Chapter Twenty-Four

October 18

New York City

M olloy’s gym was only a block from Equinox, the premium place where Caleb Cain worked out, but it may as well have been on another planet. The blood-stained boxing ring with tattered ropes was surrounded by speed bags, training equipment, and a smattering of folding chairs where would-bes and washed-ups traded war stories and advice.

Here, Miles was Jake Cutter, a construction worker who made a little cash on the side as an underground fighter. Jake didn’t talk much, and the guys here respected that. He’d listen to Marty tell his story about being a towel man for Evander Holyfield and cheer on the kid Marty believed had a real shot, but mostly, Miles took out his frustrations. He could hit the heavy bag until his knuckles bled, and no one would look twice.

Ever since his encounter with Clara, Miles felt like a high-tension wire had been strung inside his chest. Every heartbeat seemed to crank it tighter and tighter. Sweat poured from his bare torso, every muscle tense and powerful as he moved. The pain focused him and, more importantly, kept his mind from returning to the woman who plagued his thoughts.

Today, Jake was in the ring, going a few rounds with Pavel, a guy twice his size and half his speed. Jake was pummeling him. Pavel wiped the blood from his eyebrow and spat on the canvas.

“What’s gotten into you today, bruh?”

“Sorry, man. Just working some shit out.” Miles stepped to the corner and grabbed a towel.

“Well, quit working it out on my face. If I come home all pounded, my girl is going to step in the ring with you, and you do not want that.”

Miles chuckled despite his frustration.

“You gotta girl?” Pavel asked.

“No.”

Pavel shook his head. “When I first met Kitty—that’s my girl—she refused to go out with me. I used to come in here and flatten guys on the regular.”

“What’s your point?”

“I think you know, brother.”

“She’s not my gi—” Miles stopped himself too late. Pavel pointed at him in a gotcha gesture.

Climbing between the ropes, Miles hopped down and squirted water from the plastic bottle into his mouth. In his open bag, his cell phone lit with a notification. He snatched it up and tapped on Clara’s dating app. His outburst was uncontrolled. “Goddammit!”

Pavel’s booming laugh echoed in the cavernous space.

Inside Miles’s chest, the wire snapped.