“I’ll put fifty on Hook to win with a knockout,” I said, pulling out my wallet and tossing the bills onto the bar. Gabriel Hook was built like a tank and mean as hell. He was one of my favorite fighters.
Swole scoffed. “Hook’s overconfident.”
“For a reason,” I said, nodding to the TV screen, which happened to be showing a series of clips from fights Hook had won.
“It’s a weakness. Me, I’ll always root for the underdog.” She slapped two hundred-dollar bills on the table. “Snyder to win in three rounds.”
I rolled my eyes. Tammy got pissed when Swole placed big bets and lost, but I wasn’t going to say anything. It was her funeral.
I finished off the beer I’d been nursing for the past hour. It was warm, making it taste like piss, but I was purposefully going low on my alcohol intake tonight. I would be leaving right after the fight to go see my girl, and I didn’t want to have to wait around to sober up enough to leave. I’d never get on my bike if I was too drunk to drive. I wasn’t that big of an asshole.
The fight started, and everyone’s attention went to the TV. There were people crowded around the bar, cheering as Hook took a strong lead in the fight. Snyder was up against the side of the cage with seconds, trying to protect his abdomen and face.
Suddenly, Swole straightened beside me, pulling her phone out of her pocket. I saw her frown before stepping away from the bar, going to the other side of the room, and answering the phone with her finger in one ear.
I went back to watching the fight, letting out a groan when Snyder brought a knee up to Hook’s side. That looked like it hurt. The opponents made their way back to the center of the ring, circling each other…
“Come one,” Swole said as she returned to my side. “We’ve got to go.”
“But… the fight-”
“It’s Erica.”
I was off my barstool in less than a second. I followed Swole across the room and out the door of the bar.
“What about Erica?” I asked as we headed to our bikes. “What’s going on?”
“That was Talia on the phone.”
“Talia?”
“Her neighbor.”
“Is that Las Balas asshole back to cooking?”
“No,” she stopped and turned to me as we reached our bikes, which happened to be parked side-by-side. “It sounds like Erica might be in real trouble. She said she heard yelling between Erica and a man, then her screaming.”
Fuck.
I hopped on my bike without another word. My tires squealed as I peeled out of the parking lot with Swole right behind me. It had to be her husband. That bastard had found her somehow, and I wasn’t there to protect her.
I tried not to think about why she didn’t call me, but my mind couldn’t be controlled in a moment like this. Was she hurt too badly to use the phone? Worse than hurt?
I couldn’t stomach the thought.
When we reached Erica’s house, Talia was standing on her half of the porch, smoking a cigarette. I barely spared her a glance as I opened the front door of Erica’s home. It was unlocked.
I didn’t have to look for her. She was laying on the living room floor less than ten feet in front of me.
“Fuck,” I dropped to my knees beside her still body, eyes running over her. She was breathing, and I measured the steady up and down motion for a long moment. It made me feel marginally better, but the sight of swelling at her temple and a trail of dark red coming from her busted lip made my blood boil. “Baby, wake up.”
I cupped her warm cheek, but there was no response. Looking up at Swole, I saw that she was on the phone. She gave Erica’s address before hanging up.
“An Ambulance will be here in five minutes.”
“Good. Try to find Dominic.”
Swole headed toward the stairs, but a voice spoke from the doorway.
