They Threw Me Away at Twelve, So I Came Home Undefeated novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Ledger

The guard at the side gate was gone, and the chain was only looped, as Perry had said.

I slipped through the kitchen garden at two in the morning and went over the wall.

The black sedan was where he told me it would be.

Dutch had taught me to drive in the warehouse lot when I was fourteen, between the heavy bags and the rain barrels.

I turned the key and pulled out without lights.

Nobody ran after me.

It took twenty-five minutes to reach the old warehouse on the east side.

The bar upstairs was dark.

The street door hung open on a broken hinge.

I went down the back stairs with my fists up.

The cellar was empty.

The cage stood in the middle of the floor with its door torn off.

Folding chairs lay in heaps.

A man's boot print crossed the mat in a long red smear.

Not paint.

"Dutch!"

My voice came back off the concrete.

I ran for the office.

He was on the floor beside the desk with his back against the wall and one hand pressed to his ribs.

His lip was split, and one eye had swollen shut.

"Don't fuss," he said, before I could speak. "Don't you dare fuss."

I dropped to my knees in front of him.

"Who was it?"

"Three of them. Brought their own bats." He tried to grin, and winced. "I told them the fire marshal could wait, because I was in the middle of a nap."

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