The Only Way (6 page)

Both girls raised their fists. Ruby dropped into the fighter's stance as easily as Hart did, and Hart wondered how many hours she had spent in this ring with her father, running through moves and maneuvers just as Hart had done with Duncan.

"Because you're small, you want to keep your opponent running as much as possible. When you're fighting some huge chap, you can use his size against him. Last night you did a bit too much moving yourself," Leo advised. "Keep turning in place and dodging and make the other guy move around
you
. You don't want to tire yourself out along with him."

Leo called out instructions as Hart and Ruby circled, neither making a move to actually engage. Ruby's footwork was good—better than Hart's, she noticed with some shame. After a few minutes, Leo told Ruby to start swinging, leaving Hart on the defense.

Ruby's fist shot out hard and fast, and it was all Hart could do to stumble out of the way. The girl's lips curled up in a smirk, and Hart narrowed her eyes.

With her next swing Ruby landed a punch, then another one.

"Hart! You're supposed to be
dodging
," Leo called out from the sidelines and Ruby snickered.

"I'm trying," Hart shouted back, ducking into a crouch as Ruby's fist came towards her. Seeing an opportunity, she kicked her leg out. Ruby's feet shot out from under her and the she went sprawling to the mat.

"No!"

Hart frowned at Leo. "No?"

"Don't knock the guy down unless you think you can
keep
him down. If you go for the pin too early, he'll just flip you and then he's won."

Hart looked over at Ruby, lying flat on her back. She knew she could hold the other girl down, but if Ruby were Gage—or someone bigger—it was unlikely. She huffed a frustrated sigh.

Leo grinned. "Now, back on your feet, both of you."

They spent all day in the ring until Hart could barely breathe, let alone move. Ruby hit hard and moved fast. For most of the morning, Hart felt like she was just scrambling to keep up with her. Ruby taunted her about getting 'beaten by a girl', and Hart felt something twist angrily inside of her. There was nothing wrong with being a girl—Ruby's fighting skills made that clear—but if she wanted to survive, she had to convince everyone that she was just as tough as every other man in the ring.

Finally, Leo called an end to the day. Hart glanced dolefully at Ruby, noting that the girl wasn't nearly as wrecked as Hart felt. Sweat poured over Hart, matting what was left of her hair to her head and sticking her clothes uncomfortably to her frame. She shifted, terrified the wrappings might show under her sweat-slicked top.

"Showers are that way," Leo said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. He leaned close. "You did alright, kid."

It wasn't much, as far as praise went, but Hart found herself walking a little straighter anyway. Ruby had kicked her ass, but then, Ruby was a damn good fighter. She'd get better, she promised herself. She'd take the girl one day and then the men.

Hart slipped through the door Leo had indicated, into a shower room that was gargantuan by her standards. She eyed the shower itself with trepidation. It had handles and knobs and shining silver fixtures.

They bathed out of a tub at home. Hart's house had a water pump that connected to the main line that ran through the Gutter—a luxury that most of her neighbors didn't share. They heated the water over the fire and washed quickly before it cooled. Filling the tub took ages, so full bathing wasn't something they did every day. When her family did bother, all the kids shared the same water. Little Penny got dunked first and Finn went last because he was always the dirtiest. 

Hart reached out and touched one of the knobs with tentative fingers, wondering what it did. The
idea
of a shower was wonderful, but she didn't know the first thing about making one work.

"Need help?"

Hart jumped at the voice, spinning around to find Ruby leaning in the doorway, a smirk on her face.

"No," Hart denied automatically, crossing her arms over her chest. She was lucky she hadn't undressed yet.

"Really?" Ruby strolled further into the room. "Then go ahead and turn it on."

Hart looked back at the knobs and handles and bit her lip, reaching out to turn one.

Nothing happened.

Ruby snickered behind her.

"Fine. I have no idea how it works. We don't
have
showers at home. Happy?"

Ruby's smirk softened as she stepped up beside Hart. "Hey. You're not the first kid out of the Gutter we've had here, you know."

She twisted a different knob knowledgably and the pipes groaned loudly. After a moment, water spurted out of the spigot overhead.

"It doesn't get super hot, but it's better than nothing," Ruby said.

Hart stuck her hand out, into the flow of lukewarm water. "You're really lucky," she said quietly. She wondered if Ruby even knew the advantages she had, growing up in the Alley.

"You were good today," Ruby said. "Maybe you'll be buying your family a shower soon with all your earnings."

Hart laughed incredulously, but the sound wasn't as bitter as she expected. Maybe one day she actually would.

She glanced over her shoulder at the other girl. A pink scrape ran through the freckles of Ruby's cheek, courtesy of an ill-placed punch and Hart's thumbnail. Ruby had barely blinked when the cut bled.

"You planning on watching?" Hart asked when Ruby made no move to leave.

Ruby laughed, her red curls bouncing with the movement. "You wish." She sauntered out of the room and Hart hurried after her, turning the lock on the door before even thinking about taking off her top.

The shower was just as amazing as she had imagined it would be.

*~*~*

Leo led Hart out into the arena, pushing his way through the gathered crowd. Hart gazed around the room with wide eyes. It was nicer than Farris's place, but not by much. Wooden bleachers lined the walls, wrapped around a good-sized ring. The main doors were across from the gym entrance, wide and impressive-looking. A ticket booth stood on the street, Hart remembered. A small concession stand occupied the space between the main door and the bleachers, a place for the paying customers to get a drink and some popcorn, to complement the bloodshed.

Hart shuddered, looking away from the jaunty signs advertising the prices of beer and nuts.

"We've got two fights tonight," Leo called over the din of the crowd filtering in through the front door. "The second one is the one to watch. Experienced fighters. Don't have any idea who's going to take it, myself," he grinned, nodding at the stand next to concessions.

The bookie.

Hart dropped her gaze to the sticky floor. People had bet on her father's last fight. People had walked out of that arena with money in their pockets because he had gone down.

Maybe there had even been betting on more than the winner. Maybe some lucky man had walked away with a fortune because he laid money down on her father's life.

Hart's stomach turned, the smell of sweat, beer and popcorn just making it worse.

Leo either didn't notice or pretended not to; he pointed to an empty spot on the bleachers. "Get settled. I do my own announcing," he said ruefully. "But I'll stop by during the fights themselves. Watch the men—watch how they move, how they swing, even how they fall. Got it?"

Hart nodded, wishing unaccountably that Leo could sit with her for the duration of the fight. She barely knew the man; there was no reason to cling.

She distracted herself by watching the crowd streaming into the arena. Just like at Farris's place, the audience was mostly men, Alley-born and bred from the looks of them. Working men, with jobs in the plants and factories. A few office-types in slightly nicer clothes, but not many. Working stiffs who wanted to relax in the evenings with some entertainment.

Hart scowled. They may have been blue collar, but they didn't have to worry about when the next wages would come through or where their next meal would come from. They didn't have to worry about their wives and kids starving, crying because their bellies ached with hunger. They could afford the warm beer and cold popcorn being shilled at the concession stand.

From across the room, Hart caught a flash of red. Ruby wound her way effortlessly through the men in the arena, taking a seat on the opposite side of the ring.

Leo stepped into the ring and the crowd quieted.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Leo said with a grin. "Welcome to Ryan's Fight Night! First into the ring …"

Hart tuned out his voice, focusing instead on the men waiting in the shadows for their names to be called. She could see the nerves in the lines of their bodies, the agitation with which they moved, jogging in place, psyching themselves up for what was to come.

The first fight passed in a blur. Both men were bigger and more experienced than Hart—she could tell at a glance—but they obviously weren't evenly matched. One fell fast, caught hard at the knee. He crumpled to the mat beneath his opponent, and Hart had to resist the urge to cover her ears against the triumphant cries of the men around her. These people, eagerly comparing the odds on their bets and laughing with each other, would be braying for her blood before long.

When the next two men swaggered out for the second fight, Hart sat up straighter in her seat. They reminded her of her father, in a way:  older, grizzled, obvious injuries scarring their faces. But the similarities stopped there. Both men wore hard expressions as they stepped into the ring, facing each other down. She wondered if this was how Duncan had looked when he fought:  a different man than the loving father who tossed his small children in the air and gently guided Hart through life.

Leo introduced the fighters—Gunnar and Kemp—and they nodded tersely to each other from the sides of the ring. With a grin at the audience, Leo stepped out of the ring and Gunnar and Kemp approached each other, dropping into their fighting stances.

They each threw a few quick jabs, testing the waters. Neither looked serious; there was no muscle behind their fists. Not yet. They smirked at each other as they circled. Suddenly, though, Gunnar kicked out, his leg swinging to catch Kemp in the side. Kemp jumped at the impact, and the smirk fell from his face.

The fight was on.

They circled more seriously now, eyes glued to each other. Kemp lashed out, repeating Gunnar's move. Gunnar was prepared and charged forward while Kemp's leg was still swinging through the arc of the kick. He caught Kemp off balance, toppling him back to the ropes. Hart gasped along with the rest of the audience, wondering if it could be that easy. But Kemp got his arms up, around Gunnar's middle, and dragged him down with him.

They grappled against the ropes for a moment as the crowd whooped and then freed themselves, each retreating to the center of ring.

They danced lightly on their feet, feinting kicks, keeping each other on their toes.

With a start, Kemp swung in with intent:  a hard, vicious punch to the side of Gunnar's head. Hart winced, feeling the aftershocks the blow Gage had dealt her. She shook her head, focusing on the fight.

Gunnar stumbled back. Kemp advanced, catching him off guard. In a move almost too fast for Hart to follow, Kemp threw Gunnar off his balance. He tried to twist and keep his fists between them, and his feet tangled beneath him. He fell to the mat. Kemp was on him in an instant, hunched over him. He let gravity help his fists along as he rained punches down on Gunnar's face. It was brutal and Hart fought the urge to look away.

The idea that Duncan may have done the same, the idea that she would have to be just as remorseless if she wanted to win, made her shudder.

Gunnar grappled with Kemp. He caught his wrist to try and stop the blows, but Kemp just twisted his arm. He caught Gunnar with his elbow instead, a sharp jab to the face. Hart winced at the blow.

Even from where she sat, she could see that Gunnar looked dazed. He threw his body up, locking his legs and arms around his opponent, hugging Kemp close so that he couldn't throw a punch. Hart nodded. That was a move to remember.

The men writhed on the mat while the audience screamed at them to get up, to fight, to kill.

Gunnar managed to extricate himself and both men threw themselves to their feet, their movements wearier now. They circled, but it no longer looked like a teasing dance. Blood dripped down Gunnar's face, and he blinked rapidly, trying to keep it out of his eyes. Kemp charged forward almost immediately, fists flying, and Hart knew who was going to win. Kemp was simply more ferocious. He wanted it more.

Gunnar danced back, dodging and feinting. He swung his leg up to get in another lightning-fast kick. But, not fast enough. Kemp grabbed his foot right out of the air, yanking up and sending Gunnar crashing to the mat again. With the way he winced when he hit, Hart was sure he wouldn't be getting up again.

Kemp was on him in an instant, and Hart's eyes widened as she saw him reach for the cut above Gunnar's eye. He grabbed Gunnar's head and pushed it back against the mat, holding him still, and dug his thumb in.

Gunnar howled and Hart felt her stomach turn. The cheers around her were deafening.

Kemp used his weight to keep Gunnar pinned to the floor while the man writhed in pain. Leo leapt up from the sidelines and called out the count.

One, two, three, four … nine, ten! We have a winner!

Hart shook her head as Kemp grinned smugly, holding the purse triumphantly above his head.

She wanted to go home.

*~*~*

The second that Hart was through the door, Roe and Penny tackled her. She groaned under their weight, her whole body sore from training.

"Where have you been?" Finn demanded, hanging back, arms crossed defiantly. His gaze flicked over her baggy clothes, her shorn hair and the bruise that bloomed brightly over her jaw. His brow furrowed and understanding and betrayal dawned in his eyes. "You're fighting, aren't you?"

Hart sighed, lifting Penny to rest on one hip, her tired arms screaming under the weight of the girl. She ran a hand over Roe's long hair. "Yes."

"But you said I couldn't!" Finn raged.