I don’t want to think about losing Sol, and I don’t want to keep reliving that day we found her mom. But I can’t shake the thoughts no matter how hard I try.
Sol was supposed to be here hours ago so we could catch the fights together. Like me and Kill figured, Sumar got the title bout against the champ. He brought the drama and the hype to get fans talking and helped sell out the arena.
The champ beat his ass tonight three minutes into the first round, proving Sumar wasn’t ready to take him on. So who’s next in line for the belt? Me, if I can win my fight next month against the number two guy who challenged me.
Kill gave me the news earlier. I should have been out of my mind. It’s what I’ve worked for. But the combination of finding Sol’s mother almost dead, and the distance between me and Sol sent me back down that dark path I thought was finally behind me. So instead of losing my shit, it took all I had just to fist bump Kill, the images of Flor’s suicide attempt erasing any joy I could feel.
I step out of the elevator. We’re at a different hotel than we were in last time. Still, it feels weird being in A.C. without Sol. What’s stranger, though, is what’s happened to us.
The woman in front of me jumps when her boyfriend or whoever grabs her ass. She shoves him away, laughing. I scoot around them, unable to watch. They remind me too much of what I no longer have.
Damn, wasn’t it just a few weeks back that me and my girl were practically inseparable? How the hell did we go from doing everything together to nothing at all? I suppose I could handle our time apart better if this was all about her mom―her needing to deal with what happened, needing to spend more time with her family, and maybe needing therapy of her own. But I can’t shake the feeling she’s cutting me loose.
Ever since we found her mom, it’s like there’s this wedge shoved between us, forcing us apart. It doesn’t matter that I tried to help or spare Sol from it. The way she’s acting toward me, how distant she is, I feel like she blames me for what happened. I’ve tried talking to her about it, but she’s barely speaking to me. And even though what happened occurred in her home, she hasn’t spent the night with me since her mother was committed.
I know what she saw messed her up. It messed me up, too. The blood, the violence―I don’t know, it tripped me up worse than anything in the octagon ever has. I spoke to Mason about it, and how it’s unearthed a shitload of memories I’ve tried to forget. He prescribed anti-anxiety and anti-depressant medication, a double whammy that hasn’t done anything. I made the mistake of telling Sol I was on meds. If I didn’t think she could look more upset, she proved me wrong.
I hurry across the lobby, glancing toward the restaurant where I’m supposed to meet Kill and Sofia when my phone rings.
Killian’s face flashes across the screen. “Hey, Kill,” I say.
“Finn, it’s Sofia.”
“I’m coming. You already inside?”
“No. I’m so sorry,” she whispers. I hear noise in the background, but it’s like she’s tucked away in some corner or in another room. “We’re still at the arena dealing with what happened.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, slowing my steps.
“You haven’t heard?”
Oh, this can’t be good. I stop a few feet from the entrance to the restaurant. “No . . . What happened?”
She pauses. “Ruban tested positive for steroids.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No,” she says. “The opposing camp suspected he was doping, and demanded a test following his win. It came back positive. Killian completely lost it on him. Gosh, Finn. Here’s a guy with so much natural talent, and someone we’ve spent months helping, and he does this. Killian is livid and dealing with the press now.”
Son of a bitch. We recruited Ruban out of Drexel and have been training him to be the next Bantam weight champion and this is what he pulls? “I want him off our team. He had his chance and he blew it.”
“Killian says the same thing. I guess you both can meet with him on Monday and give him the news.” She sighs. “It’s not pretty down here. It might be a while so get something to eat without us.”
“All right,” I say.
She doesn’t disconnect right away and neither do I. “Is something wrong?” she asks.
I don’t want to sound like a pussy, but I’m hoping Sofia knows something I don’t. “Have you heard from Sol?” I ask.
I can almost picture her knitting her brows. “No. Isn’t she there with you?”
“No. She hasn’t shown and she hasn’t called.”
There’s some shuffling on the other end before she answers again. “She’s not herself, Finn.”