In My Final Match, My Girlfriend Beat Me Down in the Ring

Ridgeport's underground fighting ring had one unwritten rule.

Your last match before you walked away was a death match. Whoever lost, left their life behind.

Almost everyone was sure I'd leave safely.

For six months straight, I'd held the top spot on the fighters' list without a slip.

I never thought I'd see Georgia James in that ring.

Every move I knew, she'd taught me.

Fighting her, I would lose. There was no other outcome.

The whistle blew, and blow after blow landed on me, tight and vicious.

Then a clean, sharp crack of breaking rib, and I went down.

The moment the referee called it, I heard Georgia sigh.

"Sorry. It was John's birthday yesterday. His wish was to watch me beat you in the ring."

"He's not well. The doctors say he might not see another birthday."

"This last wish of his, I had to make happen."

Down below, John Swanson sat in his wheelchair, color in his cheeks, a small smile at the corner of his mouth.

I lay on the floor, my chest barely rising, every breath a struggle.

Whether John would live to see next year, I didn't know.

But me, I wouldn't see the sun three days from now.

***

The shouting around me cut off all at once.

The referee laid a hand gently on my shoulder.

"Can you still get up?"

I lay there, feeling like the broken rib had shifted and driven into my lung.

My voice came out barely there.

"Uncle Stan, leave it."

Losing to Georgia, I could accept that.

Every move that had kept me alive this long in a place that chewed people up and spat out nothing had come from her.

Late last night, too wired to sleep, I'd climbed up to the highest roof of the gym.

The whole sky was full of stars.

In my earbuds, her soft, even breathing.

My heart was pounding like a drum, and I chose my words carefully.

"Tomorrow's my last match. Will you come watch?"

I wanted Georgia to see my final win with her own eyes.

A soft laugh came down the line.

"Of course."

She kept her word. She really came.

Swapped out my opponent herself, stood in the ring herself, and lost my life for me herself.

Georgia pulled off her gloves. There were a few marks on her face from the fight too.

She held out one slender hand in front of me.

"Don't be dramatic. Get up. The ring's no place for you to look weak."

"Cough, cough, cough."

The second before my hand reached hers, John's coughing carried clearly through the crowd.

He was hunched over, hand over his mouth, trembling like a leaf in the wind.

Georgia's brow tightened at once. She vaulted the railing and was at his side in a moment, tucking the blanket over his legs.

"The blood's too thick in here. You're too weak for it. I'll get you out."

Her tone was scolding, but listen closer and it was all indulgent helplessness.

"You just had to come see for yourself. If you wanted the result, I'd have told you."

"Everything I promised you, when have I not delivered?"

She held John steady against her, and at the door, she turned back to look at me.

"Stop lying there playing dead. I know how hard to hit."

"I know you're mad I broke your winning streak."

"I'll come get you tomorrow, take you to that place on the South Side."

It was her habit, always, to smooth over whatever came between us with a meal.

I closed my eyes.

But this time was different.

After they left, Stan helped me down off the platform, his voice bitter as he begged me to see a doctor.

My clothes came open. My body was already covered in wounds.

Bruised black and purple, an ugly sight.

Georgia's fists had been especially hard today.

I poured the medicated oil over the cuts, then bound my chest with the wrap.

Only once that was done did I have the strength to speak.

"I've only got a few days left anyway. Don't waste the money."

"What's left, I still have to save it for Grandma's treatment."

I dropped my eyes and forced a smile.

In my head I was already counting what was left on the card, how many rounds of treatment it could still buy Grandma.

My phone lit up. A news alert popped onto the screen.

The photo on the front was Georgia wheeling John out of the ring, her head bowed, her face gentle.

The headline was big enough, eye-catching enough.

Romance Heating UpWedding Bells Soon for the James and Swanson Families?

Whether he meant to or not, John had liked the post, then quickly unliked it.

Stan stood beside me, so worked up his voice cracked.

"These paparazzi run fake stories all day. Miss James's boyfriend is you, plain as day. He"

I reached out and flipped the phone face-down on the table, my voice bitter.

"Matched families, a talented man and a beautiful woman. They do suit each other."

The rest room door burst open while I was still sitting there in a daze.

The man who came in looked frantic, the words tumbling out of him.

"Jacob, it's bad."

"The Swansons are redeveloping Longwood Street. They're seizing every house on the block by force."

"Your grandmother's been thrown out."

I shot to my feet, and the pull of it tore straight through my wound.

I waited a few seconds for the pain to ease, then threw on my jacket and ran.

The sky outside hung low and gray, like it might start snowing any minute.

By the time I got home, the noise inside was chaos.

Grandma Fisher sat slumped on the floor, and the little furniture we owned had been smashed to pieces.

A few men in suits had her hand pinned down, forcing her thumbprint onto a contract.

"Let go of her!"

I grabbed the broom and swung it across their backs, and in the scramble I planted myself in front of Grandma.

The contract had fallen to the floor in the confusion, stamped now with a few black footprints.

I looked down. Where the compensation figure should have been, there was a bold, glaring zero.

The blood roared up into my head. I stared at them.

"This is robbery!"

Next door, Old Man Lambert's door opened, and his shock of white hair poked out.

"Jacob, son, you ought to talk your grandmother into signing that contract."

"Five million. That's enough to treat her illness."

The word rang hollow in my skull. My voice came out dry.

"What five million?"

Old Man Lambert looked puzzled.

"The compensation. The whole street's on the same rate."

I turned my head toward the men.

"Why?"

The one in charge let out a short scoff.

"If you want someone to blame, blame yourself for crossing the wrong person. A little pain's the only way you learn."

"My advice is, sign the contract and be good about it. Otherwise, a sickly little ghost like your grandmother, how many days of us going at her do you think she'll hold up?"

My heart sank.

The wrong person. The Swansons.

"This was John Swanson's idea?"

The men said nothing, which was answer enough.

I thought back to the night Georgia James confessed to me, when John Swanson, healthy his whole life, was suddenly struck down by a rare illness and rushed into intensive care.

The whole Swanson family had come apart.

When the call came, Georgia was fastening the James family's heirloom pendant around my neck.

"John's in trouble."

She left those words behind and walked out without looking back.

By the time we met again the next day, that pendant was hanging around John Swanson's neck.

Georgia stood in front of him, as if I were some raging beast.

"John's very fond of it. I'm letting him wear it for a while first."

When I didn't react, her face darkened.

"Since when did you get so petty, nickel-and-diming a sick man."

John Swanson took my hand, his other hand resting on the pendant at his chest.

"I don't have many days left anyway, Jacob. Don't hold it against me."

He said it feebly, but his sharp nails dug hard into my flesh, leaving trails of red.

That was the day I finally understood how John Swanson felt about Georgia James.

He hated me. Hated that I'd come along later and taken what he wanted.

But it never crossed my mind that his hatred went far enough to want me dead.

Once the men were gone, I turned and helped Grandma up.

As we went inside, fireworks bloomed in the distance, one after another.

Brilliant. Dazzling.

I looked up and realized that at some point the snow had started to fall.

Late last fall, Georgia had held my hand and made me a promise.

"When the first snow comes, I'll give you a grand fireworks show."

"I'll let all of Ridgeport witness how happy we are."

Now the snow had come.

But the fireworks and the woman no longer belonged to me.

The fright brought on a high fever that same night.

There was nothing I could do. My hands shaking, I called Georgia.

The line rang and rang before it finally connected.

"Georgia, Grandma, she"

I hadn't even finished before her tired voice cut me off.

"Let me guess. Grandma's sick again, and you want me to come running."

"Jacob, that trick's getting old."

The rest of my words stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out.

Georgia kept going.

"John's almost done with his shower. Lately he can't fall asleep without a bedtime story from me."

"Have a little heart for a dying man. Don't pick now to throw a jealous fit."

I bowed my head, and one scalding tear after another dropped onto the back of my hand.

I remembered my first time at the ring, how badly I got beaten.

When they dragged me off the platform afterward, my face was swollen out of shape.

I was huddled in a corner when a white handkerchief appeared in front of me.

Georgia stood before me with the light behind her, her voice unbelievably gentle.

"Wipe your face."

After that, she dressed my wounds, went with me to see Grandma, taught me how to use my own build to land the cleanest, most perfect hits with the least effort.

The first time I won, she wrapped her arms around my waist in front of everyone, her warm breath falling against my chest.

"From now on, you can lean on me."

I actually believed her.

Thinking about it now, what a fool I was.

Grandma lay on the bed, her breath coming hotter and hotter.

I wiped my eyes, went outside, dragged the cart out from beside the house, and laid a mat over it.

Then, gritting my teeth, I went back into the room and got Grandma onto my back.

The wound on my chest hurt worse and worse. I held it in without a sound, inched my way step by step to the cart, and laid her down flat.

The snow on the road was thick.

I sank and stumbled with every step.

By the time I stood at the hospital doors, I couldn't feel my body at all.

The doctors inside came rushing out.

Then the familiar light over the operating room came on.

I leaned against the wall, eyes fixed on the doors, not blinking.

The snow on my shoulders had long since melted into water, soaking through clothes that were already thin.

Thank god the doctor's words gave me something to hold on to.

"The patient's condition is stable for now, but the follow-up treatment has to keep up."

Something anxious turned over in me.

"How long will the follow-up treatment cost run?"

"Around a hundred thousand."

I let out a breath.

These past two years I'd barely stopped, one fight after another.

What I'd saved was just about enough to cover what came next.

When I walked into the ward, Grandma was already awake.

"Jacob, I've made trouble for you again."

I shook my head, the tears falling without stopping.

I took out my bank card and tucked it under Grandma's pillow.

"Grandma, when you go in for treatment, pay with this card."

"When I'm not here, you have to take good care of yourself."

The next day, picking up her medicine, I ran into John Swanson.

"Jacob. What a coincidence."

"I only had a bit of a headache last night, but Georgia insisted I come in today for a checkup."

I twitched a corner of my mouth, not wanting to get into it with him.

But when I came through the door, I saw the person who was supposed to be lying in bed sprawled on the floor.

"Grandma!"

Grandma's hands were shaking, and all at once she slapped herself across the face.

I caught both her hands, and my stomach dropped.

"What happened?"

Two lines of murky tears ran down, and her lips trembled.

"A few men just barged into the ward and took the card away."

"It's Grandma's fault, useless Grandma couldn't keep it safe!"

She beat at her own legs, her face full of remorse.

I opened my mouth, but no sound would come out, and the darkness came over my eyes in waves.

Grandma gripped my arm, the hatred in her eyes almost spilling over.

"Those men were the same ones who came to take our house yesterday!"

I thought of running into John Swanson downstairs just now, of that unreadable smile on his face.

It was him.

I turned and rushed out.

From a distance I saw the figure in the wheelchair.

"John Swanson!"

Eyes red, I ran up to him and stretched out my hand.

"Give me back the money!"

He tilted his head, all innocence.

"Jacob, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Stop pretending!"

I grabbed the arm of his wheelchair and begged.

"Whatever you've got against me, take it out on me. I'll give up Georgia James too. Just give me back the money."

"I'm begging you. All I want is the money."

He stared at me for a moment, and then his eyes slowly reddened, his body starting to shake.

"Jacob, you're scaring me."

The next second I was shoved aside by some force.

Georgia James yanked my arm, fury churning in her eyes.

"You really never learn, dragging your scene right up in front of John."

"Looks like I went too easy on you yesterday."

I let out a few laughs, a dull ache tearing at my chest, and the look in my eyes when I turned to her was dead.

"I only wanted him to give me back my money."

Georgia knit her brows at that.

"You lost your money?"

"If the money's gone, you earn it back. What are you doing making a scene in front of John?"

I flung her arm off and screamed, breaking apart.

"There's no time! I don't have time to earn it!"

Georgia's temper flared too, and she slapped me across the face.

"What do you mean, no time!"

"I spoiled you too long, and now the laziness in your bones is showing!"

"You're nothing but a lump of mud that'll never hold to a wall."

Once, she'd called me wild grass. Tough. One of a kind. She'd said she was drawn to me, deeply.

Now she called me mud.

My throat worked, swallowing down the sweet, bloody taste filling my mouth.

She turned John's wheelchair and started to leave.

"Jacob, I am so disappointed in you."

My body went rigid, but I didn't miss the flash of triumph in John's eyes.

Inside his drooping sleeve, the familiar face of the card flashed by.

I lunged at him, only to be kicked away by Georgia.

Then two bodyguards pinned me hard to the ground.

"Jacob, that's enough!"

The wound in my chest seemed to be getting worse, and black spots began to swim across my vision.

A commotion suddenly broke out somewhere in the distance.

A nurse ran past, her face grim.

"Someone jumped from the inpatient ward. No vital signs, confirmed."

"Just admitted last night. Word is it's because their money got stolen."

The voices around me blurred and drifted away, until all that was left in my ears was my own heavy breathing.

In the end, I couldn't hold it back, and coughed up a mouthful of bloody sweetness.

As my consciousness faded, I felt someone lifting me up.

They were talking.

"Take him back."

"Boss said his life belongs to the ring now."

Little by little, my consciousness sank completely into the dark.

The hospital parking lot.

Georgia James lifted John Swanson from the wheelchair and helped him settle steadily into the back seat.

As she straightened up, someone came hurrying over and said a few words close to her ear.

The next second, the color drained from Georgia's face.