"This is it?" I asked. The tiny house in front of us was surrounded by a small, mostly-brown yard, the only green color coming from the ragged weeds growing up in patches that dotted the dirt. A child's bicycle was propped up against the front steps. On the other side of the street, three men stood in front of an equally depressing home, leaning against a beat-up truck and talking. I could feel their eyes on us as we got out of the car.
"Yeah, man," Trigg said. "It's no good. Johnny and Deborah had to move here a couple months ago. They were able to get out of some of the hospital bills, but it took everything they had."
"Shit. I can't believe they're living in a place like this. I've sent them money, but it wasn’t much, since I owed that money to Fat Harry. I didn’t know it was this bad. Coker should pay for what he did." I exhaled heavily and pocketed the car keys before I looked over at the guys across the street. "Elias is going to fucking kill me if his Mustang gets jacked. He's crazy when it comes to this car."
"Well, it's a sweet car. It makes sense he'd be psychotic about it. We'll watch it from inside," Trigg said. He lifted up the hem of his shirt to reveal the handgun tucked into his waistband. "But I brought this, just in case."
"How's their little girl doing?" I asked, as we walked to the front door.
"She's okay," Trigg said. "Johnny said she's been having some problems at school. But that's no big surprise, if the school is in a neighborhood like this, you know?"
The door opened before we even knocked, and Deborah stood in the doorway, an apron wrapped around her waist. She wiped her hands on the fabric, and waved us inside, glancing behind us at the men across the street. "Silas, Trigg, come in," she said. "What are you doing here?"
We stood awkwardly just inside the doorway of the small house, and Trigg angled himself near a window after giving Deborah a hug. "I'm just going to keep an eye out for the car," he said.
"It's my brother's car," I explained, aware of how it seemed, us driving into this neighborhood in a car like that, like a couple of rich assholes. The truth was that we were far from it.
"It's probably a good idea to watch," Deborah said, shaking her head. "The men there, they're no good. Drugs, I think. A lot of people go in and out of the house."
"Trigg said you moved here a couple months ago," I said. Deborah gestured toward the table and chairs, and I sat while she busied herself in the kitchen, getting glasses and a pitcher of water.
"The hospital bills cleaned us out," she said.
"It happened a year ago, though," I said, shaking my head. "I thought the hospital bills were all taken care of. Johnny had insurance."
"All of the hospital bills were taken care of, the ones from what happened at the fight," Deborah said. "But, months later, he was hiding the problems with dizziness. He was still having - what do they call it? - Vertigo. He couldn't operate heavy machinery, and then he lost his job as the equipment operator at the plant a couple months ago. Everything started going downhill."
"I'm sorry, Deb," I said. "I left and - I didn't know. I'd have sent more, if I could."
She waved her hand dismissively. "Please, Silas," she said. "You've already done so much. After what happened with you..."
"I was lucky," I said, changing the subject. I didn't want a pity party. "What is Johnny doing? Is he okay now?"
Deborah shrugged. "We'll make it," she said. "He's bagging groceries, picking up odd jobs here and there. He still has the dizziness, and migraines. We just needed to downsize a bit. We'll be fine. Tell me about you. How are you doing? Are you back in town to stay? Johnny will be real happy to see you. He's working late today, though."
I shook my head. "I’m just popping in," I said. "I had a fight the other night."
Deborah's face paled. "You're back with Coker?"
"No, no, of course not," I said. "Abel called me to be in his corner for a fight, but he ended up in the hospital, so I took his place."
Her hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide. "Is he okay? Was it Coker?"
I shook my head. "No, no," I lied, throwing a look at Trigg. Deborah didn't need anything else to worry about. "He was in a car accident. It was completely random. He's fine - just bruised up, nothing serious. I'll tell him you asked about him."
"You already did the fight, then?" she asked, her voice shaky.
I reached for her palm, covered her hand with mine. "Yeah," I said. "And I'm fine, too. I kicked the guy's ass."
Deborah patted the back of my hand. "Please watch yourself, Silas," she said. "You were smart to leave when you did. I worry about you and the other fighters."
"I'm good," I said. "We brought you something. The purse from the fight – minus some money I owed someone. Hopefully it'll help."