Chapter 2

The man behind me was Frankie Easton.

He was the second-in-command at the underground fight club, one of the top dogs there.

His ripped, sweat-soaked body reeked of sourness as he pressed up against me, making me feel like poison was seeping right into my skin.

With Andrew gone, I instinctively backed away.

Frankie gave me a quick once-over, snorted, and grinned, "Well, look at that, a cripple, huh? Never figured Andrew was into girls with busted legs."

Frankie slammed his foot into me, knocking me to the floor, and then cruelly dug his boot into my already wrecked left leg.

I curled up, whimpering in pain as blood streamed down my leg.

He looked me over, totally unfazed by the mess I was in, and said it like it was nothing, "Andrew's been throwing punches in the underground for years now. Marrying Ayleen is no walk in the park."

Frankie had been brawling in the underground for years, and every blow he landed was no-nonsense, hitting me so hard that my gut clenched up tight.

I couldn't help but wonder if Andrew had to endure this kind of pain all these years, too.

He was such an idiot.

Frankie produced a remote out of nowhere, and with a click, the curtains on one side slowly parted, giving us a clear view of what was happening in the next room.

At some point, Ayleen was now dressed in something even skimpier, sitting right up close to Andrew.

She was running her hand all over him, teasing and provoking.

But Andrew was clearly not into it. He grabbed Ayleen's wandering hand in a panic, his brow tightly knit, voice urgent. "Ayleen, we can't do this. Nina's out there alone, and I'm worried about her. We'll deal with this another day."

Ayleen's eyes glinted with a dangerous edge. "You sure about that? I can give you anything you want. But you only get one chance."

Andrew froze mid-step, not looking back.

No one could tell what was running through his head.

After a moment, I heard Andrew say, "Ayleen, I promised her. I can't just leave her behind."

What an idiot. My eyes grew misty, and my throat tightened with a bitter ache.

A year ago, when Andrew was grinding through his SAT exam, I suddenly spiked a high fever in the middle of the night.

He slung me onto his back and hauled me to the hospital, and then sat right next to me while I got my IV drip, poring over his exam papers the whole time.

After classes, he'd bolt straight to the underground ring, throwing punches just to scrape together enough cash for our tuition.

During that stretch, he was so dead tired that he could just pass out anywhere, no matter the place.

It felt like I was always holding him back.

Now, he's finally found what made him happy, so I couldn't keep dragging him down.

If Andrew couldn't bring himself to do it, I'd do it for him.

I was going to leave.

I asked Frankie to drop me off at the outskirts of the city.

Propping myself up, I barely managed to stand, my left leg dead to the world.

But honestly, all I wanted was one more taste of those hot dogs from the outskirts.

Today was my birthday, and I had something I wanted to say to him.

I wanted to tell him I'd finally found my birth parents.

But sadly, they'd already passed away.

Cancer took them. And now, I had got it too.

The very first time I met Andrew, I gave him half of the hot dog from that store.

Looking back now, so many years had slipped by since that day.

As I limped along the roadside, leaning on a tree branch for support, Andrew suddenly pulled up in his car and blocked my way.

He jumped out, his face twisted with a dangerous glare, grabbed my hand, and stared at me with bloodshot eyes, yelling, "Nina, what the hell happened to you? Didn't I tell you to stick with Frankie?

"Why did you go running off by yourself? Do you even realize how dangerous this place is? Why do you never listen to me? What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"

He yelled that last part at the top of his lungs.

The force of his shout made my ears ache.

And my stomach clenched with pain.

The moment Andrew showed up, comments blew up.

[Seriously, what's he yelling for? He actually has the nerve to shout at her? I can't with this guy. He was the one who handed her over to Frankie, and now he's pretending to be innocent. Spare me.]

Seeing Andrew's face darken, I forced a smile, trying to soothe him. "Don't be mad, I just suddenly wanted some of those hot dogs from here."

But instead of calming him down, my words only made him blow up even more. His voice boomed in my ear, almost deafening. "Nina, are you crazy? You're not a kid anymore. What's so great about those hot dogs?

"You can eat them any day. Why does it have to be today? Do you even know that today, I..."

He stopped, his tone shifting, exhaustion written all over his face. "Why can't you just make things easier for me, Nina? I'm so tired, do you even know?"

I knew. I knew everything.

I nodded, trying to calm him down, forcing a smile, hoping it'd make him feel better.

But it didn't work.

It probably just looked like a goofy, pathetic smile.

For some reason, my stomach was killing me, and my head was pounding too.

Andrew glared at me, his anger boiling over. He yanked me by the arm and dumped me out of the car. "Since you know, why did you still run off?

"Aren't you such a tough girl? Then walk yourself home. Maybe this time you'll finally learn."

He tossed me out of the car, leaving me coughing in a cloud of exhaust.

I watched as Andrew tore off down the road, leaving me behind.

Andrew was always like this. Every time he got pissed, he'd ditch me, but after a while, he'd always come back.

Holding my aching stomach, I looked around for somewhere to sit and catch my breath, hoping he'd come back like he always did.

Just then, comments went wild in front of my eyes. [Run, idiot.]

[Hurry, it's dangerous.]