In the next break between rounds, the difference between them was obvious: Alec had to hold himself up using the wall, wiping the blood from his eyes. Morgan was rock steady and untroubled—not taunting and whooping but not worried, either. Just a professional, doing a job.
Then he stripped off his tank top and I saw the tattoos.Militarytattoos. Rick had put my brother in the ring with some ex-Army guy.
The next round started.
I bolted for the stairs.
7
SYLVIE
Al,one of Rick’s bodyguards, was watching from the little side room. He held his arms out to block me, a solid wall of suited muscle.
“Stop the fight!”I screamed. “He’ll kill him!”
He shook his head. “You know how it works. Crowd have paid their money. It’s over when it’s over.”
When one of them can’t get up.I could feel the bile rising in my throat. Behind Al, I could see Alec being driven back by a flurry of blows. His head rocked left, right, left. I imagined his brain being hammered inside his skull. All that delicate artistry that made himhim:his personality, his kindness, his memories of our parents. It was being wiped out, punch by punch.
I launched myself at the pit. I’d throw myself between the two of them, if I had to. But then Al caught me easily around the waist and held me back. I stretched, clawing at the air, reaching for Alec.“No!”
The punches kept coming. Alec’s legs went to jelly and he fell to his knees, his head lolling forward.He’s going to go down anyway. Stop, now! Stop! Please stop!
Morgan didn’t look cruel as he did it. He didn’t gloat. He was justlike Alec, trapped in the system Rick had created. But he needed to win, just as Alec had.
I remember screaming as he drew his arm back. Alec’s eyes opened for a second and I thought he looked at me.
Then Morgan’s fist smashed against the side of his head and he fell to the floor.
8
SYLVIE
There wasno moment of victory for Morgan. Rick didn’t come and hold his fist aloft and proclaim him the new champion. The crowd fell quiet—they could sense that things had gone very badly wrong. Rick’s fighters weren’t supposed to lose, not on their home turf. Especially when he’d been betting on them.
Morgan slunk past me with an apologetic glance. Al finally let me go and I ran to Alec’s body. He was slumped on his back, his legs bent awkwardly.Shit. Shit! Should I move him? Not move him? Is he breathing? “ALEC!”
No response. But I could see a hint of movement in his chest. He was still alive—just.
The crowd was clearing out fast, now the entertainment was over. I heard the distinctive rattle and clang of Rick descending the stairs. As he approached, I spoke without looking up. “Have you called 911? We need to get him to the hospital….” I looked up, expecting to see...notapology,not from Rick. But concern. Regret.
What I got was something else altogether.
“Wake up!”screamed Rick. His cane sliced through the air and hit Alec’s leg only a few inches from where my hand was resting. I heard the snap as the bone broke.
Alec jerked but didn’t open his eyes. I flung myself instinctively off him and crawled to one side, my arms up to protect myself.
“You cost me twenty grand, you weak little fuck!”yelled Rick. Oh Christ—he was even more coked up than before.
My brain was trying to come to terms with what I was hearing. How could he blameAlec?But this was Rick. Someone else was always to blame.
“It—It wasn’t his fault,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “The other guy was ex-Army or something. I saw the tattoo.” I looked towards Alec. “Please, Rick—we have to get him to hospital.”
Rick ignored my plea completely. He rounded on his bodyguards. “Itoldyou to check that guy out!” he bawled to Al. “Isaidthere was something wrong about him.”
The bodyguards were smart enough to nod apologetically, even though I was betting they’d had no part in picking Morgan. More likely Rick had chosen him himself during a coke-fueled binge.
Alec’s breathing was growing weaker. I crawled back to him and put my arms around his neck, drawing him close. “Please,Rick!”
