Page 33 of Stone’s Cage

"You're a free man, Stone." Coach leans in and whispers fiercely in my ear. "I got the gun that killed Monica Knight and her brother. That's how I got you out, you asshole. Shreves knows it. You fight like you mean it. It's not worth throwing. Don’t fuck with your ticket out."

The bell rings.

This time, I'm without a compass. I can't take in what Coach just said. I push questions aside and refocus. I have to fight. But to win? We fight, we wrestle, we each land a few, he bleeds from the shoulder and cheek, I take an illegal punch to the back of the head. The guy's an ass. Fly really wants to win but he's no sportsman. He gets called on that as I'm kneeling, trying to get my bearings. Once I'm back, time starts on the clock and we separate again, though this time the ref has to pull him off me at the end of Round 2. I still can’t see Fly's eyes. I'm pretty damn sure he's high.

Spitting out my mouthguard, it’s covered in blood. The pain in my side is sharp. I think I have a busted rib. I'll have to set my abs better next round. All I can think is Cassie. Cassie. Doing this for you.

And as soon as I return to the station, there's Shreves, sitting in the crowd, shades on smiling, his split lower lip curving. He's rubbing his index finger and thumb together, signaling cash.

Fucker.

Coach swims into view. I grab him before he starts giving me water. "What the fuck do you mean?"

"This is on you kid. You have a decision to make."

It's hard for me to talk. "You have the gun?" is all I can get out.

"If you throw this, Shreves owns you."

I shake my head.

"Oh he will. I can’t keep pulling you out. The threat'll wear thin. And then he'll come after me."

A flicker of hope lights in my chest despite the fact it's dangerous. It’s always dangerous to cross Shreves. But the real danger is feeling hope.

Chapter Seventeen

Lily

I couldn't bear to watch another round from behind that glass. Every blow, I felt. I can't believe human beings do this to each other. It looks barbaric. The whole point is to beat the shit out of your opponent. And in this game, there were no real rules. That's what he told me. That's why Stone didn’t want me to come.

After the second round, I open the door just as Stone stands in his corner and Coach starts mopping him up. There's some talk between them and I'm making my way through the crowd, squeezing, turning, until I'm right there and I come up to the chain link. Though it's coated in plastic, it’s still hard, unyielding and I call his name.

Stone doesn't hear me.

One of the judges takes these two pieces of wood and slams them together. Round 3 begins.

Stone steps out into the center while the other guy, who is slightly shorter but thicker, and panting hard suddenly leaps on him, legs around Stone's waist, and he slams Stone to the ground, his back arched funny because the guys legs are still wrapped around him.

The crowd boos. Then Fly goes crazy, punching Stone on the side of his neck, his head, his chest and Stone rolls to his side, trying to cover his head with his arms but the asshole keeps trying to move his arms away and then bashes him some more. Suddenly Coach has his arm around me, pulling me to the cage and I realize I'm screaming.

Not words. Just screams.

Stone's eyes, those blues, burn from the sea of blows and then Stone wraps his legs around the guy and in a Jiu Jitsu move, twists and the guy is on the floor. Blood pours from a gash on Stone's back. He kicks the guy's left shoulder as he tries to come up and the guys staggers back against the links. My heart is all I can hear. It's beating high and hard and somewhere in my throat.

Fly's got a grip on Stone, who's head is down and Stone's trying to get the guy back down on the floor but instead, the guy knees him in the groin and as the crowd boos again, Fly's right hand comes up and smashes into Stone's jaw. Stone releases him and, at this point, I can’t tell if he's going to lose, and if he does, if it’s on purpose.

Fly's got Stone up against the cage and his forearm is pressing on Stone's throat. The crowd is loud, people are yelling, the ref is moving around the men, shouting at the guy to stop. Stone starts to go red and his punches aren’t landing. It's like the guy wants to kill him.

Coach drops his arm from me and launches himself at the edge of the ring, he's screaming, even the other trainer comes around, yelling.

Then, in an instant, it's over. Stone shifts his weight, leverages Fly against himself and the guy goes flying backward. Before Stone can even take a breath, he's on the guy, a knee to the side, the chest, holding him in a grip, keeping his head down and then the bell rings again, though the crowd's so loud no one hears it. The ref has to call it.

I feel limp.

The ref leans over and one of the judges say something to him. He strokes his beard, and then hops down and lifts Stone's arm.

I know I should be happy. He didn’t throw the fight. But all I can see is blood. Blood everywhere and the exhaustion in his face. His neck is already mottled and bruised.