Chapter 9: Don't

Cal sent Lou to the Lackawanna Motel with forty dollars and a promise to come back in the morning.

Then he sent Bea home early, with a bag of ice and a look she did not argue with.

At nine he locked the street door.

He turned off every light but the one over the ring.

"Sit," he said.

I sat on the edge of the ring apron.

He stayed on his feet, a few steps away, with his arms folded.

"Start with the night you left."

So I told him.

I told him about the dressing room and the bottle.

I told him about the gray film on the steel sink.

I told him about the open door and my fiancé's warm voice saying round seven, and a body shot, and she won't feel a thing.

I told him about the belt on the bench.

I told him about the camera, and the red light that followed me down the hall.

I told him I had thrown my phone in a dumpster and cut my hair in a bus station with tape scissors.

I did not tell him about Allentown.

I almost did.

I opened my mouth twice, and both times what came out was something else.

When I finished, he did not say anything for a long time.

"Your fiancé," he said finally.

"Yes."

"Vince Sorrell is your fiancé."

"Was."

"And you came into my gym and let me tell you about Allentown."

"I didn't know what to say."

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