Page 14

Chapter

Fourteen

BONES

I stared at the X-ray of my hand until it blurred into a mess of black and white.

The doctor blabbed on and on about fractured knuckles. Bruised muscles. Healing time. Minimums and maximums. Taking it easy. I heard absolutely none of it. My mind was too busy repeating the same thing over and over.

You’re a fucking dumbass, Bones. You’re letting them down.

I shouldn’t have been surprised. I’d always had shit luck. But man, the day after signing my backup “just in case”? Someone out there had it in for me. Part of me was glad I’d spoken up, but it was barely a blip in the overwhelming guilt I felt.

Now what? Pinstripe might have been the next man up, but he was horseshit. I’d faced him six times over the course of my underground career. Four times before my fall from grace and twice after my resurgence. I’d wiped the floor with him every time. And if I was struggling to make it in the Circuit?

Smiley’s Gym was about to plummet to the bottom of the bracket.

“—questions?”

I lifted my head and blinked at the old doctor. “Sorry?”

“Do you have any questions for me?”

Plenty, since I hadn’t been paying a lick of attention.

“How long do you think I'll take to heal?”

“Like I said, it’s four to six weeks without surgical treatment?—”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear doctor shit right now. Talk to me, man to man. How long will it take to heal?”

The doctor took off his glasses, and they dangled around his neck on a thin chain “You’re a healthy guy. X-rays show wear and tear on your body over the years, but you’ve healed well. I’d say about four. That’s if you take it easy and not use it at all. If not, you may require surgery.”

“And rehab?”

“To be back at boxing? A few weeks, just to be safe.” He eyed me like a disappointed father. “If you want my opinion man to man, here it is. Don’t jump back into boxing or you won’t have a career to jump back into. Take your resting and rehab seriously, kid. Health is wealth.”

“Sounds like doctor advice to me.”

Even my joke was flat. I wasn’t really in the mood for it. Six to seven weeks total. That was half the fucking Circuit. I was going to miss a good chunk of the entire thing and be lucky to make it back for the back end. Fuck me.

“If I was going to give you doctor advice, I’d tell you to eat some more apples. It keeps me away, after all.” He smiled. “Proper rest and hydration as well.”

“Sure, doc. I’ll remember that.”

“Good luck, Mr. Vega.”

“Not in this lifetime,” I said as he left me to rot in this sterile office.

A nurse came in to wrap my hand in a splint. While she worked, I dialed my dad. I just wanted to hear his voice right now. Dad always knew what to say when I was at my lowest, and right now, I was pretty damn low.

He picked up on the fourth ring.

“Bones! What’s up?”

“Nothing, Dad. Just finished a match.” And totally fucked everything up. “Did you happen to catch it?”

“Not this time, kiddo. I’m sorry. I had to head to the hospital. Now before you get on me, it’s just a regular check-up. Nothing big. One of the kids here—Luis, you remember him? The one with the mean right hook?—he took me. I’m fit as a fiddle.”

It was a lie. Not with his sickness and the way he’d left to spend the rest of his days in his motherland. But I chose to believe it anyway because right now, I needed good news.

“So, you’re going to get back in the ring soon?” I cracked.

“I’m thinking about starting a seniors’ league at La Suprema .” He laughed, but it turned into a heavy coughing fit. My heart lurched. The nurse had to hold on tighter to my hand when I started shaking. Dad drew a breath and yelled somewhere to the side, “Nemo, stop smoking around me, you asshole! How many times do I gotta tell you that?”

I swallowed. “Why don’t I come visit you, Dad? You’re in Mexico City, right? I’ll come down there, just to say hi.”

“Are you looking to hit the slots with me, Bones? I’ve made some pretty good money on that fake blackjack game.”

“Yeah, I remember you saying that.”

“I’m trying to save up to come see you, Bones. When Smiley’s makes it to Vegas. We can gamble at the best slots on the strip. So, no use visiting your old man just yet, okay?”

Tears burned hot in my eyes, and I blinked them away. I wanted to believe he could handle that, but then he started coughing again, and it shattered the small illusion I’d built a second ago.

“Sure. Sounds good, Dad. Just keep an eye on my matches, All right?”

“Won’t miss another one.”

I hung up without telling him the truth. Without telling him I wouldn’t be out there for a while. Guilt clung to me as cold as my sweat. What if he didn’t get to see me in another Circuit match? What if we didn’t make it to Vegas? What if he?—

“All done, Mr. Vega.” The nurse’s smile was kind as she stood. “Your friends are waiting for you in the lobby.”

“Thanks.”

The nurse left first, but I spent the next few minutes hyping myself up to go see the rest of Smiley’s. I didn’t know how I was going to face them now. I had already fucked up once with Nero. And somehow, this felt even worse than that.

Lotto’s worried frown was the first thing I saw. Then Frankie’s scowl, Ari’s scrunched nose, and River’s pinched eyebrows. They weren’t looking at me but at the cast on my hand.

“Bones…” Ari breathed.

I shook my head. “Don’t bother.” As much as I loved her, I wasn’t in the mood for some pity party.

“How long?” Frankie asked.

“Four weeks. At the minimum.”

He ran a hand through his blond hair but didn’t say anything.

River’s grunt was more like a grimace. “We’re going to have to call Pinstripe.”

Ari sighed. “And Lucien.”

“I don’t want to be privy to that call. You could probably see his clenched butthole from space.” River tipped his head toward Frankie. “More power to you.”

“I’ll deal with it,” Lotto offered, “and if he says anything, I’ll just ask how his dad’s investigation is going.”

I snorted despite myself. “I’m sure that’ll put us back in his good graces.”

“I’ll call up Pinstripe then. He’s gonna have to bust ass to get here.” Frankie let out a frustrated huff. “Can’t believe I have to deal with two idiots on this team now.”

River lifted a brow in jest. “Name some names, Frankie.”

“The guy who let his guard down and is sleeping off a nasty cut to the forehead.” Frankie motioned around him to note the absence of Teo. “Dumbass. I told him not to drop his hands like that.”

“At least he didn’t lose?” Ari offered. It was a weak offer at best. We might have won this one 2-0-1 but with me out and Teo admittedly mid, it would probably be our last winning streak for a while.

The thought soured my stomach.

“Can we head back to the hotel? The smells are making me sick.” I shook my head. It wasn’t just the smells but the reality that this was going to be absolute dogshit for everyone involved.

Frankie held up the keys. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride was dead silent, and Portland passed by in a blur. My hand throbbed from my wrapping, and my head throbbed from everything else. I kept my forehead on the chilly window, but even that didn’t help the heat in my body.

We pulled into the parking lot, and Frankie turned off the car. No one made a move to leave the van.

Frankie looked at me through the rear-view mirror. “Quit acting like it’s the end of the world.”

“It might be,” I said. “At least for our contract.”

“And then we’ll get another sponsor. If not, we’ll figure it out.” Ari reached over to place a hand on my wrist. It felt too kind for my mistakes. “We always do.”

River turned around in the passenger seat to look at me. “Pinstripe isn’t going to lose them all. Or he’ll have to answer to me. And Frankie.” River punched Frankie’s shoulder and snorted. “He’ll probably shit his pants if that happens.”

“Worst-case scenario is that we drop a few places.” Lotto looked around Ari to fix me with a pinched stare. “And I know what you’re thinking so keep your damn mouth shut, Bones. This isn’t your fault. Injuries happen.”

I grinned. “That obvious?”

“If anything, it’s my fault for not having a backup before all this. It didn’t cross my mind.” Frankie glanced over at River, and they shared a look I couldn’t place.

“Hey, if worse comes to worse, we can have the guys from St. Luka’s pray for us.” River laughed. “I saw two priests in the audience tonight. I’m sure one of them will take pity on some stragglers like us.”

“So, wait, they’re really sponsored by a church?” I thought that was just a joke.

“Yep. Trying to make money for their orphanage program.” Ari squeezed my hand. “So, if some priests can find the money to sponsor a team, we can find someone else. I promise, Bones. It’s going to be okay.”

I wanted to believe her—I really did—but it didn’t seem as easy as they were making it. Lucien had our balls in his grip. All he had to do was squeeze and we’d be out of commission for much longer than my injury.

“We’re in this together,” Lotto agreed. “Worry about getting better. Leave the rest of the bullshit to us.”

“Four weeks,” I promised.

I was going to do everything in my power to heal up and get back in the ring as soon as I could. Everyone in this car—and even Teo, that weasel who couldn’t block to save his life—deserved it. They deserved me at my best. Not whatever the fuck I’d been giving lately.

“And we’ll be with you every single day.” Ari’s smile was so warm, it heated my cold body.

“Thanks, guys,” I said. “Now can we get out of this stuffy van already? It smells like piss.”

“Is that why it was so cheap to rent? I thought it was just a beautiful renter discount.” River winked at Ari.

“Okay, I’m dealing with three idiots,” Frankie said. “Get out before I kick your ass out.”

We all exited the van, as cheery as we could be. I tried to let their conversation lift my mood, but I just felt… hollow. The splint on my hand was an anchor dragging me to the bottom of the cold ocean.

Whatever happened this next month wouldn’t be pretty.