“I said you was good,” he repeats in an even calmer tone.
“And I’m telling you I’m not!”
“I ain’t asking. I’mtellingyou that you good. Look at me.”
I’m so stupid that I actually do it.
Our eyes touch and then dance together—grazing one another and pulling back until he smiles and I forget about the hot pain surging through my body. I can’t even feel his hand on my skin anymore.
“You balling that up ‘cause you gon’ use it?” he asks, nodding to the left side of my body.
My eyes shoot down to my clenched fist hanging next to his face.
“No,” I rasp out.
He smiles bigger and shakes his head as I uncurl my fingers from my hand.
“Dry your face off. Big dogs get knocked down sometimes. You still got heart, though. You still tough, mama.”
I swipe the other tears from my cheek and suck in a deep breath that hurts.
“Did his stupid ass take you to a doctor?” he asks with his hand still pressed against the bruise.
“No.”
“He was too scared?”
“Uh-huh,” I whine.
I can’t tell Rich about how hard AJ always cried after our fights, or that I was always the one picking up the pieces afterward because I always saw the tortured little boy who still lived inside of him. So, I’d clean myself up, wipe his tears, and reassure him I wouldn’t dare put his career in jeopardy, but I think Rich already knows all of this just like he knows all the other ugly things about me.
“It’s your rib. It ain’t broken—just bruised.” He presses my sore rib one more time as if he wants to be sure.
I bask in the way his calloused hand scrapes against my skin and I think I’m used to the pain now, or maybe I’m just too consumed with Rich’s touch to focus on it anymore.
“Jeez, thank you, Dr. Lovelace,” I reply, dropping my head and snorting.
“You’re welcome, smartass.”
“I guess youwouldknow the difference between a bruise and a break, huh? I imagine broken and bruised ribs happen a lot at thatillicitplace you work at.”
He smirks.
“So did you break your ribs the same way you broke your jaw? That pretend girl you told me about socked you in ‘em?” I smirk, anticipating the pain that still hasn’t reappeared. “Or some of those crazy guys down at Lucky’s got the best of you?”
His eyes meet mine. “It was the girl. It’s always her. She a bully, ya’ know? She ain’t do it with her fist, though. She crushed ‘em with some Maison Margiela boots.”
I sputter out a laugh. “You’re really annoying.”
I bite into my lip, eyeing the coarse waves in his hair. “So… when will I feel better since you’re such an expert?”
He shrugs, finally pulling his hand off me, leaving me to look back at AJ’s carnage.
“Bruised ribs heal over time. A doctor can’t do much besides give you some ibuprofen. The main thing you need to do is keep breathing.”
I cock my head to the side, biting my tongue until he snorts out a laugh and pushes up from the ring. “That wasn’t no generic advice.”
“How do I know that?”
