Page 61 of Condemned Soul

“No more for you, son.” Andre goes to pull me out the ring but I shove him in the chest and make him stumble.

“I’ll say when I’m done. How about him?” I look over to the big guy on the other side of the ring.

“He has a fight scheduled. Troj, you’ve already had two more fights than ya shoulda, I don’t know what’s wrong with ya, but you need to go home.”

“I can’t.” I shake my head and keep my feet moving. I have to keep the adrenaline pumping, I like the distraction of it.

“Troj, get outta my ring or I’m gonna have to call Jimmer,” he warns, and just hearing my president’s name makes me wanna swing for him.

“You won’t get hold of him.” I feel all the energy drain outta me as I step back and drop out the ring, the crowd around me barge shoulders trying to get a good view of the next fight and I allow myself to get pushed to the back of ‘em. I head straight out the doors and get to my bike, not worrying about picking up any of my winnings. I didn’t come here to make fuckin’ money.

I get home an hour later and when I step through the cabin door Shaniya comes rushing toward me.

“Troj, where were you?” She keeps her voice low despite how worried she looks and when I look over to the couch I see why. Theo is asleep, covered up with the blanket that she made just for him.

“I just had to get outta here for a while,” I explain, knowing that she’ll figure it out for herself from the state of my hands and the blood on my vest and jeans.

“Are you hurt?” She doesn’t seem mad as she leads me over to the table and forces me to sit. Then I watch her take the first aid box from the cupboard and take her place beside me.

“No, darlin’, I ain’t hurt. Not on the outside,” I admit, and a lump forms in my throat when I think about Prez and what’s gonna happen to him if we don’t change his mind.

“Let me clean these knuckles up.” She pours some alcohol onto a cotton ball and I don’t flinch at the sting it makes when she dabs it over my skin. I stare at the boy while she cleans me up and wraps a bandage around each hand, and I wonder if he’s in a deep enough sleep to be dreaming. I used to dream when I was a kid. Dream that I didn’t live in a trailer and that me and my brother, Autumn, had a dad who turned up to take us to football games. I dreamt I had a mom who baked cookies and sang us to sleep, instead of shooting up. It’s what always made waking up seem so hard.

I wait for Shan to be done before I stand up and make my way over to him, then crouching down beside him I run my bandaged hand through his floppy hair. He should have had it cut by now, but he shakes his head every time we suggest it. Shan’s convinced it’s because he wants it to get long like mine, but I fear it’s because he’s scared of the scissors. I’ve seen the marks on his body and know that look he’s got behind his eyes.

“I’m really startin’ to like him,” I admit, giving in to all the hope she’s got that this little boy might be able to stay with us forever. Sure, he don’t toss a ball like Nyx’s kid does, and I’m always wondering what’s going through his head because he don’t talk, but when I get a smile outta him, it feels like something real special.

“It feels like he’s ours, doesn’t it?” She kneels beside me and smiles at him with such fondness it makes me ache inside.

“Yeah, it does,” I agree with her. He may not have been here for long, but already I know I’d do anything to protect him, every day he makes a little progress, and seeing how happy it makes Shaniya, has me determined to ensure he sticks around.

“I don’t think his mama’s coming back.” Shaniya smiles sadly at the sleeping boy. “I just don’t understand it. How can someone have something so precious and not want it?” There’s a pain in her voice that tugs on all the tendons of my heart and makes me wanna do everything in my power to ensure she doesn’t lose him.

“I don’t know, darlin’, but it’s okay. We’re gonna love him the way he deserves. We’re gonna give him a good life.” Shaniya nearly knocks me back when she realizes what I’m saying and her arms fling around my neck as she kisses me.

“Troj, you don’t know how happy that makes me. I’ve been so scared.”

“Scared?” I pull my head back so I can look at her.

“I know what your role is, Prez isn’t supposed to go no place without you.” Her lashes bat wildly as her blue eyes pool with tears.

“I’m not gonna lie, Shan, I thought about it. We all would have thought about it at one point or another. But I’m needed here.” I stroke my hand through Theo’s hair and when I feel her lips press against my stubble I smile, despite the guilt I feel inside. “And if I know Jimmer Carson as well as I think I do, here, with you is exactly where he’d want me to be.”

“Jessie is gonna fix this. Prez isn’t gonna end up in jail.” She does her best to sound reassuring as I scoop him up in my arms and start carrying him toward his room. “I hope so, Shan. I really fuckin’ hope so.” I put my little boy to bed and kiss the top of his head.

* * *

“How’s that boy of yours?” Prez asks when I take my seat opposite him the next morning. It’s weird seeing him in a gray tracksuit, instead of his black shirt and cut and I don’t know what the fuck this place is, but they seem to be treating him well.

“He’s good, he seems to come outta his shell when he’s around Dylan.” I know how much Prez loves to talk about his grandkids, yet the mention of his grandson seems to make him sad today.

“So, you’re here to take your turn in tryin’ to talk me outta this?” he asks, crossing his hands on the table and looking me square in the eyes.

“Worth a try, ain’t it?” I shrug. Lying to him would be pointless, he’s far too smart for that.

“Sorry to disappoint ya, Troj, but—” He shakes his head.

“Ella wants to visit, we ain’t gonna be able to hold it off much longer,” I interrupt him.

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