerous."
"So is driving in Houston."
"Diego."
He sighed.
She always worried.
And honestly?
He understood why.
Underground fighting wasn't exactly safe.
But neither was being poor.
"I'll be okay."
"You always say that."
"Because it's true."
"Until it isn't."
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Ryan appeared between them holding tacos.
"Anybody want lunch?"
The tension instantly died.
"Ryan."
"Yeah?"
"You have incredible timing."
"I know."
"You don't."
"I don't."
Everyone laughed.
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly.
Classes.
Work.
Training.
Normal life.
At least normal for them.
By sunset, Diego stood inside Carlos Mendoza's gym.
Heavy bags swung.
Gloves slammed.
Sweat covered the floor.
Carlos folded his arms.
"Big fight tonight."
"Yep."
"Ten grand."
"Yep."
"You nervous?"
"No."
Carlos nodded.
"Good."
Pause.
"You should be."
Diego laughed.
"Thanks, Coach."
"I'm serious."
Carlos pointed toward the ring.
"Get in."
Three brutal sparring rounds later, Diego was exhausted.
Carlos nodded.
"Good."
"Good? I feel dead."
"If you can fight tired, you can fight anytime."
"You're a terrible motivational speaker."
"I know."
Night fell over Houston.
The city lights illuminated the streets.
Cars moved.
Music played.
People lived their lives.
Meanwhile, Diego drove toward an abandoned warehouse.
The fight location.
The place looked sketchy as hell.
Which meant it was definitely correct.
Crowds surrounded the building.
Money changed hands.
Bets were made.
Security guards watched the entrances.
Underground fighting.
Business as usual.
As Diego stepped from his truck, a familiar feeling settled over him.
The nerves vanished.
The fear disappeared.
The fighter awakened.
Money Fist.
The Rent Fighter.
The man who got punched for cash.
Inside the warehouse, the crowd roared.
The ring sat in the center.
Bright lights.
Dark shadows.
Loud voices.
Big money.
Danger.
Everything Diego knew.
A promoter approached him.
"You're here."
"Obviously."
"Opponent's already waiting."
"Who is it?"
The promoter smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
The kind that meant trouble.
"A monster."
Diego cracked his neck.
Good.
He liked challenges.
The crowd suddenly erupted.
The warehouse shook from the noise.
Someone enormous stepped into the ring.
Six foot seven.
Over three hundred pounds.
Covered in tattoos.
Built like a damn truck.
Diego stared.
The giant stared back.
Then smiled.
And somehow that smile looked more dangerous than his fists.
The announcer grabbed a microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
The crowd exploded.
"Tonight's main event!"
More cheers.
"Money Fist versus..."
The giant climbed through the ropes.
The ring shook beneath his weight.
The announcer grinned.
"...THE TEXAS TITAN!"
The crowd went insane.
Diego slowly smiled.
Ten thousand dollars.
One giant opponent.
Five rounds.
A warehouse full of witnesses.
Tomorrow was going to hurt.
A lot.
And the fight hadn't even started yet.
End of Chapter 1
