Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95906 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
King and I had watched helplessly as the system had dragged its feet and ultimately started making our own plans. By the time the foster system had agreed to the transplant, Lex’s condition had deteriorated so much that the state’s insurance wouldn't cover the costly procedure.
Lex had accepted his fate.
King and I hadn't.
From the moment we’d learned how dire Lex’s condition was, King and I had started saving every dollar we could get our hands on, but with nothing more than GEDs under our belts and a couple of minimum wage odd jobs between us, those extra dollars had been few and far between. We’d been forced to get creative.
“I got my half of the money fighting,” I said. “The prizes were shit at first, but the more guys I took on, the more I started to earn.”
“I figured that was why you were beat to hell all the time,” King muttered. He sounded angry but I knew it wasn’t directed at me. Knowing my brother, he would have done anything in his power to keep me safe.
I glanced at King and once again wondered what he'd done to get his part of the money. I thought back to those days when we’d shared the shitty little one-room apartment in Hunts Point. In the month that it'd taken us to raise the money, we’d never talked about what the other was doing to get the cash. We hadn't wanted to talk about it.
“Last fight was worth ten grand. It was just enough to get my half.”
“Your opponent was Brady Fox,” King said quietly.
I might've nodded, but I wasn't really sure. I was back in that moment when I stepped into the ring, certain of my victory.
“I could tell he wanted it just as bad as I did,” I began. “I didn't care what his reasons were. I didn't care that he brought his eight-year-old brother with him. I didn’t wonder about the bruises on his face…or his little brother’s. I couldn't…” I said with a shake of my head. “I couldn't care about any of that.”
“No, you couldn't,” King agreed.
If anyone got it, it would be King. It was why we never spoke about what we’d done to get the money for Lex's operation.
Because we’d had no choice.
As kids, we hadn’t always walked the straight and narrow, but we hadn't used our childhoods to make excuses for the men we were becoming. We hadn’t been angels, but we’d never done anything to make our little brother ashamed of us, either. But faced with the prospect of losing Lex, all bets had been off.
“The crowd got what they paid for,” I continued. “Brady was good.”
“But not good enough,” King offered.
I shook my head. “When it was over and he was down for the count, it wasn’t enough for the crowd.” I grimaced. “All those rich people in their fancy clothes covered in specks of my and Brady's blood wasn't enough for them. They wanted more.”
“They wanted you to finish him.”
I felt sick even as King said the words. I’d seen a lot of cruel shit in my life, but that night had taken the cake. Seemingly respectable people dressed in clothes I could only dream of one day being able to afford yelling obscenities at Brady and ordering me to inflict even more damage… enough to put him down and keep him there.
“I refused to give in to the crowd's demand for more. Those fuckers were actually disappointed when I was declared the winner. I didn't give a shit. I started to leave the ring to claim my cash, but then I heard this cry. It sounded like someone trying to yell no. It was enough to have me turning around.” I shook my head. “If it hadn’t been for that voice…”
It wasn't until King murmured, “What happened, Con?” that I realized I’d fallen silent.
“Brady was coming at me with a knife. He managed to clip me with it,” I said as my fingers tightened even more on the steering wheel. Even now, I could feel the scar on my upper arm burning.
“The crowd went crazy. They were getting the fight they wanted. Weapons were the only thing that were never allowed in those matches because that would be too easy, you know? I saw that blade and he wasn't just some guy I was fighting anymore. He was…”
A fog crept over my brain and I could feel the long fingers of the past trying to pull me back into it.
“I get it, Con,” King murmured.
I was grateful at King's words because even if I’d wanted to, I couldn’t tell him about who Brady had become in that moment.
“I wasn't me anymore. They actually had to pull me off of him, King,” I admitted. “Crowd got their show. As they closed in around me, I could see him through the gaps in the crowd… his little brother. But I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t. When they finally pulled me off him, Brady was still breathing, but he was barely recognizable anymore. The crowd left him there as they celebrated my victory. They just left him like he was nothing. Didn’t matter that his kid brother was fucking crying his eyes out and begging someone to help him as he tried to wake Brady up.”