We drink our coffee together, and it’s surprisingly comfortable. Percy doesn’t try to fill it with small talk, he just sits there quiet and alert, occasionally glancing at the window.
“Does he do this a lot? Send you places?”
He stares into his cup. “He looks out for me. The least I can do is help him when he needs a favor.”
My brain latches onto his words.He looks out for me.
“What’s he gotta look out for you for?” I keep my voice light.
Percy shifts in his seat. “I don’t know. Stuff.”
“Stuff. That’s descriptive.”
“He told me not to talk about it.”
“That’s kind of his thing, huh?” I take a sip of my coffee. “But I’m not just anyone, you know? I’m his best friend’s girl.”
“Who’s his best friend?”
I freeze mid-sip.
“Art.”
Percy laughs like I just told a joke.
“What’s so funny?”
“Mr. Penngrove is Lance’s best friend?”
I scrunch my nose at him being called something so proper. “You’re not from here, then?”
“Nope, I’m just here while they train me up and—”
My breath catches, and Percy stops like he just said something he wasn’t supposed to.
“You’re a fighter.”
“Trying to be.”
“Percy.” I lean forward. “Does Art know about this? About you?”
He shrugs, but it’s too stiff to be casual. “He handles the money, the schedules. He’s the one who told me when to show up for my first session with Lance.”
The room tilts, just slightly.
Art scheduled this kid’s training. Art is the one coordinating the logistics of an eighteen-year-old learning to cage fight.
“But Art’s not—he’s not like the people in charge, right?” I ask. “He’s just…managing?”
Percy looks at me with those innocent eyes, and it feels like he’s trying to figure out how much I know, how much he’s allowed to say, how much trouble he’ll be in if Lance finds out he talked.
Or maybe Art.
Nausea surges through me.
“Art’s a good guy,” he says. “He tries to make it easier for us. Gets us food, makes sure we see the doctor after. But he’s…he’s in it. You know? Just from a different seat.”
I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I can. I’m too busy trying to figure out how I didn’t know that the man I moved here to be with had gotten so involved in the underground of things.
