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Not in front of anyone who wasn’t Carly…or Tray. The realization that somewhere along the line he’d risen in status in my head made me tighten the jacket around me from my sudden chill. His jacket. It was wet. Maybe from snow—
I glanced down. Dark patches marred the front. Confused, I brought my fingers to them, a sob escaping at the blood that dampened my hand. God. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go back to another hospital, even for him. Not again.
“Mia?”
Slater’s voice had gentled and that made me angriest of all. I didn’t deserve his kindness. He should hate me, just like Tray.
I pulled off the coat with the utmost care. Then I pushed it into Slater’s arms and gazed up into his baffled face. “You need to get this dry cleaned. Now. Please. I’ll pay whatever it costs.”
He wasn’t moving. “It’s eleven o’clock.”
“I don’t care. There has to be a twenty-four hour place around here somewhere. Whatever it costs. Goddammit, please.” Another sob escaped as I shoved his chest. “I have to go be with him. I can’t lose this jacket.”
Before he could tell me no, I pressed my hand to my mouth and whirled away. The metallic taste on my lips told me which hand I’d used.
Nausea climbed up my throat. I ran, hoping to hold it back, the snow-covered ground in front of me blurring from the endless siege on my eyes. The cold air rushed over my now bare arms, chilling me so deeply I doubted I’d ever get warm again. But I wouldn’t stop. I’d run all the way there if I had to.
At the end of the next block, I spotted a yellow car idling at the curb. I waved my arms like a lunatic as I approached at a speed that probably scared the cabbie. He’d just exited his vehicle. “You’re picking up riders? Please? God, I need to get to Brooklyn Presbyterian.”
“You are bleeding. You are hurt?” the guy asked in a thick accent I didn’t recognize. “You need an ambulance?”
“No, I’m fine.” But what must I have looked like if I had enough blood on me to make him think I had open wounds? I didn’t have time to worry about it. “It’s my—friend’s blood. I need to go to the hospital. Please.” It was only then that I noticed the Off Duty sign above the cab. I let out another combination sob/dry heave. “Please, it’s an emergency. I’ll pay double, triple the fare.”
He pulled open the door he’d just shut. “I have a daughter your age. Get in. I will take you.”
“Thank you. Oh God, thank you.” I rushed around to the back of the car. Only when I gripped the door handle did I realize that I had no money on me. Absolutely none.
My decision to come to the fight had been spur of the moment. All night I’d paced around the apartment, bored and restless, watching the clock. Carly had gone to the gym and then out with some friends she’d met there. We didn’t have money for fancy gym memberships, but she’d scored a free month, and I didn’t want her to go stir-crazy alone in our place. She’d applied for a couple of jobs in the neighborhood, thinking she could help out until we split town. Hopefully she’d find a position soon. Still, my sister wasn’t antisocial like me. Without daily interaction with someone who wasn’t her sullen, grouchy older sister, she’d go nuts.
I’d figured I’d go to see the match and be back before Carly returned. The fight locations weren’t public knowledge, so Kizzy had checked around for me. She knew everyone on the circuit. Not that she’d wanted to help me go see Tray, but I’d convinced her it was in preparation for our bout in a few weeks. I’d promised her I wouldn’t even speak to him.
Did it count if he’d been unconscious for our conversation? One that had consisted mostly of “Oh God, I’m so sorry, you’ll be fine, we’ll get you help,” over and over again?
The cabbie leaned back between the seats. “Coming, miss?”
Nodding, I got in the car. My hand shook as I yanked the door shut. I’d figure out payment once we arrived.
Less than fifteen minutes later, the cabbie stopped at the end of the circular driveway in front of the hospital and put on his emergency lights. I grabbed the door handle and searched for my voice. Once upon a time not that long ago, I’d bartered easily and often with my body. I wasn’t that girl anymore. And Tray would’ve killed me for even considering it.
The words formed on my tongue, but I swallowed them at the last moment. I couldn’t ask this kindly older guy if he wanted a blowjob in exchange for the fare. I just couldn’t.
I opened my mouth, prepared to apologize, to make promises, but he turned toward me and shook his head. “No charge. Go now, see your friend. I hope he will be okay.”
Relief rushed through me, sweet and dizzying. “Thank you so much. I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know.”
He smiled. “Oh, I know.”
Curiosity had me turning back before I hurtled out of the car. “How did you know my friend was a he?”
“Your face,” he said simply, waving me forward. “Go on and help him get well.”
“Thank you again. Thank you.” My throat tightened before I jumped out and ran toward the entrance.
Gasps greeted me as I pushed my way up to the admissions counter. After waiting for several minutes to talk to someone, I then had to explain multiple times that I wasn’t injured. I also had to accept the wipes the nurse kept pushing at me.
Eventually they stopped fussing at me long enough to give me the information I’d requested. Tray was being evaluated, and they would notify me when he had a change in status.
Feeling utterly useless, I took the only available seat in the waiting room between two squabbling kids and glanced around, hoping to see a familiar face. People gazed back at me, probably because of my bloody war paint.
