Wrath by Victoria Christopher Murray

Author:Victoria Christopher Murray
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books
Published: 2021-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

22 Xavier

Between completing the last deposition and then standing for the first media conference about the civil rights case, this had been the longest day. But at least the depositions were over, I’d patiently answered questions for the press and now the base of the work was done. This case was the final professional check mark I needed to become a partner. I was excited but not as thrilled as I was for what was ahead of me this weekend.

Only two more days to New Orleans, and I had a long to-do list. I’d made the connection with Will Allen, an old college friend who I’d contacted the last time I was going to do this, but he reminded me that not only was I trying to make this happen on a weekend, it was a holiday weekend at that.

The weekend timing wasn’t something I’d considered, and it changed so much. Still, it looked like I’d be able to make this happen, even though it was going to cost me a lot.

My plan had been to leave the office as early as I could tonight, head home, and finalize these plans, but because of the message left on my cell phone last night, I was now sitting on Forty-Seventh Street near Park Avenue, stuck in traffic that made a snail’s pace look like a sprint.

“You know what?” I said to the driver. “I’m gonna get out.”

“We just have another block to go.”

“I’m cool.” I thanked him before I hopped out, secured my bag onto my shoulder, then jogged across the wide avenue, even though the light was against me. Traffic wasn’t moving uptown, downtown, or across town, so pedestrians had free rein.

Across Park Avenue, I swung open one of the heavy doors of Sweat Box, then scanned my membership card at the front desk. It had been more than a couple of weeks since I’d walked the carpeted floors of this gym.

Inside, I trotted down the stairs to the locker room, changed into sweat shorts and a tank, and then headed toward the space where about a dozen boxing rings were set up. Through the glass doors, I scanned the area filled with men (and a couple of women) and spotted him. As I stepped inside, the sound of boxing gloves making contact filled the air. Grunts and shouts and cheers followed. I passed three rings before I made my way to where Bryce stood, gloves on his hands, his arms crossed as he watched the match in the ring above him. His eyes were narrowed as if he was studying every move.

I eased up, stood next to him, mirrored his pose, and watched the battle in the ring for a few moments before I said, “What’s up?”

It still took a couple of beats before my best friend faced me. His expression was solemn, his eyes dark. But then he grinned. And even with his hands hidden by boxing gloves, we embraced in one of those brother-brother greetings, hugging each other tightly, the way fam does.

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