Page 70 of Saving Blood

What the hell is this fucker trying to say?

Smoke motions to the front row seats. Hector nods to his two bodyguards, and they stay at the end of the aisle. We put Hector between us, and I shift, putting some distance between us. What was it with these cartel bosses and the heavy cologne?

“I understand Maxine’s one of your best fighters.”

All the shit he’s done to her, and he has the nerve to talk like he doesn’t know her. Fuck, this is gonna be a long-ass night.

“She’s our best fighter.” I glare at Hector. “But you already know that, right?”

“Only what I’ve heard around the city. Although Tijuana is large, it is like a small village when it comes to gossip and information.”

I grind my teeth, and Smoke shoots me a not-so-subtle side-eye, but Hector’s bullshit is jacking me up in a bad way. A way where I want to pull the .35 at the small of my back and shove it in his big mouth.

Diesel heads our way, his strides long and his face set in stone. He leans into my ear. “Gotta talk to you.”

I glance at Smoke, then stand and move closer to the cage, out of earshot. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know. Maxie’s spooked or something. She was fine earlier, and now she’s acting all weird and shit. Says she wants to talk to you.”

I glance over my shoulder, and Smoke is giving me the look again.

“Can’t now.” I angle my body away from Hector and dig into my jeans pocket. “Give this to her.” I press the passport into his palm. “Tell her no matter what happens, I trust her.”

Diesel furrows his brow.

“Just give her the passport and tell her. She’ll understand.”

I break away from Diesel and return to the bleachers.

“Trouble?” Hector asks.

“Nah,” I shoot him a smile, big and fake. “Nothing that concerns you.”

MAXINE

I’ve been focused on the door for the last ten minutes, and when Diesel enters the gym alone, my heart sinks.

The minute Diesel’s in earshot, I pounce. “Where’s Blood?”

“He’s busy, babe, got a lot going on. Hector’s out there with him and the other brothers. We all gotta make sure we play it right.”

“What exactly does . . .” I sigh deeply. He wouldn’t tell me club business, so why bother to ask?

Diesel digs into the front pocket of his jeans. “Blood said to give you this, and that, no matter what happens, he trusts you.” Then he slips the passport into my hand.

I stare at the blue book with the gold lettering, then flip to the first page. The picture Ricky took of me and all my vital information. An amazingly real replica. So perfect, right down to the hologram and the stamp verifying me as a U.S. citizen, which I was until Hector stole my identity.

This document holds my freedom, my escape. The only way I know to save myself while keeping Blood alive.

Diesel’s words echo in my head: “Blood said, no matter what, he trusts you.” Meaning he trusts me to stay and not run. Trust in him to take care of Hector, but trusting anyone, even Blood, seems impossible. All my adult life has centered around lies and deceit. Never hoping, always skeptical. Everyone I’d ever depended on let me down, either willingly or by default. I’d learned to depend on one person and one person only—me.

I couldn’t leave anything to chance. I may not be able to make it back here after the fight, so I slide the passport into the concealed inside pocket of my fight shorts, along with my money.

“Let’s get you taped up.” Diesel winds the tape over my palm, my knuckles, looping it around my thumb, then securing it.

“He say anything else?”

“Nah, but right now he’d want you concentrating on the fight, not worrying about shit he’s got handled.” Diesel wraps my other hand, and I flex both fists.

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