Travis left to meet with reporters, and I stared at my bloodied reflection in the mirror. Cheek swollen, right eye blackened, cuts along my collarbone and forehead. I snatched up a wet wipe, touching up some of the wounds, barely able to lift my arm. That fight had wrung the energy out of me. I felt disjointed and lost.
And the only person I wanted was Sadie.
I let my head drop to the desk, squeezing my eyes shut. How had we reached a draw? It was as bad as losing. And yeah, I needed to fucking reclaim my honor. To show Brute that he wasn’t as good as me, he was worse than me. I groaned, muscles stiffening already. Getting the shit kicked out you was as cleansing as it was irritating.
I measured my breaths for a long while, letting the dregs of the fight settle somewhere deep inside. I was off the hook, but only for a little while. Practice would start up again once Christmas was over. I had maybe three weeks to chill, and then it was back to work. Training, training, training, and then the rematch. They wouldn’t wait much longer than a month for that.
I lifted my head slowly, dizziness threatening. I groped for my phone on the desktop and pulled open the thread with Sadie.
I’d have to face her brother again…but to hell with it. I couldn’t talk myself out of this again.
I tapped out the message as fast as I could, didn’t even think twice about sending it.
“I need to see you.”