by Lexi Whitlow
“Another win for Long Shot!” Katy screams. Ash gives me water and leans in close.
“You okay kid?”
“Partially dislocated shoulder, I’m fucking betting,” I say. “Gonna hurt like hell.” The crowd is still cheering, and Ash leads me down, holds my right hand above my head. The flyweights—both of them probably sixteen, though Frank somehow reports them as eighteen—are in the cage now, and I can get the hell out of dodge. Frank spots me heading back to the locker room and hands me my money unceremoniously.
“Purse is light tonight.” I look down and count about three hundred dollars. If it were any other night, I’d give Frank a piece of my mind. I don’t fancy Frank putting his boot in my face and grinding the grit into my skin—he’s taken me by surprise and done it more than once when I questioned his authority. These days, he’s more likely to get someone else to do his dirty work for him, but he’s meaner than he ever has been. And that makes me sure as hell that I don’t want to fuck with him tonight. Not if I’m going to try to see Nat.
Like he’s reading my thoughts, I see Frank coming towards me from the corner of my eye. He’s got his button-down shirt on and that plastered on grin that I know he thinks looks cheerful. He claps me on the shoulder—fortunately not the one that’s likely dislocated. I try to smile back, but I’m betting it looks more like a grimace.
“Good job, kid. You like the purse tonight?” I nod and don’t respond. He knows damn well how I feel about it, but I ain’t trying to start anything, not when pain is starting to pulse through my entire body, threatening to knock me unconscious at any moment. “I said, you like the purse kid? You enjoy that fight?”
“Yeah, man. It was alright.” I pull away from him and keep my head down. I’d give anything to rise up and beat the shit out of this piece of trash, but sometimes, being in control of your body and mind is the highest form of domination. Not giving in to what he wants me to do. That’s what I need in this moment.
“I’ll see you in tomorrow?” Frank asks, catching my eye and staring hard.
“Naw, man. I need some time to get healed up.”
“We better see you around soon, Long Shot. Or I’ll find a way to make your life a living hell.” There’s nothing I can say that won’t be angry or sarcastic, so I shrug and pocket the money. Frank’s threats are usually empty, but I’ve seen him find ways to do exactly that.
I nod at Frank and turn to head outside. “I’ll be back next week sometime,” I say as nonchalantly as I can. I look back and see Ash, who strides past Frank and up to me, ushering me out of the door before Frank can say anything else.
“Hurt pretty bad? Need a ride somewhere? Preferably not the hospital?” I nod. I know I need the shoulder back in place. I know I need somewhere I can lay low for a week, or Frank’ll be pushing me for the next big thing. Frank’s made it clear that the hospital’s off limits—I’m betting I could get in and get out without the police getting involved.
“Natalie,” I mutter. The pain buzzes through me now, mixed with adrenaline. I put my hand to my knee and bend over, feeling a wave of dizziness, then squint my eyes and look up at Ash. “Take me to the island, the old house.”
Ash looks at me sideways. “You sure?”
“I’m sure,” I say. “I got an excuse now, Ash. It’ll all work out fine.”
“If you say so, kid. Frank’ll be pissed as shit when he realizes you’ve left the peninsula. He wants you to be training now and honestly—”
“Ash, I’m hurt bad. Get me to Natalie’s now. She’s the only one who can fix it without taking me to the fucking hospital. And Frank would like that even less than me being away. I’ll be back in a coupla days. She’ll probably kick me the fuck out after she stitches me up.”
“Whatever you say Joshie.” I look back as we walk out of the gym. Frank is watching us with an evil flash in his dark eyes.
“I’ll be back soon,” I shout back to Frank, stumbling out into the night before the man can say anything in response. Ash grips me tight and helps me into his truck. I’m already hurting pretty damn bad, and even though I know seeing Nat is a damn bad idea, I know Ash will take me there. He has to.
I’m hobbled and limping, broken to the bone, but I won, and I got the goddamn purse. Every bit helps me pay back Ash, and every bit helps me get to the point where I can conquer all that I’ve been fighting against.
By the time Ash starts driving, my shoulder and ribs feel like they’re on fire. Not even Nat would turn me away like this.
Find Long Shot right here!
Other Books by Lexi Whitlow:
Long Shot
About the Author:
Lexi Whitlow is a small-town girl from Virginia. She spent her early years growing up between Virginia and North Carolina, playing in the dark rich dirt of Eastern North Carolina at her granddaddy's farm. She's a Southern girl at heart, and she spends her days chasing her five-year-old and her puggle and writing as much as she can between drop off and kindergarten pick-up.
The settings in Lexi’s books are all places that are near and dear to her heart—especially Manteo, North Carolina. She recommends you go and grab a beer there or book a spot on the pirate cruise if you’re ever in the Outer Banks.
She holds a master's degree in English literature from the University of Virginia, and her mom is so proud she's "using her degree."
Lexi harbors a not-so-secret love for bad boys. She loves fighters, tough-as-nails cowboys, bikers, and criminals. Her husband is a scientist... but he has the heart of a bad boy for sure.