"He's just a kid, Maggie. A good kid."

Finally, she meets my eyes. "Unlike you and me, right?"

I swallow, wincing from the slowly building ache in my jaw. "Very unlike you and me."

"If I hear anything, I'll let you know. Vic hates it too, you know. Drugs fuck up his fights."

"Thanks, Maggie," I whisper, leaning in to plant a kiss on her cheek. She swats me away. I'm sure I smell awful.

As I walk back to the center of the crowd, I see a couple girls in the circle this time. There aren't many girls that fight, but man, the ones that do are fucking fierce. The blonde currently dominating is the only one who ever wins, and the guys fucking love these fights. I can't watch, mostly because she obliterates the poor girl who I assume is new at the gym, thinking she’s tough and badass enough to take her skills to the parking lot. She’s not. They never are.

Vic catches my eye, and I send him a subtle nod.

I've gotten about as much info as I'm going to get tonight, but fuck I don't want to go home. It's only midnight, I hardly have a black eye, and I’m still bursting with frustration.

When he sees me restless, he nods me over. I know where this is going. We do this dance every weekend. I fight a fair opponent and win.

He gives me someone a little bigger than me...and the outcome is usually less predictable. The gains for him are good. For me, I risk needing dental work or a trip to the ER, but at least I don't feel so restless or frustrated anymore.

"You sticking around tonight?" he asks, and I see the tall red-headed fuck I fought last week. I almost had him, but he nearly put his fist through my skull before I could land my last punch—at least that's what it felt like.

What are my choices? Go home alone? Logan and Murph are both cozy with their girls now, and I wasn't about to third wheel that shit. And getting knocked out was better than lying awake in bed all night.

"Yeah, fuck it."

Shelby

Mr. Yan squeezes my hand while I take his blood pressure, and a smile creeps across my face. “You better relax or I’ll be here all day.”

“A dream come true for an old man like me.”

“Oh, you don’t want me hanging around here all day. Aren’t you and Mrs. Yan watching the new ‘This is Us’ tonight?” I ask as I jot his numbers down on the chart. They’re not worse than last week so I breathe a sigh of relief. I hate when the vital signs tell me the end is near and there’s absolutely nothing I can do.

“Exactly,” he laughs. “Don’t leave.”

“Oh come on,” I answer. “That’s a great show.”

“She cries the whole time,” he says with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah...maybe Big Bang Theory instead. Something funny.” Just then, the man’s wife comes in. She’s not all smiles like he is. It never ceases to amaze me the way the family reacts to the end compared to the patient. The family members hate me. I am the angel of death. By the time I show up, hope is lost, and my presence is just the cruel reminder they don’t need.