Soul Standard by Richard Thomas

Author:Richard Thomas [Thomas, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: The Soul Standard
ISBN: 9781938103049
Publisher: Dzanc Books
Published: 2016-06-16T22:00:00+00:00

I slump against the meat locker and trace the contour of her face in my palm. The empty seat vibrates in my bones. Sliced wrappings laid beside me, I shudder at the image, her flayed skin draped around a room. Sal leaning over to her. Her screaming and cheering and clapping like a mad monkey.

Something about that look, though. Like she’d known about the conversation the whole time she was back here and refused to bring it up. If she’d known, she certainly wouldn’t have stayed. I caught a glimpse of Sal in the crowd, which doesn’t mean one of his lackeys didn’t nab her, but I can’t remember the last time I saw her. Before the ninth? The seventh? It’s all a blur of adrenaline and dripping blood. She’d have to move quickly. Knowing her, she excused herself to the restroom in the middle of a vicious volley of punches, and snuck out to the alley, on her way to a better, more well-lit stage. She’s gone, but that’s good. That’s what she needed. What I needed.

Using the bench as a lever to pull myself from the floor, I make my way up to Tug’s office. He’s facing the bracket when I walk in. I knock anyway so I won’t surprise him and catch a jumpy-fingered .357.

“Yeah,” he says, waving his hand.

“Came to collect.”

He spins on his heels. “You are one brawling motherfucker. My god, man.”

I shuffle over to his desk and let myself collapse in a chair. My legs throb from the few minutes of walking.

“Jesus, I don’t know if we’ve seen one like that for—since ever, I guess. Shit,” he slurps from a tin, still pacing the brackets, “I get you two in here every other week, we can own half the damn City.”

“I do this twice a month and I’ll be dead next week.” I stretch a cramp from my left shoulder. “I’m thinking about throwing it in after this, just doing one-offs.”

He turns, frowns, and rests his hands on the back of the chair. “You’ll have a title to defend next time.”

“I don’t give a fuck about the title. I get to win and Mona gets her help. This year. That’s all I need.”

“What about your little sweetheart?”

A long exhale, tired of repeating this, but at the same time sad I won’t be doing it any longer. “She’s just a friend, Tug. Just a friend.”

“Don’t know how things happen up your way, but I don’t give a shit how nice my friends’ tits are, I don’t give anybody fifty grand. No. Thank. You.”

My back screams as I sit up. “Who gave her money?”

The chair groans as he plops down. “She said you weren’t going to be moving anytime soon, so she was grabbing it for you.”

“No. She wasn’t grabbing anything for anyone.” I try to jump to my feet but just tip forward.

He crosses his arms over his chest. “How the hell was I supposed to know?”

I grab Tug’s collar with my broken-ass hand, yank him forward, which comes as a little more than a nudge.

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