“Ruby, you could get hurt. I can’t stomach that. All the money in the world isn’t worth you risking yourself.”
“I’m doing this for us, and for Raven. I’ll never get her back if I can’t show I’m responsible.”
“Do you think fighting in a dump like this is responsible? This idea is as bad as the one I had to work for my pimp.”
“We need to eat. I just don’t know what else to do. I can’t sit around the streets, begging for money. Like you said, we can put money away.” Some days, I collected five dollars, but other days, I received nothing. I blinked away a tear. “I’ll be fine,” I lied. If I was going up against a girl twice my size, I didn’t stand a chance. Then again, the way the adrenaline was coursing through my body, I might be able to wield a good punch or two, maybe even to the point where I could knock out my opponent. I blew out a breath. I could do this. I was a ballet dancer after all. Then I broke out in hysterics.
Norma cocked her head. “What’s so funny?”
Ballet and fighting were vastly different. I didn’t know a darn thing about bobbing or weaving, but Kross had always told me that ballet and boxing were very similar. “You dance to music. I dance around boxers. Both are about footwork,” he’d said. Argh! Kross Maxwell. Since Raven was born, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Kross. Every time she smiled, it was like Kross was smiling back at me.
My laughter turned into tears. I dropped down onto the dirt floor and hugged my knees to my chest.
Norma joined me, draping her arm around me. “Hey, you don’t have to do this.”
“It’s not the fight. Well, it is sort of. Raven’s daddy boxed. All week, I’ve been thinking of him, and how I used to watch him dance around boxers in the gym at school.”
“Aw, honey. Why don’t you try and find him? You know he might be the key to getting Raven back.”
I shook my head vigorously. “Absolutely not. He can’t ever know about her.”
“He’s her father,” Norma said softly.
“I don’t want him to see me like this. Besides, he didn’t want to be bothered when I called him a thousand times. He left me like I was the scum of the earth. Besides, before I’m ready for her to meet her father, I need to have my life in order.” I would die if Kross saw me now. My skin was pallid, as though I walked among the dead. I had dirty hair and nails, and I didn’t feel pretty at all.
Tommy strutted in, looking as greasy as ever. “What’s going on? You’re not backing out, are you, Ruby?”
Norma and I jumped to our feet.
I wiped my eyes. “No.” I tried to sound sure and strong. I couldn’t keep feeling sorry for myself. I had to take control of my life, and if that meant physically fighting, then I would put everything I had into it.
“Good. Good,” he said. “The crowd is off the hook tonight.”
I could hear the voices in the distance.
“How much is the pot worth?” Norma asked.
Tommy swung his dark gaze between us.
Norma stuck her hands on her hips. “If you so much as—”
I took hold of her hand. “Tommy, I’m not doing this for three hundred dollars. I saw how that girl got her face bashed in last week. I also know you make fifteen thousand dollars on a fight.”
He grinned, but it turned into a snarl. “Eavesdropping on me? Not cool.”
“I want a thousand if I win.” I would’ve said more, but I had to be realistic with a thug like Tommy.
He pursed his lips. “I like your feistiness. But I can’t agree to that.”
“Then I’m out of here.” I wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I recalled the conversation between Tommy and some man when I was hiding in the dumpster last week. The man had said, “Just make sure she shows. I’ll be taking your nuts if she doesn’t.” I wasn’t the she the man had referenced, but I had an inkling that if I walked out, Tommy would be without a fighter, which meant he would lose money.
Norma beamed from ear to ear as we headed for the door.
“Wait,” Tommy said. “Eight hundred.”
“Higher,” Norma whispered in my ear.
“Nine hundred fifty,” I countered, tossing a look over my shoulder.
Tommy’s tone dropped. “You’re not in any position to barter.”
“You’re not in any position for me to walk out.” I wasn’t sure if that were true.
He narrowed his dark eyes. “Nine hundred.”
I exchanged a questioning look with Norma, and she nodded.
“Deal,” I said.
“You got five minutes before show time.” He stormed out.
“He must think you have a shot at winning.” Norma darted her tongue over her lip ring. “Otherwise, I’m not sure he would’ve agreed to that much money.”
“He agreed to my demand because his ass would be toast if I bailed. Besides, I have no shot. I’m fighting some big girl named Vickie.”
“Do you know for sure?” Norma’s hair was styled into a short bob, but she always tucked it behind her ears when she got nervous, just like she was doing now.
I’d assumed I was. Tommy had asked if I could take Vickie. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. If I win, we’ll get nine hundred dollars.” Thinking about that amount of money sparked my adrenaline to new heights.
Norma helped me out of my coat. When the cold air hit me, goose bumps popped up along my bare arms. Then she smoothed a hand over my ragged T-shirt.
I shivered again. “I’m fighting. I’m not walking down a runway.”
“So sue me. I’m nervous. Where’s your hair tie?” She searched my jacket pockets and found a hair band. “Put your hair up. You don’t want the girl to be pulling on it.”
I twisted my oily hair up onto my head.
“Make sure you block your pretty face, and use anything you remember from watching Raven’s daddy box.”
“Did you have to bring him up?” In the time we had known each other, I hardly talked about Kross. Norma had caught me looking at his picture one night. So I told her he was Raven’s daddy. But that was it. When she’d probed further, I shut her down by changing the subject. Regardless, maybe she was right. Maybe I could use a move or two that Kross had once done in the ring.
She pinched my cheeks. “Get loose.”
I snorted. “Who are you? My coach?”
“I never told you this, but I was a long-distance runner in high school. Before every run, my coach would say, ‘get loose.’ I’m sure you stretched before you danced.”
Of course, warm-ups were a routine before every ballet performance. But I was more skilled at ballet than boxing, and no amount of stretching would ease the tension in my body. Instead, I bounced on my feet, a move I had seen when I watched a boxing match with my dad. I’d even seen the move from Kross while he was waiting for the coach to start the fight.
The door opened. “It’s time,” Tommy said.
Norma rubbed her hands up and down my arms. “Kick some butt out there.”
Before I got myself worked up or backed out of the deal, I marched out of the room and into a hallway. Norma hurried to my side and grabbed my shaky hand. She squeezed lightly. Tommy strutted on the other side of me. Within twenty feet, we stopped at a metal door.
“So, am I fighting that Vickie girl?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said, ushering us in.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or even more frightened.
People were packed into the room like sardines. I waved off the thick cigar and cigarette smoke that floated in the air. Once I got my bearings, I zeroed in on the girl just inside the door. She was the same one Vickie had had a field day with. Her face was black and blue, but I didn’t get the vibe that she was scared. If anything, she looked angry.
Tommy introduced us before heading into the ring. “Ruby, meet your opponent, Mel.”
I didn’t know if we were supposed to shake, but I extended my hand anyway. She glanced at it then turned her head as if I was beneath her.
Whatever
. The less I knew of her, the easier it might be to smack her around the ring, especially if she cowered in a corner like she’d done against Vickie. The tightness in my stomach lessened. It might be an easy nine hundred dollars. It wasn’t enough to get an apartment, but we could get a cheap hotel room for the night. Then Norma and I could shower, eat, and sleep in a bed for once.
Tommy held up his hands then pushed them down. “Quiet.”
Within a second, the boisterous voices died.
“Hopefully, you’ve placed your bets. We have a newbie here tonight. I know how you like newbies. I think she’ll give Mel a run for her money.”
“If Mel doesn’t fight tonight, this should be an easy win,” someone said. “My bet is on the newbie.”
“Asshole,” Mel murmured next to me.
Suddenly, my pulse went haywire. Mel, the scared girl with blue streaks through her blond hair and bruises dotting her delicate face, was not so innocent. Then I remembered something. A man I’d been standing next to while watching Mel and Vickie had said, “Some shy girls have so much adrenaline and anger, they can beat the shit out of the larger opponents.” I wasn’t larger than Mel by any means. If anything, we were both the same height, and we both had small frames. But she had one advantage over me—anger. I wasn’t nearly as enraged as she was at the moment. Besides, I was banking on keeping my cool. Maybe then I could fight strategically.
Norma’s cold hand touched my arm. “You can do this.”
I rolled my shoulders back. If I backed out, Tommy wouldn’t be pleased. In fact, he might skin me alive if he had money on the line. Still, all the money in the world wouldn’t stop my stomach from churning like a whirlpool.
“Go.” Norma nudged me. “He’s calling your name.”
I zeroed in on the here and now to find that Mel was already in the ring beside Tommy, who had an evil look on his face. I shuffled through a group of old men. One patted me on the back. Another slapped me on the butt. I almost hauled off and kicked him but decided to reserve my energy for Mel.
“No rules,” Tommy said once I was in the ring. “You fight until one of you gets knocked out. Shake.”
We bumped fists as if we were seasoned fighters.
“I love this shit,” Tommy mumbled as he walked away.
As soon as he left the ring, Mel came at me. Her fists were wild as though she was possessed. I shuffled, sidestepped, then ducked.
Whistles then shouts sang around the room. “Hit her already,” yelled one man.
I danced around her. My footwork was sloppy. It had been a long time since I had even tried to practice any of my ballet moves. I nearly laughed. I was in an illegal underground fight with no clue about what I was supposed to do.
Mel was still swinging. I was still stumbling.
“Fight,” Tommy said.
I threw a punch at air.
Mel laughed. “Pathetic.”
I was trying to wrap my head around how much she’d changed since the previous week. Screw that. Worry about your ass. Fight.
She jabbed, her knuckles connecting with my cheekbone. Stars floated in front of my vision as I returned a punch to her nose. Pain shot up my arm. It hurt more to punch someone than to be hit. I went at her again but missed. She reared back, snarling. Whoa! This couldn’t have been the same meek girl from the week before.
“What?” she asked as we both glided around each other. “Shocked I’m not the same girl you tried to get to fight last week? Well, thanks to you, I got off my ass. I won that fight.”
Great, I’d helped her. Now she was going to beat my pathetic butt. Weave, bob and dance, I repeated. I always tire my opponent out, Kross had said.
“Come on, Ruby,” Tommy shouted from somewhere close by. “I got money on you.”
You have nine hundred dollars on the line. Nine hundred, my inner voice blared.
“Sucks that the tables are turned,” Mel said. “Not so brave now, are you?”
The decibel level was deafening. Not to mention, the pain gripping my face was disorienting. Stay focused on Mel. Don’t waver. The moment you do, she’ll knock you out.
Her fists came at me. I ducked then punched. She bobbed her head to the left. I swung out with my right fist as I rammed my left into her stomach.
She bent over for a second then glared at me, nostrils flaring.
“See, I’m a fast learner. Unlike you.” I had no business getting cocky, but the adrenaline was overpowering and energizing.
Growling, she lunged forward. She extended her right hand, and her fist crashed into my eye.
Pain exploded. Okay, maybe it hurt more to be hit. I shook my head as I winced and wobbled.
The crowd began to chant. “Hit her again, Mel, before she recovers.”
As I blinked, her fist came around and rammed square into my jaw. I stumbled backward. Before I could center myself, she kicked me in the gut. The air left my lungs. My vision blurred as I held my stomach.
“Come on, Ruby,” Norma yelled. “Win this fight.”
“Nine hundred dollars,” I muttered as I shook off the dizziness.
“You can always walk away,” Mel said in a snarky tone.
I punched out, hitting her just above her left eye, drawing blood. I swung repeatedly, connecting with her jaw, her head, and her face. She returned jab after jab to my nose and anywhere on my face she could get to. The pain ricocheted as though I’d touched a live wire of electricity. Blood trickled down my upper lip. My right eye was cloudy, or maybe it was swollen. I tried to open it as I continued to exchange blows with Mel.
I stepped back to catch my breath and regroup. I used the sleeve of my T-shirt to clear the blood from my face. Mel rolled her neck one way then the other.
The voices in the room droned.
Then she dove at me. Before I had a chance to move, she plunged her fist into my stomach in the same spot she’d landed a kick earlier. I dropped to my knees, blowing out air. Pain or no pain, I had to win the nine hundred dollars. So, I planted two hands on the floor and pushed upright. My adrenaline burned through me at the sight of her bloody grin. I sneered, swore, and went at her, wailing my fists like a madwoman, hitting at nothing but air.
“Damn it, Ruby,” a familiar voice shouted. “Put her lights out already.” His voice was whiskey smooth—a voice that brought back memories of rolling green lawns, cozy bonfires, and dancing under the stars.
I whipped my head in all directions, searching every face in the crowd. I settled my gaze on Norma, who was wide-eyed. As I did, Mel’s fist caught my temple. The room began to darken, and the voices dimmed. I crumpled to the dirt floor. Then blackness.
Chapter Five
Kross
My mouth was permanently opened as I watched a waif of a girl run to Ruby’s side and tap on her face. I wasn’t sure I could move. I hadn’t seen Ruby since the tenth grade, and I wasn’t sure the girl in this dingy, disgusting dive was even her. Her auburn hair was darker than I remembered. She looked as though she hadn’t eaten in months or years. Her features were drawn and hollow, and her clothes were ratty as if she’d lived in them for weeks.
“Is that your Ruby?” Dillon asked.
My Ruby was supposed to be in some posh ballet school in New York. “Pretty sure.” What the fuck was she doing in an underground fight?
Dillon’s friend Tommy spoke to the crowd. “Make sure you collect your winnings.” Then he doted on Mel as she smiled, wiping her swollen face with her tank top.
The room began to clear. Some stragglers hung back, talking, cutting up, and laughing. I wasn’t laughing. In fact, I’d been on edge for two days. It seemed everywhere I turned, I hit a wall. Mark Rayburn hadn’t called me back. Kelton had struck out on all counts in trying to obtain information about a drug bust four years ago up in the Berkshires, and Dillon’s contact, whom we’d spoken to only two hours ago, hadn’t been any help. So we’d ended up in this dive. Dillon had wanted to chat with Tommy about money that Tommy owed him. I’d wanted to start visiting
prisons to find Ruby’s old man. I was glad I’d stuck with Dillon. Never in a million years would I have thought Ruby would be fighting. Maybe it was fate. Whatever the fuck it was, I wasn’t complaining. It was time to get answers.
The blond girl at Ruby’s side was petting Ruby’s hair, much like one would do with a cat or dog.
Dillon slapped me on the back, jarring me from my zombie state. “Let’s check things out.”
We brushed past two men dressed in tailored suits. Both reminded me of high-powered businessmen on Wall Street. The one with a bulbous nose said, “I’ll check with her pimp.”
Dillon came to an abrupt halt, fisting his hands at his sides. The word “pimp” was vile in his book. He believed a pimp had lured his baby sister into a world where she didn’t belong.
I wrapped a hand around his tense bicep. “Let it go, man.” We weren’t there to get into brawls or start trouble. I couldn’t afford trouble. I was under a magnifying glass by Coach Jay and the media.
There had been an article in the Boston Herald recently about me taking a dive in my last fight. The sports columnist had torn me apart in his recent write-up. “How does a fighter go from a practically perfect record to giving away the fight? Kross Maxwell wasn’t in it to win. I would suspect he was paid to throw the fight.”
I growled. I’d never take money to lose in boxing or any game. Since then, Coach had counseled me to walk the straight line, especially when he found out that I’d ended up at the police station back in March with Dillon, Kelton, and Lizzie. Coach had overheard a conversation between Mark and me when Mark was working out at the gym. I wished Coach had dismissed the incident, but with Gail Freeman’s potential contract hanging in the balance, he’d ridden my ass every day for the last two months. He was making me train as though I would never be good enough to win a fight again.
The Maxwell Series Boxed Set - Books 4-6 Page 5