I circled the car and climbed in, preparing myself for whatever happened at the end of this twenty-minute drive.
“How was the rest of your shift?” I asked, wanting to break the silence. I listened as Grace went on to describe the rest of her time in the ED, and then the trauma surgery she assisted on. A pedestrian on a bicycle was involved in a hit and run, and sustained massive injuries.
“The police are still looking for the driver, last I heard,” she finished.
“How’s your sister?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her head turn in my direction. “She’s a little better. She was actually up to going out to dinner with some friends she has here in Williamsport. She told me she was planning on staying the night with one of them.” She sighed, obviously feeling concerned.
“She’ll be all right,” I stated, reaching out my right hand to cover the hand resting in her lap. I truly didn’t know if her sister would be okay, but I knew that Grace was worried and I loathed the fear that entered her eyes whenever she thought about her sister.
“I’ve been looking out for her since before she could walk. I’m more of a mother to her than a sister, oddly enough.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, identifying with what she was feeling but not saying anything. Removing my hand from hers, I placed it back on the wheel.
“Where are we?” Grace finally questioned glancing around.
“Don’t worry. It’s not as bad as it appears.” I was well aware that the empty looking building we were pulling up to could be intimidating to someone who didn’t know what to expect.
“Are you taking me to an abandoned building?”
I shook my head. “It’s not abandoned. Just looks that way from the outside. See …” I jutted my head forward for Grace to peer ahead, “there’re other cars around.” Parking behind a black BMW, I immediately recognized whose car it was.
I hopped out of my Range Rover and cursed, my right hand going to my ribcage. I kept forgetting that damn injury and how fast movements were painful, and likely would be for at least another week.
“So this is the place where you got that injury?” Grace questioned with a lifted eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest.
“You didn’t wait for me to open the door for you,” I countered.
“I was afraid you were too busy keeling over and needed CPR.”
I chuckled in spite of the pain but the grimace on my face must’ve been obvious.
Moving closer, Grace stroked my chest with her hand. “You probably should be home resting.”
“I’m fine.” I slid my right arm over her shoulders and guided us toward the metal door, where I gave the signature knock—two knocks, a pause, followed by three knocks in rapid succession.
“Who is it?” a gruff voice questioned from the other side through the rectangular hole that he slid open.
“Doc.”
The hole slammed shut. Grace looked up at me, confused.
A second passed by before the door was pulled open.
“Get in here, Doc.”
I allowed Grace to step inside before me. Nodding in the direction of the door’s guard, I wrapped my arm around Grace again for comfort. I could tell by the wide-eyed expression on her face, she didn’t know what was going on.
“What is this place?”
“You’ll see,” I answered, and guided her to a second door that wasn’t guarded but did reveal what we came here to see.
As soon as we crossed over the threshold, loud cheers and clapping could be heard. I peered up ahead and spotted two guys in the ring dueling it out, while Buddy moved around them, carefully watching and refereeing the fight.
“Is this …” pausing, Grace took in the scene before her, “an underground fighting league?” Those hickory eyes turned to me.
“We don’t exactly call ourselves aleague.”
