“You think I’m letting him walk out of here?” Rick asked. He brandished his cane. “After what he cost me? I got another fight in a month and no one to put on!” He suddenly swung the cane down again, hitting Alec’s ankle, this time. There was a sickening crunch.
I threw myself across my brother’s legs. “Please!Please, no more!”
Rick’s face darkened even more. He was angrier than I’d ever seen him. I saw, to my horror, that even his bodyguards were backing away.He’s out of control.“You’d better move,” he told me. “Unless you want this cane shoved up you.”
I wasn’t crying. I was too scared to cry. He was going to kill Alec. He was going to rip my one remaining piece of family away from me. “Please!”
“He’s better off dead,” said Rick. “If he can’t fight, he’s worthless to me.” He twirled the cane and then raised it over his head. “Get the fuck out of the way.”
I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t move. I knew that me being there wouldn’t stop him. I knew that he’d just swing that cane straightdown and batter his way through me, again and again, until he hit Alec. But I couldn’t leave my brother to die. I hugged Alec’s legs and tensed my whole body, waiting for the pain to hit. I searched for something, anything, to say that would stop this. And as the cane whistled down, my brain finally came up with two words.
“I’ll fight!”I screamed.
The end of the cane smacked into the concrete an inch from my head. For a few seconds, the only sound in the room was the eerie ringing of it.
“What?” asked Rick. He sounded genuinely puzzled.
I was still pressed against Alec’s body. I could feel his breathing—God, so weak.I gingerly raised myself up and twisted around to face Rick. “I’ll fight,” I said again. This time, the words actually registered in my brain.
One of the bodyguards started to laugh.
“I’ll fight, here in The Pit,” I said. “Put me on instead of Alec. I’ll fight whoever you want.”
Rick looked at me with something between disgust and fascination. “You?”He looked at his two bodyguards for help. Al was laughing. Carl just looked amazed.
“Please,” I said. Now the tears had started. I could feel them rolling down my cheeks. “Please. Let me—Let me fight.”
Rick’s forehead wrinkled. “Agirlfight?”
“A catfight,” said Al, grinning cruelly.
Rick considered. Then he lifted his cane and poked it under my chin. He used it to lift my head and turn it, examining me from all sides. I let him. “You’ve never fought in your life, have you?” he asked.
I shook my head.
He squatted down so that he was on my level. “That crowd up there wantsblood,”he told me. “That isn’t going to change, with two women. Whoever I get to fight you is going to beat the living crap out of you.” He leaned closer. “It goes on until someone can’t get up.You know what that means?”
I nodded slowly. Every loser got beaten unconscious, but death was always a risk. Even Alec had come out of this fight barely alive—he still might die. For me—small, fragile and untrained—the ending would be inevitable.
If I lost, I was going to die.
I looked down at Alec. My tears were leaving dark, spreading pools on his tank top, mixing with the blood from his wounds.
“I understand,” I said. “I’ll do it. I’ll fight.”
9
AEDAN
I could have riddenthe train all the way back to Newark. Hell, I could have gotten a cab—I was okay for money, since I didn’t have much of anything to spend it on. But I like walking. No one bothers you, walking at night. Not if you look like me.
So I got off a few stops early and walked past the industrial parks and the docks, past walls of shipping containers taller than buildings and past black water as still and calm as glass.
My apartment block’s lousy for just about everything—no nearby stores, no nightlife. Half the apartments are empty, some with broken windows. No one in their right mind would want to rent there. Which is exactly why I liked it. No neighbors, no visitors. Everyone left me alone.
Upstairs, I opened the windows to try to let in some air—the air conditioning broke a long time ago. But there was barely a breath of wind.
I settled for a shower, cranking the spray up hard and cold and letting it blast against my body, foaming and hissing against my chest and then my back. Cold showers were a boxing thing, a good way of helping swollen muscles to heal. I hadn’t needed that for a long time. I’d kept in shape, still went to the same gym, but I hadn’t felt thatburn and ache that comes from really using your body. Working out isn’t like fighting, in the same way cruising in your car on the freeway isn’t like a race.
