After what feels like a lifetime, Johnny finally leads me out of the cage and back to the dressing rooms, where he proceeds to push me into a chair and wave at somebody.
Carl arrives with a first-aid kit and pulls a chair beside me.
“That was a good fight,” Johnny says. “You’re a fine one, kid. Maybe you shouldn’t be here.”
That irritates me. “And where should I be?”
He shrugs. “Legal fighting. Boxing or whatever strikes your fancy. I’m sure your dad—”
“Leave my dad out of this,” I snap.
“He’d want you to be a professional.”
I’m too tired for this conversation. “He never cared about me one way or another, and I doubt he’ll start now.”
Carl gives me a pad of gauze to press to my bleeding lip and I take it, wiping the blood from my chin.
“Okay, whatever you say.” Johnny lifts his hands. “It’s your life on the line, boy. Be here tomorrow, same time.”
I nod as he walks away. The crowd is cheering again. The next fight has to be starting.
I get dressed, snatch my small wad of money and drag my sorry ass out into the cold.
Chapter Fifteen
Audrey
Mom stays until the next day. I hate to admit it, but I can’t wait for her to go, so I can drop by Zane’s and check on Ash.
He won’t answer the phone. I called until late at night, and then again in the morning—the apartment phone, then his cell phone.
Where is he? Is he avoiding me? Or did he go out last night and forgot his cell?
As soon as Mom leaves, with promises to call me later and visit next month, I run out of the apartment and head straight to Zane’s. It’s midday, so I stop by my favorite Japanese take-out place and get some food.
Now I have an excuse to visit him.
I ring the doorbell and wait, jumping from foot to foot. Wait some more. Ring again. The plastic bag with the food cuts into my palm.
He’s avoiding me. It’s official.
I knock on the door with my fist. “Ash! It’s me, Audrey. Are you there?”
Disappointment presses on my chest like a stone and I’m about to turn about and go, when I hear a sound.
Footsteps? And a crash.
God, what’s happening?
Then the door unlatches and opens, revealing Ash. A battered-looking Ash, his lip split, his chin and jaw bruised black, his eyes bloodshot.
“Ash?” My heart stutters. I’m horrified. “Was that...? Did you...?”
He blinks at me, looking confused. “Did I what?”
“Go back home. Did you dad do that?”
His eyes narrow, and he pulls back. “Nah. Wasn’t him.”