Page 81 of Sacrifice
“How?”
“Kenley’s mommy probably fell in love and got remarried, so now she has a daddy and a stepfather. I didn’t get remarried, baby girl. You have a daddy and an uncle Crew.”
“You’re silly, Mommy. Uncle Crew loves you and me.” She rolls her eyes in a five-year-old kind of way and turns her attention back to her cartoons, leaving me speechless.
I sit down again and roll around what she just said in my head.
Does Crew love me?
I shake my head, totally unsure.
He’s nice to me. He’s twisting his life around for us. But would he do that if it was just me and not Ever?
The note he sent with Will is sitting beside me and I pick it up. It’s such a sweet gesture, something I’m sure few people get from Crew. I smile to myself, thinking back to all the sweet things he’s been doing.
This is the Crew I loved a long time ago. The Crew that would do anything for me. The Crew that was fiercely loyal to those he loved.
I’m not sure how he feels about me. Hell, I’m not sure how I feel about him. But I do know that he won’t leave us this time. I feel it.
THIRTY-TWO
CREW
“Faster. Faster. You better work, Gentry!”
My chest explodes as I sit up with a medicine ball. I clench my teeth and growl into the air, moving faster on Sal’s instructions.
“Give it to me, Crew. Come on! Five. Four. Three. Two. Work! And one. Done.”
The stopwatch clicks and I drop the ball off to the side, forcing air into my overworked lungs. My daily runs have nothing on Sal D’Amato’s workouts. Hands on my knees, my T-shirt soaked with sweat, I heave in precious oxygen while my coach watches.
The gym is closed for business, the lights in the front of the building on Seventh Street off. Will sits on a heavy bag on the floor, watching me kill myself. It’s like old times, except for the elephant sitting on my shoulders in the form of a beautiful little girl with neuroblastoma.
Sal leans back against the boxing ring set up in the middle of the room. The way he holds himself commands respect. Even if you didn’t know that he was an Olympic-qualifying wrestler back in the day or that he started one of the very first MMA gyms in Boston, you could tell he wassomeonejust by looking at him.
In his old age, he’s still in shape. He wears tracksuits around the gym during the day, training some of the best fighters from around the country. I’ve considered so many times how my life would’ve ended up differently had he not seen me fight behind that supermarket. And how it would have been different if he hadn’t taken me on as a charity case, maybe even as a foster kid in some ways.
“Well, you’re not in as bad shape as I thought,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “But still, for the time we have to work with, we have our work cut out for us.”
I bow my head and stand, rolling my shoulder. “I’ll do whatever I have to do.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, Crew? I’ve seen Davidson fight. He’s—”
“I’m sure,” I say. The decision’s been made. Now the work must be done.
“What are you gonna tell me about that injury?”
I shrug. “Nothin’ to tell.”
“You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ idiot?” he asks. “I’ve been around this shit longer than you’ve been alive, Gentry. Not to mention that I can read you like a fuckin’ book. Don’t lie to me.”
My gaze turns icy. I owe my life in some ways to Sal D’Amato, but I’m not going to sacrifice someone else’s to save my own.
“What do you know about this?” he asks, turning to Will. “How bad is it?”
“Hey,” Will says, putting both hands in front of him. “I don’t know jack shit.”
Sal laughs loudly. “Ain’t that the truth.”
