Chapter 2
I left the arena with a throbbing jaw and cracked ribs.
The cold Detroit night air hit my face and made me shiver.
I went straight to the hospital.
The billing department woman looked at the envelope I slid across the counter.
"Ten thousand," she said. "That's a good start. But you still owe two thousand four hundred. And we need it by Friday."
"I'll have it," I said.
She looked at me. At the bruise forming on my jaw. At the way I was holding my side.
"Honey..." she said softly. "Whatever you're doing... be careful."
I nodded. Walked away.
I went to my mom's room.
She was sleeping. Her face was pale. Her breathing shallow.
I sat beside her and held her hand.
She woke up and smiled when she saw me.
"Hey, baby," she whispered. "You look tired."
"Just a long day at work," I lied.
I'd told her I got a second job. Construction. Night shifts.
She didn't need to know about the cage. About the blood. About The Tank.
She squeezed my hand.
"I got us some money," I said. "Almost enough. I'll have the rest tomorrow."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You're too good to me, Jax," she said. "I don't want you working yourself to death for me."
"You're my mom," I said. "I'd do anything for you."
She fell back asleep.
I sat there for a long time.
Thinking about the man in the suit.
About The Reaper.
About twenty-five thousand dollars.
Enough to pay the bills.
Enough to keep her alive.
I pulled out my phone and dialed the number he'd given me.
May you like
"I'll do it," I said when he answered.
"Good," the man said. "Be at the address I text you at eight tomorrow night. And Jax? Don't be late. The Reaper doesn't wait for anyone."
