“Asher’s,” I groan, my head falling back against the seat. I’m still living with him, so if I need medical assistanceanda verbal lashing from my roommate, might as well just go home.
I groan, “Did you guys grab my stuff?”
“Already in the trunk.” Mario nods. I relax, but I can barely see him through the blood dripping into my eyes and the darkness. Maybe I should just stop fighting the darkness.
“How much did we make?” I sigh quietly, breathing shallowly and holding my ribs.
“At least three grand.”
“Good,” I nod, but that hurts too. My fingers trace the black, worn leather cord tied to my wrist. Somehow, my fingers always find it and I can’t deny that it brings me comfort.
Something I need now.
Not just because of the pain I’m in, but because Iswear I saw her.But then she was gone and the pain of that flares in my chest, even as I’m losing the fight against sleep.
“No, no, Ty. Don’t fall asleep.”
“Just a minute,” I slur.
“Fuck!” I hear Mario hiss right before I pass out.
“What the fuck? Why didn’t I know he was fighting tonight, Mario?” I hear Asher growl at my brother, muttering obscenities under his breath and I cry out as he tightens his grip on my bad leg. “Fuck, this is bad guys. This is why I got out! It’s not fucking worth our lives. We’re all so goddamn stupid and it’s infuriating. What were you thinking? What washethinking? Oh good, you’re awake.”
Asher doesn’t sound happy to see me.
“After we had to carry you up three flights of stairs. Your ass isn’t light.” Asher rolls his eyes and gets back to work.
“How bad is it?” I swallow, trying to get some moisture into my mouth. It feels like I’ve licked the desert.
“Split eyebrow that will need at least two stitches, broken nose, four broken fingers, three broken ribs, a leg that looks like it’s bending the wrong way. Definitely a concussion. A nasty fucking one. You’ve been passed out for too long, Ty. I’m worried we’re talking brain damage. Not to mention you’re covered in bruises and cuts. Did this guy have brass knuckles on?” Asher frets over me as he wipes the blood from my body and I see just how much is on the rag he wiped over me. “We should go to the hospital.”
“No. No hospitals. We can’t afford it.” I try to sit up, but it hurts so much I get dizzy. “Oh fuck.”
“Yeah, ‘oh, fuck’,” Asher snaps. “What were you thinking? You could have died.”
“That I’d make a shit-ton of money. Money for the family and for the shop. Moneywe needto get out of this shithole.” I leanback, resting my head on the soft pillow under my neck. “And I did. Don’t get high and mighty on me, Asher. You and I both know you’ve done some stupid shit to stay afloat.”
“Not atthismuch of an expense of my life,” he grumbles. “Mario told me that you asked to bump up a weight division. Stupid. You’re going to have a concussion and the side effects of it for a long fucking time. Dumbass.”
“I’m fine, it’s fine. Stop mother-henning me.” I wave him off, but out of the corner of my eye I see the needle and thread. “You couldn’t have done that while I was passed out?”
Getting stitches hurts more than I think it should.
“I figured if you felt the stitches, maybe you wouldn’t do this shit again.”
“Asher,” I say through gritted teeth and glare at him. “Leave it be.”
“Fine. I just want to say this though. You’re my best friend. My brother. Tonight scared me man. You weren’t responding at all in the car. I haven’t seen you like that before. Then I find out it’s because you tried to fight someone out of your weight group? Not cool. Fighting in The Underground is fucking dangerous and I don’t think you’re thinking things through. We will figure out how to get the money for the shop. It’s not worth your life. I don’t think I’d be able to move past losing you too,” he grumbles, and picks up the needle before flicking a lighter on, burning it to sanitize.
I’m quiet, trying to take in what he’s saying. Asher doesn’t go around expressing himself like that–neither do I–so the fact that he is, says this was the nail in the coffin for him. It was too scary, too close and that scares me.
“This is going to hurt.”
“Just do it already,” I say through gritted teeth and grip the side of the couch so tightly I feel my knuckles split open again. The first pass of the needle fuckinghurts, probably more thanhow I actually got it. But I had my hormones covering up any light pain, pumping me full of drive to keep going and stay alive. Now, I know I’m safe, and so every single ache and pain is at the forefront of my mind.“Fucking hell, Asher. You’re making it hurt worse on purpose,”I groan in Spanish.
“Oh, shut up. You had your brother bring you here instead of going to a hospital, you have to grin and bear it,” Asher snaps, holding my eyebrow pinched together as he ties the first stitch.
“I thought you’d be a little nicer, bro,” I groan, trying not to flinch as he starts in on the second one.
